It's like we've been falling forever, since everything started. We fell from the artificial world we created into an utopia-bubbled civilization. We fell from that into the deep forests and months of pain. Now it's just time we realize what we are. We are the fallen, the crowd that keeps surviving. We are the fallen, the ones who've hit the ground and can't go any deeper. We are the ones who have only rising left to do. We are the Olympia of hell.
Lori was raised on a cattle farm in Coffee City, Texas. Despite the name of the town, it was mainly known for its distribution of alcohol: beer, wine and other spirits. That’s how Lori knew it best—her mother was a barmaid and an alcoholic. Her father was a man who made a mistake—an Archery teacher on tour through high schools in Texas, who’d stepped into a bar one day and never walked out. Their one-night-stand created Lori and years of unhappiness. Lori’s father grew up in a farm in Tennessee, and there were opportunities in Coffee City for such. His Archery gig couldn’t support a wife and a baby, so with the help of his retired father, the Taylors moved into an old farm on the edge of town and built their way up.
She was close with her father: he taught her everything he knew about archery, even gave her a bow by the time she hit puberty. They spent their Sundays tending to the farm and shooting arrows through the wild rabbits that tried to eat their crops. And on Sunday nights, they’d go to the bar Mrs. Taylor worked at and eat pub food.
Her relationship with her mother was… strained, to say the least. Some nights she came home from the bar reeking of vodka, swaying on her feet, before she got violent. When Lori was younger, it was harder to fight back. She’d scream and cry and try and hide from the malice in her mother’s eyes and the weight of her hits. A teacher noticed after weeks of Lori showing up to school with shadows under her eyes and bruises covering her arms and pulled her aside.
He urged her to take a self-defense class in the next town over. He assumed it was the work of her high school boyfriend, and told her that it was a dangerous world they lived in: she needed to know how to protect herself. God, how right he was.
The summer after high school, her father died. Lori was still deciding what to do with her life and had no plans for college. Her mother’s “encouragements” didn’t help in the matter, either. The grief over the loss of her father left her in a rut, a depressive state. She frequented the bar in town and even started working with her mother for a little bit before things got bad… really bad at home. One night, she decided to fight back. Slapped her mother, broke a beer bottle and held it up to her throat. She ran away that night, took refuge with a friend from high school, who worked as a hairdresser in the local salon in town. When her friend offered her a job in the salon to make some extra cash, she took it. It started off with sweeping the floors, making coffees for clients and manning the cash register and phones, but, ultimately, she started cutting hair and styling. It wasn’t something she particularly enjoyed doing – but she didn’t have a college education, or a clue as to what she wanted to do with her life. Her mother was a deadbeat, abusive, and her father was dead and gone. She didn’t really have anybody. Things couldn’t get worse, right?
THE DISCOVERY
Lori was in the salon when news of the infection broke out. There were rumors about it, about other towns around Texas being infected: but they all just thought it was propaganda. False. Lori nearly cut her client’s hair off straight from her scalp. It was insane after that—Coffee City was a small town, with a population of a little less than 200, and the streets were crazy. People running and screaming. Without even thinking, Lori ran – scissors still in her hand – to her childhood home, the Taylor farm.
Her mother was slowly stalking through the kitchen when she arrived. Her eyes weren’t… human. She’d been infected. Lori screamed. She’d never been so scared in her entire life – her mother, her abuser, had never been scarier. When her mother lunged at her, Lori cried so loud, didn’t even think as her arm swung out and pierced the scissors into her mother’s eye.
With adrenaline pumping through her veins, Lori ran back to the town square. They were loading people into buses and taking them to Austin in hopes of finding refuge. Lori, bloodied and panting, jumped on the bus. Oddly, she felt a sense of relief. Being free of her mother. She mulled this over until she arrived in Austin – an image of havoc and destruction.
A group of survivors opted to try to go to the coast, see what their chances were like there. Lori was trembling, still streaked with her own mother’s blood, when a man, Grayson, asked her to join them. She tagged along, guilt over killing her mother swirling around, until, after a few weeks, Grayson broke off from the group. After that, her only other friend, Sloan, slowly departed, too. The group made the decision to leave Lori, the weakest link, in the forest in the middle of the night. She survived for a few days by herself before she was found by a couple of members of Fall City, and was allowed safe haven into the town.
Her time in Fall City was equally as hectic. When Xavier Maverick stormed the town, a group of clickers circled Lori. She was bitten on the shoulder (above her left shoulder blade). She crawled into an alleyway with her best friend, Andy, and waited to die from the virus. When the fever broke, and she started to heal, her immunity to the infection was realized.
A fight with Corvo had her assigned room to be burnt to a crisp. His lover, Gwen, subsequently attacked her in the community centre. Bruised and broken, Lori found herself on the doorstep of the shed, where she asked the mechanic there for shelter. It didn’t take long for Lori to fall in love with him. For a little over two months they shared a bed, and so much more, before Owen was ripped from her clutches. As the bombs fell upon the city, they were separated. The time apart had Lori finding friendship in the most unlikely of places. She was nursing a broken arm at the hands of Corvo -- yet again -- and a new clicker bite to accommodate the other teeth marks that covered her shoulder blade.
A month in his sweater, holding out hope, found Lori and Owen reuniting at the hospital. The happiness was short-lived, as a few days later her best friend, Charlotte, was infected and shot straight through the skull. A time after that, and the hospital was being stormed by hordes of infected, where Lori witnessed the death of many of her friends and family. Now, it’s a struggle between surviving amongst the limited amount of friends she has left, and having the will to want such a life in the first place.
Skills: Weaponry, Combat, Communications + Diplomacy, First Aid
Jake Casey grew up in Milanville, Pennsylvania with two loving parents and an annoying older sister. His childhood was average.
The start of adolescence saw the reveal of Casey’s anger issues. He used to fight a lot in school, always came home with a black eye or bruised ribs. His mom put him into boxing classes at the local gym in an attempt to smother out his anger. His father started taking him out on his hog hunting trips, where he encouraged him to fire away at his anger. Both were successful, and both became useful at a later date, when combat and weaponry became essential skills needed to survive.
Casey moved to Reading, Massachusetts to attend Salem State University, where he got a teaching degree. It was at college that he met Rachel, a one-night-stand turned into a lifelong commitment. Her parents pressured them to marry once they were told of Rachel’s pregnancy, but Casey wasn’t too bothered by it. It didn’t take very long for him to fall in love with her.
He was only nineteen years old when their son, Noah, was born. Despite her parent’s pleas, Rachel dropped out of college before her third trimester, and spent the remaining years looking after Noah at home and working part-time at a grocery store.
After his degree, Casey started teaching at the local elementary school. He mainly taught second graders. When Noah came of age, he attended the same elementary school, and Casey got to teach his son.
Getting married so young and after such a short little time, they found it easy to argue. A few months before the outbreak of the infection, they were close to reaching a breaking point. Despite it all, the fighting and hushed arguments in the middle of the night, Casey loved Rachel. And he loved Noah. He loved his family more than anything.
THE DISCOVERY
Casey was setting up for the next day’s activities in his classroom when the infection hit town. Rachel was working late, so Noah was stuck in after-school-care. Casey was sitting at his desk when one of his favorite students entered the classroom, feet shuffling against the linoleum, half the flesh from her face torn. She attacked Casey—and it was the adrenaline that drove him to fight her back. A seven-year-old girl, moaning and teeth clicking. Casey had to kill her, slammed her head into a desk and watched as the brain matter spilled onto the floor. Shaken, stricken with fear for his son out in the yard, Casey left the building in search for Noah.
It was absolute hell out in the school yard. Little kids chasing teachers. Blood and moans. Screaming. Casey caught sight of his son across the quad, ran towards him, ducking around clickers and flying bullets. He was only a few meters away when he noticed Noah’s face half-sunken, clothes torn and bloody, eyes a scary hue. It was before he could reach him that another teacher struck out with a baseball bat against his son, and he was falling to the ground. His brains, his life, splattered out onto the pavement. Casey couldn’t see, blinded by rage and adrenaline, as he snatched the baseball bat from the teacher’s hand and pummelled him into the same fate as his infected -- and now dead -- son.
He carried his body, limp and lifeless, back to the house. His wife, Rachel, was huddled in a corner, his rifle clutched to her chest. Her sobs echoed through the house. She struck his cheek, over and over, and he allowed it, the guilt eating at his insides.
Soon after that she was gone. Fled with a bunch of non-infected people in town, leaving Casey to fend for himself. For the first few days, he sat there, rocking back and forth with his mangled son in his arms. Once he started hearing noises, clickers creeping up to his house, his survival instinct finally kicked into gear. He packed up the remaining supplies within the house, grabbed some ammo from the shed and headed off out into the unknown.
He spent months travelling with a variety of people; women, men, children. People from all walks of life. The one constant he had was a group of people he found on the border of Seattle. They spent a lot of time together, over two months, were starting to build up a small camp deep within the forest. Everybody looked to Casey for leadership and advice. His past experiences since Massachusetts allowed his growth. He didn’t like killing people, but he knew it was a necessity. It was the end of the world, after all. He still had full faith in humanity and hope, surrounded by this group of people, until it abruptly ended.
An enemy clan, run by Xavier Maverick, he later discovered, came through and tore them down. Some were slaughtered, others fled. Casey was left alone, left running. For a few weeks he survived on his own, eating squirrel and anything else he could find. He was basically left without supplies or companionship.
It was early morning when he saw the smoke in the air, sounds of gunfire. Fire crackling in the distance. He followed it; found a gated community. He hadn’t experienced such a thing since before the outbreak. Desperate, wondering how much longer he could survive by himself, he called out and was greeted by the citizens of Fall City.
The safe haven he found in Fall City was short-lived. A week he indulged in cooked meals and hot showers; made a few connections with people before the bombs levelled the town and surrounding area. He broke off with a small group of survivors. They found refuge in a warehouse, where Casey was figured as the leader of the clan. A midnight stroll with Lexie Rivera had them stumbling upon a hospital deep past the forest -- the newest place in which they found sanctuary.
Just from looking around the carpool line or speaking with other girls at school, Gwen always knew that her mother differed from the others. She spoke to herself in incoherent ramblings more often than not and over a period of many years, she became quick to attack her two daughters with ridiculous, and often absurd, accusations.
Due to this, Gwen lived in fear of the Baudouin matriarch for quite some time. At least until her senior year of high school came around and her mother abruptly committed suicide in their family’s basement, unable to live with her demons any longer. It was only after the tragedy that her father came out of the secretive shadows and finally admitted the illness which plagued his late wife for so long: schizophrenia, a debilitating mental illness that can stay dormant until a significant environmental event triggers it.
Enraged by the lack of transparency from her folks and terrified at the thought of being the next Baudouin to fall under the disease’s clutches, Gwen cut ties with her family and made her own way in the world for the next five years alone. Graduating college with high marks, holding down a secure job, and a couple long term relationships; it was as though she wanted to prove to herself that her own mind was too high functioning to ever become as warped as her mother’s.
Three years ago, she received news from her sister that their father had fallen ill with an aggressive form of lung cancer and finally decided to make the uncomfortable trek back home. During that time, she quit her job to become a full time caretaker to the man she once claimed to hate, doing everything in her power to make his fight as easy as possible until he eventually lost the battle two months before the outbreak.
THE DISCOVERY
Gwen was cleaning out her father’s house when the national alert came, and she noticed several people in the neighborhood packing up their cars to flee to safety. It made her decision to scrounge up as many necessities as possible a relatively easy one, though where she would run to became another story altogether. Her relationship with the youngest Baudouin girl was shaky at best and all of her friends lived in the city, a dangerous place to be when an infection was spreading.
Choosing the only other safe haven she knew and falling back on her independent, lone wolf nature, Gwen packed a bag with a first aid kit and some camping supplies before heading off into the woods. For the first few weeks, it was pretty smooth sailing… And then she began to notice some strange things new behavioral quirks. Even when the woods were completely silent, she would have to check over her shoulder, behind trees, everywhere in fear that an infected could be hiding. Some of the spots she searched were simply impossible, but the compulsion still lingered.
The fear slowly began to dissolve into a paranoia that, quite frankly, startled Gwen on a level she was not prepared to handle. Her biggest fear was getting sick like her mother and here she was, starting to show symptoms. The only way she knew to solve her growing problem would be to lose that fear entirely, to lose her human sense of good or bad and only focus on survival. She believed that the more primal she became, the more she relied upon her senses and instincts, the less she could worry about her own mind.
Being alone in that state of mind for so long, however, is not always a healthy for a person and Gwen’s solitary travels made her extremely feral. Unwittingly discovered by a pair of runners outside of Fall City, the duo decided to bring the very unwilling refugee back to Fall City so that she might be able to reinsert herself into the dwindling remains of society. Despite her original insistence to remain mute and unaffiliated with the masses, she mistakenly allowed her guard to slip on a rooftop one afternoon, thus reigniting her original humanity and forcing out her long buried personality.
Just as she silently predicted, their fortress crumbled within the span of a half-year, albeit not from an internal struggle or famine as she foresaw. The government, in all of its poor attempts at eradicating the infection, destroyed their solace over the course of a night and forced her small band of misfits into the wilderness, a decrepit church, and finally an abandoned hospital where the majority of Fall City’s survivors were slain by monsters. Now carrying the child of the very man who first encouraged her to speak, she warily balances the concept of no longer being an effective predator in her own survival and what sort of future she could possibly hope to offer her child in a world so bleak.
Skills: Mechanics, engineering, resilience, blacksmithing and DIY.
With a Mexican father and a Polish mother, Lexie was born and raised within a working class structure; barely unable to suppress the increasing costs of bills. It appeared that the weight of the situation took hold of her father firstly, thus occurred his departure during her early years of childhood. Despite the loss of a prominent figure, Lexie comes with very little recollection and few memories having stored themselves in aged photographs. It was no surprise that trust issues would eventually form and remain to be the constant hesitation popping up whenever intimacy appeared possible.
Through the requirement to put food on the table, her mother worked endless shifts as a waitress; resulting in a rickety relationship between the pair. Although there were only rare moments to solidify their bond, the respect was still a constant and Lexie thoroughly appreciated the grueling efforts of her single parental figure. With the acknowledgement that two employed figures were better than one, education became a second priority and, at the age of seventeen, Lexie was offered the role of a receptionist through a close family friend.
Despite disagreements manifesting from Lexie’s decisions, the utmost importance was their financial stability. After hoarding weekly paychecks, Lexie enrolled with the chance of obtaining her GED and to determine her interest in University. The very thing which fueled this particular decision was her interest in law enforcement; how the police force came with the exact adrenaline rush she hungered for.
Perhaps an additional aspect to the craving of her future career was the expected boredom formed between the confinements of her office. As a way to curb her ennui, Lexie spent her spare time expanding her knowledge through tinkering with the occasional vehicle. One of her most favourite accomplishments was an old Ford Mustang gifted to her by someone she perceived as a parental figure; the coating of rust and the groaning of gears once having deemed it useless.
Eventually, a year or so prior to the outbreak, Lexie’s mother became terminally ill. The change in dynamic forced further education to, once more, take a back seat. To ensure the health of her mother never deteriorated, she worked continuously hard; pulling in a variation of shift work within her mother’s role and barely seeing the world beyond the windows of her office. However, as time passed and luck slipped between the curves of her fingers, it became increasingly clear there would be no signs of improvement; resulting in Lexie being the only person she had left within this world.
THE DISCOVERY
The decided direction of travel was left in the hands of a close companion; a female friend who had worked alongside Lexie and had been the first of the pair to discover the mutated. Through the only logic which could be scavenged from panic, the companion suggested they traveled north to where their family resided in hopes safety would await them. Although the chances were believed to be slim, no concerns were raised until various messages were transmitted from one radio station to the next.
With the crumbling of civilsation and the limitation of supplies, Lexie’s friend was far more nurturing to those they passed along the way. If any help could be offered, she would be the first to suggest an act of kindness. Evidently, it soon became known of how the world would never be generous in return. At a single stop off, where a hitchhiker was desperate for help, Lexie’s friend was murdered in an attempt to loot them for all they were worth. The female had no choice other than to retaliate and to continue alone.
As hoarded supplies grew shorter, lack of fuel only resulted in her current transportation groaning to a halt; forcing her to take her journey by foot and to grow exhausted by the weight of starvation. It appeared that such a circumstance had also claimed others victim, directing a majority towards acts of villainy as if no alternate choice existed. With that, the few opted to lure desperate prey into their traps with the intention of rape and murder. Having forced herself to adapt to the chaos, survival instincts were the only thing which kept her alive; the outcome merely dependent on a Bowie knife and the slaughtering of those who had attempted to cause harm. Although the nightmares remain a constant, she refuses to provoke the demons in which buried themselves underneath the surface.
When Fall City offered the idea of safety, Lexie retreated into her shell and opted to depend on past hobbies to keep her afloat. Although significant injuries had remained from her arrival, testing her engineering skills enabled her to feel as if she came with a purpose. Nonetheless, as if she had expected it all along, few good things remained in a world tarred by government errors. The sanctuary crumbled after several months and forced all to choose the latter within the notion of fight or flight. In the attempt to flee, the female ended up in a struggle between the infected; resulting in her conscious state to cease and the arms of a friend to carry her away from destruction.
In the grueling attempt to overcome what lurked in the outside world, the brunette (alongside those with questionable luck) pursued from one location to the next; a warehouse and a hospital remaining to be further proof of the inability of permanence. As of now, with the numbers dwindling and optimism running dry, it appears to be questionable if security can ever be found again.
*As the event was unfinished, feel free to post starters using the festarter tag detailing how your character escaped the hospital, if they witnessed any character deaths, or how they reunited with their loved ones. While the trek through the woods is a long one, all survivors that managed to stumble out of the hospital make it to a new SAFE HAVEN. Please refer to the settings page on the main page for more info.
One door. One barely closed barrier between the boiler room and the rest of the hospital’s ground floor. It became their complete undoing.
Drawn in by the rumbling of generators and various voices lingering within the hospital’s walls, they filtered in through shattered glass to press against the metal frame with ominous clicking and screeching escaping their fungal covered features. Too many of them to count, a swarm perhaps, lining up along the entryway like a river before a dam.
The dam gives. The water rushes in. You can’t breathe.
One door. One informally closed obstacle. Not quite locked in, not quite secured at the hinges. It became their complete undoing.
Ivy H.
It feels like home. Her stomach is full. Her hair is being braided. Gwen makes her smile. She's slowly becoming a teen once again, not the young warrior, mother, over-protective friend she has had to be for the latest months. It's a moment, a treasure. She's just there, with her favorite person in the hospital. Sometimes, her cheeks go red. She remembers screaming mom. None of them have said a word about it, though. " You know what?" Ivy confesses. " I've been thinking about the baby. Not Lili. Your baby. We never really got to talk about it."
Corvo
The vibrations given from the boiler room came with a constant humming throughout the atmosphere; it was a continuous repetition one became accustomed to within the confinements of the hospital. Only, as the male rounded a nearby corner, humming "mmm watcha say", the irony of the situation came to light: clicking protruded from the furthest room set out before him, followed by the rushing of footsteps and the sight of at least a dozen infected. With no weapons latched to his frame and the inability to hold back the door with only two arms, Corvo darted into a nearby room and awaited the onslaught to occur.
Gwen
Fingers intertwined within darker locks, lacing them through one another to create a condensed braid that she could never fathom for her own untamed mane. "What?" She whispered, gaze trained on the task at hand. "No, we didn't talk about it. You're right... Please tell me you're not about to ask how it was made."
Terra
Terra was working - when was she not - as by her side Knight became restless. He got to his feet, let out a breath, reacted as he was taught to a certain danger. "What's wrong, buddy?" Terra asked and looked under the table for him. "No need to be worried." Or was there? The clicking was quiet. At first she thought it was something else, but when Knight became agitated, the sounds down the hallway made sense. "Shit."
Lori
She could feel his skin, warm, through his shirt. The way his chest wouldn't rise or fall evenly. Her face was buried into the crook of his neck-- to keep herself from crying again. He would've noticed. He would've noticed. They'd been lying there, restless, Lori with eyelashes brushes against his skin, for hours. Any attempt at sleeping was lost the moment Charlotte was killed. This closeness was the only semblance of comfort she'd felt in the passing days. She didn't find herself lashing out, not around him. Instead, she insisted on being quiet. Close. There was noise down the hallway, vibrating through the walls. It made Lori pull herself up, hand resting on his chest. She tilted her head at him, eyelashes wet, running her other hand over his head. Still weird, she thought, with it being shaved. "Owen--" She almost began, before the door was flung open, and a clicker infiltrated the room.
Logan
He'd been reclining on a couch in the lobby, sun illuminating his body much the way a cat rested in the beams for warmth, when a distant scuffling was heard. Logan was on the brink of sleep, lingering on the precipice before finally being thrown into the direction of consciousness as several figures came rushing past, throats grated against a clicking sound he knew far too well. Adrenaline coursed through his veins at the sight yet kept him paralyzed on the sofa. They hadn't seen him in his silent state, hadn't been drawn to his movement. They were heading for the wings, heading for the others. Heading for Isaac.
Hannah
A figure stood at the edge of the treeline, observing the building ahead of her. She'd been sent ahead of the rest of the group to scout it out. It was a test, she was pretty sure, to see how far she'd come since first meeting the others. It was a test to see if she could benefit them, to see if she was actually worth keeping around. If she found them their next shelter then she'd be allowed to stay, if not her throat would be slit and she'd be left for dead. She'd be left to the crows to pick her apart until she was little more than bones on the floor. That wouldn't happen though - she wouldn't fail and she'd do them proud. Tilting her head slightly she barely heard the telltale signs that clickers were concealed behind the walls and she reached over her shoulder to retrieve the bow there. If she was going to be heading inside then she'd be prepared for the worst.
Ivy H.
The girl giggled and placed a timid hand against her face, as if she hided part of her long far lost innocence. " No! Definitely not that --" Feeling Gwen's words at her back was relaxing. The dog, who had been sleeping on the floor, moved his ears. Ivy welcomed him to the reunion with a little clap against her leg, as if she invited him. " I meant, well, you know ... It's going to take time but deliver is hard. Logan did good for Ada but if it gets complicated we might want to stay here for a long time, you know what I mean? " Part of Ivy had already wondered what it would mean for Gwen to die giving birth. And she wasn't sacrificing her family for Corvo's sperm.
Isaac
Isaac was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, the past two hours spent in the physiotherapy centre of the Hospital working the muscle in his shoulder furiously. The thick, black scab had just began to fall away to leave a tightly knotted pearlescent pink scar that was a thick ridge protruding from his previously unmarred shoulder. In that moment he had nothing on his mind but the showers back at Fall City and the sense memory of water sluicing down his back, nothing else, he eased himself up onto the counter on the far side of his room and let his head thunk back against the wall. For what he lacked in vision his other senses rushed to compensate for and so the pounding of too many feet, snarling, baying and clicking though far away were as distinct as a lightening strike. For a moment he could swear to himself that he was hallucinating, lost in old thoughts and projecting the sound into the silence. A second later he was scrambling forward and throwing his pack over his shoulders. One thought. Logan.
Casey
He should've known. No 'thank you's would be handed out over this one. He could hear the sounds, the clicking, the fungal feet shuffling against the ground, through the tiling of the shower block. He emerged through a cloud of steam, a towel stretched against his hips. He pulled his briefs up his ankles, grabbed the .308 that rested against the sink. His footsteps were loud, echoing off the walls, as he made his way to the hallway. Tight-lipped -- he didn't want to breathe too loud, draw attention. A crack through the door and he saw them: a horde of clickers hobbling down the corridor, snarling and clenching their teeth, as they made way for the main floor of the hospital. Casey didn't shoot-- didn't even move. No more 'thank you's. No more safe haven. Lexie. He blinked. Lexie.
Ada
The haunting sounds made her look up. It seemed straight out of a horror movie. The setting, the echoes of clicking down the dark hallway. It almost seemed faint, but still - it made Ada stop right in her tracks. Her heart beating violently against her chest as panic settled. There was something down there, slowly making its way up and Ada had no intentions of witnessing what it was. Steps were taken back to the room she’d exited from, where Lily silently slept. Trembling hands took the creature in her arms and the backpack she had secured below the crib. So much for safety, it seemed. It was almost tempting to give up, stay there - die. Would it ever stop? A deep breath was taken before she quickly exited the room and searched frantically for someone - anyone.
Gwen
Gwen hesitated as the girl continued, knowing that such worries had been a plague upon her own mind, but she never desired them to consume Ivy as well. How could they not, though? The girl had seen so much death and loss, it was only natural to predict the most devastating outcome in every situation. "Yeah, don't judge me if I'm not exactly relying on Logan to keep me from bleeding out." Her fingers cupped Ivy's chin, turning the younger one's expression towards her own. "We can't stay here forever, kid. I'm okay with that... We--" The blonde's gaze lingered on how the dog had grown rigid, an instinctive chill running up her own spine as she froze in place and keen hearing picked out distant clicking. So faint she nearly believed herself to be hallucinating it. "Don't make a sound." Voice whispered in the shell of her child's ear, she silently maneuvered them against the far wall beside the entryway.
Terra
It was surprising how quickly the peace was destroyed and people emerged from their rooms, awoken by the noise, the clicking. Terra got up, looked around the cafeteria where she was, whispered a sharp "We need to get out of here," to everyone that was around to hear. Knight barked. Not good. The first clickers started pouring into the cafeteria and there was only one way out: through the kitchen, down the back hallway. People were already running for the exits - one caught Terra's attention. "Ada!" Damn! "Ada!" Terra caught up to her, put her hands on the girl's shoulders, checked in with her once, before turning her on the spot and leading her further down the hallway. "We have to get out," she whispered.
Owen
He wasn't sleeping, anyway. He’d been awake, anyway. There was a difference, now (too much time sleeping alone?) (hospital beds weren’t made to share), and naps couldn’t fix a broken sleep schedule, and the curtains were still see-through, and since Charlie, Lori’s breathing hitched in the quiet. So he’d been awake, anyway. That didn’t mean his reflexes were knee-hammer quick; he had to open his eyes, first, tucking his chin at his name and then sitting up at the door, at the — at the sound. Said “fuck” out loud, then bit down on his teeth. No noise allowed.
Savannah
She was silent. When was she loud? Then, wandering as she's always been used to, after sneaking out last night around the forests, Savannah tried to recover from the long night, sitting in the hallways. It felt uneasy for a few minutes so she decided to walk it out. And in her muteness, the sound of hell's legions reached her ears. They're not that far. Panic feeds her beating heart for a brief seconds. It's not like she hasn't seen them or fight them -- for God's sake, she's been bitten before. Savannah covered her breath with her red scarf and searched for a room to escape the hallways that will most likely be feeding the monsters in a few minutes. Silence was the key to survival with these beasts.
Corvo
The mere acknowledgement of his untimely demise was enough to force logic to spring forth and for sarcasm to take a backseat. With dark eyes, raven-black and insistent on scavenging out something for his own protection, his line of sight fell upon an old wooden table. It was no sharpened object, nor gun stocked with plentiful shells, but even the leg of it would be enough to do at least some damage (clickers reacted on sound, thus limited sight would work in his favour). As if his flesh was simply translucent, the concept of shifting from one area to the next remained to be his primary goal. Darting forwards, light footsteps grazing the linoleum with a sylph-like nature, he propped the opposing table to the side and used a single foot to kick at a fragile leg; snapping it off between his grasp and returning to his previous spot. "And here I was, starting to think the place was getting a little boring."
Ivy H.
Boiling blood, not pumping. Gwen's gaze directed towards the dog, the rigid presence of the animal; then the haunting sounds. A war started to breathe its way out Ivy's brain as Gwen spoke. Keep yourself controlled, Ivy. The kid tried to close her eyes, as a reaction to everything that seemed to come back, as the waves. Stay close to Gwen. But, a silent disease reaches her. What if she just goes crazy this time and it's not against the forgiving Isaac? Ivy has to hold back the tears. She's done. She has even kept her gun so close it's not even weird to find the material against her hand.
Ada
Ada was on the brink of crying, desperate to leave; find shelter. The lump in her throat seemed to get more uncomfortable by the second. It was almost a blessing that the child in her arms was resting peacefully, making no sounds in the slightest. The faint clicking was all she heard for a while until a dog barked. That bark - it was familiar. And it was when she spotted Terra that she felt a bit of relief, a tiny particle of relief. The girl didn’t hesitate once to follow Terra’s orders, her feet walking as fast as they could. It seemed it was all they did, run - relocate - run.
Isaac
Isaac felt the hairs on his arms raise in their approach, a reaction so instinctual that it nearly took his breath away. This was what it was like to be prey, to be hunted. This time however, this time he could not let himself leave Logan behind, he could not grab the tether of fight or flight and sprint away into the weak early May sunshine like he had when the fires had spread. A high, desperate noise almost punched out of him at the clicks rebounding and echoing down the hallways but he quelled it, anxiously tossing the weight of his ice axe in his palm as he stole out of the room in a low sprint, careful to not let the soles of his boots squeak against the cheap, slightly tacky floor. As he glanced back over his shoulder while rounding a corner the thick, black veins of infection came into view rooted at the runner's eyes as it threw itself toward him despite it's arm bent at a sickening angle and the lower half of it's jaw flowering. Only a month or so from the spores erupting fully through it's skull.
Lori
She could hear the way they both stopped breathing. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. She didn't have the shotgun. She didn't have a clue as to how to proceed. Wanted to curse, too, but the clicker was stalking around the room. Any sort of noise, and-- it was there, then, that she shifted, leaned into get closer to him, and the cot squeaked. "Shit," she growled. A reflex. Let out one last shaky exhale before she grabbed him, and pulled him off the bed. Squeezed her eyes shut, as they sat huddled on the ground. "We--" she tried to whisper, but it came out as a wheeze. More attention drawn. Furniture was moving, teeth were snapping. "Go," she motioned to him, before pecking a kiss to his lips and standing up from the shadows. "I love you," she mouthed, before sweeping her pocket knife off the side table and preparing herself for bite mark number 3, or-- something even worse. Something even better, maybe: death.
Logan
They had learned months ago that the blast of ammunition and the screams for other survivors only antagonized the clickers, only made them draw closer and become more determined to claw at the living. So his lean figure moved like a shadow, skirting around the edges of the hallway as he inched ever closer to where the final remnants of humanity existed. Trailing behind the swarm of infected much as he had followed the masses of Fall City in the bombing. Isaac. Isaac. Isaac. He would not prove futile in locating his partner this go round. Not again. But a dog barked, sending the horde abuzz like a mass of bees. They were hunting now and everyone was in the crossfire.
Lexie
The very sound of grazing footsteps, as if they simply walked with an extended gate, was enough to signify the difference between the living and the deceased. It came with no surprise that their sanctuary had crumbled just as those prior, yet there would be no preparing for the turmoil which knocked rasp knuckles against the towering guard of her own existence. Several thoughts laced her mind momentarily, amplifying how her own survival was never the utmost importance in a world where you depended on the majority, but to see the light of day would only mean emotions would have to remain buried. As she slipped from her hideout, squeezing between the narrow gap of an entrance, she cowered behind a shelving unit located in the midst of the hallway; scavenging it for a usable object.
Terra
Terra did not know where she was taking Ada, where she was taking whoever chose to follow them. Knight walked in front of him, so in a way he was leading the way. Terra let him. There was no time to do everything - check in with the people, fight the infected, find an exit and bring the people out. What would they find outside anyway? A few dozen infected, waiting, clicking? They were safe nowhere. Terra did not even have a weapon but the knife at her waist. It would have to do. At least the baby was sleeping. At least Knight stopped barking. At least they were following broken exit-signs to somewhere. Then Terra stopped them. "Wait." Clickers came from that way too. "Go back," she ordered, "As far as you can, turn right."
Hannah
The sounds inside seemed to be getting louder, clicks and screeches now accompanied by what sounded like frantic footfalls and screams of apparent survivors trapped inside with the monsters that had claimed the earth as their own. It wouldn't stop her though. She'd get inside and scout out the building without getting involved. This wasn't her fight, the other survivors would die and her group would clean up their mess. She'd be in and out without being spotted so that she could make her report back to the others. With her compound bow in hand, she crouched to the floor and grabbed the closest rock she could find as she crept towards the exterior wall of the building. She wasn't about to go through the front door and draw attention to herself. With that in mind she moved to the closest window, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she wouldn't be caught in the act. With the knowledge that she was alone she hurled the rock through the window, listening to the crash of glass with a grim smile on her face.
Isaac
The squawks, high and reedy and hollow sounding were punctuated by the snapping of teeth, screeching, savage clucks. Their sense of smell and sound and what little vision they had left feasting on him already in their limited brain capacity. He heard a harsh shout from behind him and then a scream that curdled his blood, wet sounds as the infected sensed others behind the closed doors. He began to open his mouth and raise as an alarm to all of the others in each of the rooms he passed but his throat seemed to swell and close around the words that would save them. Then a roar thundered through the corridors that could only mean one thing. He himself had only witnessed it the once, the hulking great mass of a thing. He skidded around another corner, panting now as he tried to navigate the maze, just as thick yellow spores collided forcefully with the floor and wall behind him. The next breath he took was cloying and his lungs screamed at him as he snatched at his pack and rammed the gas mask down over his head.
Savannah
Piper. Savannah stopped herself at the thought of the blonde. Dexter. The face of someone who had been able to keep molesting her and making her feel uneasy yet ... He knew the truth. He had to know about all of the stories. Corvo and that one night. Lori and her irritating voice. Gwen and the way she walked around. Lexie. The thought of the one woman who had been able to make her want to speak up. "Fuck" Savannah mumbled. She let the window open, forgetting about the escape and turned around, heading towards the canteen in hopes she'd meet some of them back there. In hopes she'd meet the ones she had learnt to care about there. Even that annoying Casey that had tried to teach her how to read once again.
Casey
Too many. He made sure to dry off his feet, to keep them from squeaking against the tiles, before he trailed slowly behind. The screams were endless. People were dying. As if this was nothing but a normality now. The schoolyard, in the depths of the forest when Xavier's camp attacked. The way the embers licked up every part of Fall City -- a place he'd never even had the chance to call 'home'. He wasn't stupid enough to use the rifle, strapped over his bare chest. But he was, it seemed, stupid enough to search for her-- could've gone out, easily, but she needed to be accounted for. She needed to be okay. That was his job, right? He swallowed, all quiet, before pressing his back against the wall as the horde of clickers rounded a corner.
Gwen
"Stay," she mouthed to the girl at her side, animalistic instincts kicking into full gear as she crouched to cross the room and retrieve her blade lying on the windowsill. Infected littered the hallway outside, ominous clicks indicating that there was no semblance of humanity left within their decaying frames. Focusing green irises on their movements as she walked backwards in the direction of her salvation lying in the May sunlight, she made calculated steps until her lower half was forced to pause at the cutout in the wall. Turning her figure back to the glass, slender palm curling around the handle of a machete, she idly took note of the stark contrast of late spring's promise outside and the clutch of death within the hospital interior. Gwen crept back then, rejoining Ivy beside the doorway whilst keeping herself closest to the opening in case they were joined by an unwelcome guest.
Corvo
As the sentence departed from his lips, he was merely silenced moments later by the sound of an even gait; as if the clickers were no longer his greatest problem. It was familiarity which caught his focus first; how the very rugged exterior had been a constant sight accompanying his once-roommate; the common occurrence of departing from his own bedroom and coming face to face with the man rifling throughout the kitchen and confessing his sins to a now deceased scientist. Corvo's lips compressed together at the sight, never willing to protect those who remained to be as pointless as the walls of Fall City had been. "Didn't think I'd offered out an invitation, mate," he professed, only to hear it followed by several profanities. Apparently, as a single thought crossed his mind, only one survivor would evacuate the room successfully; the other bait.
Owen
One wasn’t so bad. They could handle just one. And where there was one, there was always more — but that was separate, that was next. The first step, then the rest. Owen wasn’t an idiot, okay? She grabbed the knife first, but he knew what quick kisses meant when you had to mouth all your words, ‘cause he’d swallowed most of his goodbyes. That’s not what this was going to be. He could feel his heart without touching his pulse-points, just slamming around in his chest; he tried to shake his head at her, but she wasn’t looking, so he reached for the closest thing he could pick up and swing. They kept shoddy chairs in the hospital. The weight of it strained against his shoulder, ’til he used his other arm, too — and knocked the bottom edge against the clicker’s head, one hard hit to get the thing on the ground.
Ada
Clicking sounds everywhere. Ada wondered if this was it. Was this how she would die? Swarmed by a hoard of clickers, ripped away from her newborn and from any hint of happiness at all? Steps were taken back, feet turned right. An empty hallway was ahead, no signs of clicking sounds, no signs of the rotting monsters. A hint of daylight could be seen as they rushed in the hallway but as much as she was concerned this could be the very end. No rights, no left to go to. Terrified, Ada looked over at Terra - her fear clear in her bright hues.
Ivy H.
She wanted to complain and say something so ridiculous as 'no, you stay' but she held her impulses. The sounds were falling heavy against her ears, as if it rained mud. Ivy felt dirty again and nothing remained from the luminous moment she had had a few seconds before everything broke again. The touch of the dog against her palm woke Ivy up again, who had been keeping her eyes locked on Gwen's track. The kid tried to stand her ground and stay strong against the upcoming event. It helped that the bloater's sound was louder than her thoughts. Where the fuck was Ada? The dog made its way out and Ivy had to stop herself from screaming to stop him. Ripley left.
Logan
People were shrieking now, blood had begun to pool in the hallways around fallen bodies as various faces --only vaguely familiar anyway-- remained expressionless in death. As he continued to lean against the corridor walls, he simply prayed that the next to catch his gaze would not be adorned with freckles. He'd been so clever until this point, so careful in his movements as he tiptoed ever closer to the room containing his only tether to what little semblance of happiness still existed for him in this godforsaken world. And then large feet knocked it: a piece of piping left over in the debris from when they had cleared out the wing weeks prior. Click. Screech. Shuffle. Light eyes glanced upwards just in time to see it charging in his direction.
Isaac
Isaac dashed for the commons, where he knew most people would be at this time of day. He kicked himself for not asking what Logan would be doing, for not sparing a thought to this inevitability, to their second separation in far too short of a time span. He slipped so thoroughly his fingers dragged across the floor as he struggled to regain his footing, pitching so far that his joints burned with it. Quick hazel eyes darted about as a connecting hallway saw runners clawing their way toward him from that direction too, he tripped backwards lightly, bouncing on the balls of his feet in his confusion before hammering his feet against the floor once again. He was nearly there, so nearly there as the infected tailed him out of the way of the designated living quarters.
It seemed as though the infected had by chance managed to split off and trap the survivors in as the poured from every corridor, chasing and eventually dragging others down with their teeth. The sickening sound of cracking bone and ripping flesh as they screamed and screamed until the wet sounds swallowed it and they went silent. He almost missed him. Almost missed the clicker bearing down on him but he somehow put on a final burst of speed that shocked the strained muscles in his legs. Logan. A feral snarl ripped itself from his mouth as he forced every ounce of his momentum into the down swing of his ice axe, cleaving into the soft, decaying flesh between hard plates of fungus that ringed the infected's neck.
Lexie
Rifling hands plucked at the blunt end of a catlin, allowing her palm to tighten around the weapon as if it were the only thing keeping the tether of survival in a stable condition. Nonetheless, with the outside appearing only a feeble goal compared to that of Savannah and Casey, the female shielded herself behind a deserted hospital bed and, with the quietest intentions, pushed it down the stretch of hallway as screams shattered the silence she attempted to secure. Lured by the particular noise, a single clicker limped forward from a nearby room, vocal chords rattling from a rage desperate to tear fresh from flesh. With no other option than to perforate the skull of the infected, the female slipped from her cover and launched at the screeching figure; penetrating the mottled flesh repeatedly.
Hannah
As the glass settled on the floor the girl with rusted, blood-matted hair threw her bow into the room beyond and pulled herself through the hole in the wall, not caring for the small cuts that littered her palms from the small shards of glass that littered the sill. Regaining her bearings once inside the teenager crouched down to retrieve her bow, her eyes narrowing as the sounds of clickers and the hopeless cries of survivors permeated her ears now the small barrier blocking her from the inside had been shattered. Prepared for the inevitable fight ahead, Hannah made her way to the only door in the room and barely cracked it open. A single eye peered through the gap before she hastily slammed the door shut again. She'd seen people - people she recognised from her time in the city. The pregnant girl was being led through the hallways by another woman that she vaguely recognised. Evidently this in-and-out mission wasn't going to be as simple as she'd first anticipated it to be.
Lori
He was quick. He'd always had big arms. She used to pretend like she didn't notice them, or the way they felt against her skin and bed sheets. She noticed. "Holy shit," she had the knife perched in the air, before letting it fall back to her side. Brain matter tickled at her toes. "Owen," she said his name, just to hear it out loud, and moved to wrap her fingers around his bicep. "We need to--" Lori tilted her head toward the crack in the door. "This isn't happenin' again. I'm not--" I'm not leaving you. She could hear it, the screams that echoed against the hospital walls. The teeth clicking down, the sound of feet shuffling against the linoleum. They needed to get out.
Terra
There was a door at the end of the hallway. They had to get to it before the infected did, and they were fast. "Hurry!" The words meant nothing. Terra only said them to calm herself, maybe calm Ada, keep the baby sleeping. At least this was a quiet evacuation. The people knew what screaming would get them. Terra did not think to check the door before ushering Ada, the baby and the dog inside. Only when the door was closed behind them did she realize that they were not alone. The face was familiar, but there was only enough time to decide the girl was not dangerous before the sound of clickers out in the hallway startled them. Terra put a finger to her lips, then pointed at he shattered window. "If you thought you'd be safe in here, you're too late. Is this a way out?"
Savannah
Sounds of clickers. Bloaters. They were coming. All of these people, they had given each other's names. They had shared memories. As Savannah jumped a few clicker bodies on her way to the canteen, shivers came running down her spine. A brunette killed a clicker in the distance. But going that way wouldn't be that easy.
Ada
It seemed they were almost out, but it didn’t mean they were exactly safe. Ada came to a halt the moment she witnessed a shadow move before her. Was it a clicker? Face turned pale the moment eyes tried to make what it was until she actually saw her. Her. That red hair, distinct features and eyes. It was Hannah. Hannah - her old friend Hannah. What was she doing here? While she could have been happy to see her, she wasn’t exactly. More surprised than not. Had she had taken refugee in the hospital, was she there to help them?
Gwen
Screams echoed down the hallways, reverberating throughout every room and reminding the survivors that nothing was ever permanent. No safe haven ever truly impenetrable. Including this room as the clicking grew louder despite the chaos out of sight, a figure eventually sliding into the room with a mutilated face and fungus coating its once discernible features. Her breathing stopped for the length of a heartbeat and then she lunged, like a predator in her own regard, blade cutting through stiffened flesh to separate the head from its shoulders. "We need to move," she whispered to Ivy as he frame turned back, palm reaching down to assist the child off the tile. "We can't stay here, we're sitting ducks."
Ivy H.
How come anything as what Sloan believed in had created such an ugliness? The monsters were only creations of humanity, weren't they? The blonde scientific, now long lost in this madness too, had once told her that she had been about to find a cure. Did she really find it? Would it really matter? The head hit the ground and Ivy nodded before stopping her. " I'll go first. "
Isaac
Isaac felt the vocal chords of the clicker give out underneath his weapon and it fell with a too-human sounding thunk, crumpling and leaving Logan standing before him. Alive, not obviously bleeding. Fucking perfect.
Owen
He brought one of the chair legs down on the thing’s head, just for good measure, and the sound was thick and hard to listen to, and blood speckled the bottoms of his jeans. Owen rubbed his fingers into the pain in his shoulder. She was looking at him now. He was suddenly conscious of his breathing. “Yeah.” He knew. They needed to. He knew. “It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine.” Was he losing credibility, every time he said that? Keep the adrenaline, keep your hurried heart, hold onto it while the sounds get louder outside. Through the door, ajar, he counted three more clickers pass. “There’s more. And there are — people I have to find, and you, probably… If I don’t come back in ten, we’ll hook up outside, okay? By the woods, if it’s clear.”
Hannah
For a few sweet moments she thought she'd be alone, thought she'd get the chance to avoid those that she'd rather see rotting in the ground after what they'd done to her. For a few moments she thought they'd either be caught by the clickers or go a different route. How wrong she was. It was barely after she'd closed the door that it opened again and the two women - accompanied by the baby that she'd so wanted to dissect once upon a time and a dog - stormed into the room, seemingly unaware of the fact that she was there. Without even thinking the teenager took aim at the two intruders before they could react, uncaring that one of them was a girl who she'd been forced to call a friend. Hannah snorted in amusement when the older woman spoke up. She didn't think she'd be safe, she knew that the moment she set foot in the room, but she was on a mission and she'd be damned if she was about to fail it. "I knew what was happening in here when I came in. I didn't expect to be safe in here," she said, the words spat out as her eyes narrowed into a glare at the two women. "If you're going really going to be that pathetic and run whilst your apparently friends are dying in there then be my guest." The redhead inclined her head towards the smashed window in invitation for the two to leave. "I won't be following after you."
Logan
His fingers had only just brushed against the pipe at his feet when another figure brought the infected to its knees, and finally, to the linoleum beneath their feet. He stood then, newly salvaged weapon in hand to spot his saviour. Freckles. Hazel eyes. Mussed hair. "Isaac," he hissed, palm cupping the shorter male's jawline for the briefest of moments before the telltale noise started up once more. As grateful as he was for their reunion amidst the chaos, he would not linger with affection so that they might both meet their demise like the others. "We need to go. Now."
Savannah
In her way towards the girl, Savannah had a few problems and started feeling as if she was out of breath. Being locked up in such a small place that also made her few memories bite her neck, it got her down to her knees. Leaning against a wall, she heard some chatting and wondered how that people had made it alive so far. You can't talk when there are things trying to eat you alive. Before one of them could reach the blonde's locks, Savannah shoot. Lori. " Have you seen Piper? " Sav's voice was clear.
Terra
"Then why the hell?" Terra usually stayed out of business that wasn't her own. She didn't know why that girl - Anna, Hannah? - was no longer around. People died all the time, maybe. This was confusing. Why would anyone waltz into the hospital when they knew it was full of infected. When the bow was aimed at them, Terra took a step in front of Ada and the child. "If you think you can kill a hoard of infected with that thing, good luck. Let us be out of the way first." No one in this room stood a chance against the infected that began crawling and moaning against the door. "There are other ways into the hospital if you want to play hero. You aren't saving anyone here."
Isaac
Isaac couldn't help the relieved smile on his face, the heft to the metal pipe now in Logan's hand made his heart stop beating quite so fast. The brief touch was warm against his jaw and it solidified the hard pitted thing in his stomach, the thing that needed to protect this with every fibre of his being. He nodded shortly as a horse cry of his name was heard from across the way, the sandy brown of Axel's hair was visible as he twisted out of an infected's grip. The half caught gasp in his throat saw him reach for his glock. Twelve rounds, he only had twelve rounds. Too slow, his aborted step forward was cut short as his running partner was dragged out of view between two singing doors, leaving a trail of something dark in his wake and howling grief in Isaac's chest. "Let's go." He choked out, wanting desperately to loop his fingers around Logan's wrist for something to ground him, to tie him down so that his mind didn't spiral away from him as it had started doing since this madness had started.
Lori
She was squeezing her eyes closed, tightening her grip around his arm. "People you have to find?" He was in her line of sight, and he was all she could see. Every time. She was shaking her head. "This isn't-- No--" this wasn't a good idea. Fungal bodies were knocking into the walls, shaking everything around her. Maybe that was just Owen, as he was slipping through her grasp, and heading toward the door. "Babe--" She was reaching for him, with fingers outstretched. He was already going. He was already going. And Lori had people, too-- had to go find Terra. Jamie, see if Gwen was okay-- had to do something. The shotgun, in the basement. She was pushing hair out of her face, and calling out to him one last time. "You better come back to me, Owen Gaffney," she tried to hold the emotion from her voice: the first since that night, when he held her, when she was covered in Charlotte. "Ten minutes. Ten minutes." She repeated through a breath, said it again before he was out the door. "Love you.” Before he was running down one end of the hall, and she was running down another.
Ada
The bow was directed at them. Them. Ada was in complete shock, wondering why they were the targets. The clickers were so close, yet they were there - doing nothing about it. She felt the child get restless in her arms, the peace and quiet wouldn’t last for so long. Her pinky was placed on the child’s lips, entertaining her for the time being. What had she been thinking? This wasn’t the life she wanted for her or herself or anyone. Frightened eyes could just glance over at the redhead, while a hand gripped Terra’s side. “We - we have to go..” she whispered, the sounds only getting worse.
Gwen
She nodded in tense agreement, not particularly enjoying the idea of placing her adoptive child on the front lines, but also perfectly aware that she would rather have a clear vision of Ivy than constantly be checking her six to ensure that they were still together. Their frames lingered close together, despite the rush of their nearly silent footsteps and the littering of bodies along the linoleum around them. Each one had crystalline hues flickering over their faces, vague titles coming to mind and not a single one containing dark irises. He wasn't here. A swell of something unfamiliar came bubbling up in her lungs. Hope, perhaps?
Lori
She only had pocket knife. A breath. She'd done this before, plenty of times. Lasted a whole month without her bow and arrow. She only had to make it down to the basement, get the shotgun, and she'd be good. Had Owen on her mind; a distraction, before she was kicking a clicker away from her torso. A bite was fine, she had to remind herself. Torn flesh was fine. Death was-- she couldn't do it, couldn't pierce through the fungus. The blade was dull, overused. "Fuck," she cursed, kicking and knocking the clicker on its knees. Its teeth were close. But she couldn't let this happen again. No. Not another bite-- it was either all or nothing. No bite, or death. She grunted, the footsteps advancing. More were coming. Ripped the blade up through its neck, and then plunged through, with some form of strength, into its brain. And then a shot. She turned her head. Savannah.
"Piper?" Shit. Lori was ripping the blade from its skull, giving her a nod of gratitude. "We need to get down to the basement. Now." She was shaking her head, feet moving. Hadn't even thought of Piper-- her own flesh and blood. "Go find her if you want, I need to-- I need to go. I need to go find it." Had to be out in ten minutes to find Owen.
Terra
Terra felt the hand on her. Ada's hand. The first time they touched since - no, this was not the time to remember. "Hannah," - Terra was sure her name was Hannah - "No one is running to leave their friends to die." She moved away one step to reveal Ada and her child. "But we just might if we don't get out of here soon."
Ivy H.
Ivy kept her gaze aimed up. If she stepped on something, she didn't even cared to check if it was friends or foes. She held her gun close to her body, lowered in hopes she didn't have to use it. She tried to remember Corvo's classes deep down the forest, the wolf teaching the scarred lamb how to slaughter. Walking right in front of Gwen, Ivy didn't see the clicker who run her from the left and hit the ground.
Savannah
Savannah rolled her eyes. This one in front of her would leave Piper on her own. To be honest, maybe it was pointless looking for her. She couldn't be this lucky. " I'll follow and have your back. " The raven haired woman corrected Lori's way. " Not that way", she grabbed her. " I've walked that path, they're following."
Hannah
Hannah didn't entertain the older woman with a response, not seeing any point in it as the woman would either be dead or gone sooner rather than later. She didn't need to know that the teen was there as a scout for a group who was preparing to take over. She didn't need to know that the redhead would do anything to ensure that the hospital became theirs even if it meant killing those in the room with her. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance upon seeing the older woman move to protect Ada. Didn't she realise it was pointless? That there was no use in protecting others instead of yourself? It'd get her killed in the end. "Who said this is the only weapon I have on me?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow at the older women as the bow remained fixed on the duo. "But I'm not here to play hero for you people. I'd rather watch the lot of you rot than save you after what you forced me through." The redheads narrowed gaze turned to Ada when she heard the timid words come from her lips.
It was a miracle that the feeble excuse of a woman had survived the childbirth. She could barely hold herself upright as it was. Her eyes returned to the older brunette in front of her and narrowed further at the words that came spilling from the elder woman's lips. Before she had a chance to speak up, however, the telltale clicks and screeches were heard behind her. Without missing a beat the bruised and bloody redhead turned towards the window and let loose the arrow into the face of the clicker there. Without hesitating she let the bow clatter across the floor and unsheathed the knife from her waist before she threw herself at the unwanted intruder, repeatedly stabbing into the monstrosity until it slumped down to the floor to rot. Turning back to the two in the room she spoke up again. "If you want to leave then go now before more turn up."
Logan
Their fingers intertwined as he took Isaac's suggestion to heart and bolted, keeping his other half close lest they become separated in the madness yet again. "It doesn't matter what happens now," he hissed once they darted into the cafeteria, buying time before the infected caught on. "You and I get out no matter the cost. Do you understand me? We live. No matter what, we live."
Casey
It was now or never. He stepped out into the hall, cocked his gun and aimed. His palms were sweaty, fingers shaking. It was questionable how he made so many shots, before he found himself running into the opposite direction. Legs protesting as he skidded around corner after corner, till he reached the main floor. Bodies stretched against the linoleum, spattered by brain matter and a harsh scarlet. His eyes flickered across the room, searching. Shooting at anything that moved. There she was, across the way: Lexie. He almost shouted at her, tried to shoot at anything that breached her vicinity. Blinked for a moment, before he saw it manifest: Noah, on the ground, crying. Lexie, kicking away a clicker, smashing her weapon down against its head. Noah. Noah, his head hanging from his shoulders. "Lex," he was breathing, fingers shaky against the trigger.
Owen
He nodded through it. He wasn’t asking permission, after all — and he knew he wouldn’t get it, not even a blessing — but he needed her to know this wasn’t like last time. There was a plan, here. Ten minutes. That’s all. “Promise.” With the door open, he could see the scope of everything: the hall like an onslaught, people yelling in stage-whispers. “Go find your people. I love you, too.” His crowbar was by the entranceway, leaned against the wall. He bent to pick it up and left.
Lori
"I've got a shotgun in the basement. Fully loaded." Lori was pulling herself away from Savannah's grasp, and legging it down the stairwell. Clickers were waiting down in the basement. A glance over her shoulder to see Owen disappearing around a corner. She shook herself out of it. Had to get him off her mind to get through this next step. Had to make it down to the basement. She had to. Promise. Another shaky exhale, fingers gripped around the pocket knife and sledging through fungus and flesh. I love you, too. Ten minutes. That was all. Ten minutes. She pushed the basement door open with her side. "Watch out. Spores." Lori warned over her shoulder to the raven-haired girl following at her heels. More footsteps. Lori grabbed the gun, coughed through the infection that hung in the air. Blew some hair out of her face, and raced back out the door, only to be greeted by more figures. Not clickers, this time. Jamie. And down the hall, she saw -- knew his profile, now, from the days of scoping him out. Watching. Giano.
Isaac
Isaac darted around falling bodies and wildly flailing infected, the toe of his boot skidding through a pool of blood and part of someone's lower intestine, scarlet footprints left in his wake as he managed to stay upright with Logan's help. The cafeteria was relatively empty and the whisper of Logan's voice in his ear bolstered him. Once again Isaac's throat caught around what he had been about to say, no air supplying the deep need to tell him. Agreeing instead with a short, passionate, "We live." Three whole words and eight letters too late. He loved him.
Savannah
Sav carried her riffle and kept quiet about her secret. She didn't care about the stupid spores. Whatever it happened or was happening, the girl had an only side: hers. Though protecting Lori would be a second option.
Terra
Terra was not going to let this chance pass by for Ada's sake. She did not need to play hero either. She needed the others to survive, that was all! "Come on," she whispered and tugged Ada towards the window. "Get out." She was not going first in case Hannah changed her mind, sent an arrow through Ada as well. It would mean the death of both her and her child. By the window, Terra turned to Hannah. "Come with us." Her tone was pleading, caring. No matter what Hannah had or had not done, Terra did not want anyone to die. "There are too many out there. Open that door and you die." It was not a threat. Terra wanted to convince Hannah to come with them, to save herself. "Please."
Lori
"Jame, get the fuck out of 'ere!" Lori pushed at his chest, the concern evident in her irises. "I can't have you down here, I can't--" Ten minutes. What was it now? Eight? Seven? The spores were clouding up her lungs, thoughts of Owen making it hard to breathe. The type of adrenaline that reached her head and made things dizzy. Cocked the gun and aimed. Shot at a clicker making his way down the corridor. Eyes widened at the sight of it, then, Corvo: emerging from the shadows. Giano, with a smirk stretched across his face. Lori, didn't even turn when it happened. Heard the sound of it, of the flesh tearing behind her. Only stopped in her tracks, with the shotgun heavy in her arms, when Jamie's body slumped against the ground. And she was screaming, and her vision was blurring, and Jamie's face was completely red. Inside out. Mottled. Not a split down the middle, with black oozing like Charlie, but-- completely torn apart.
Owen
It was really just Kate. He made the list in his head, as he walked: all the people he had to get to safe passage, all the people he owed that too. There were a lot of folks who didn’t deserve to go out like this — there was a baby, wasn’t there? — but he didn’t know where everyone was, and then there was Kate’s door just a hall and a corner away, and back in Fall City, it’d been her hand on his wrist. This wasn’t really a sacrifice, if he kept that in mind. Holding his breath so he made less noise, walking on the front of his feet — someone screamed, behind him, and Owen’s knuckles went white around the crowbar. Empty room after empty room after empty room.
Logan
"I will not lose you again," he voiced firmly, determination lacing his tone as bright irises glanced outwards from their shelter. It was temporary. Everything was temporary. "When Scarlett left, I didn't think shit would be like this again." Logan's gaze remained on the hallway as he spoke, recalling how the last time he had been in this situation with another individual entirely. "Everyone out there could wind up in pieces, but so long as I know you're still breathing... It's you and me. You're my priority."
Savannah
Savannah didn't even get to see the body falling to the ground. She knew who she was fighting. People, again. Wherever Dexter was, she had no hopes of finding him again. Faceless, without identity once again. One shot then it was over for two corpses, the fallen and the biter. However, she grabbed Lori. "Move."
Corvo
Perhaps the distaste was always destined to occur in the other male; the loss of his lover only amplifying such a circumstance. Like a rippling effect, emotions were felt and withdrawn at whoever appeared most accountable. For Corvo, he remained the verbal (and soon to be physical) punchbag. As the other male eyed his escape route, his own limp was the first thing to feel pain; a kick to his knee and the scruff of his neck an easy way to drag him out into the very hallway and leave him for certain death. Nonetheless, as several clickers rounded the corner with the thudding sound of fighting bodies to lure them forward, Corvo took the table leg with both hands and used it to crack the side of Rico’s skull; blood clouding the vision of his victim as he fell over his own footsteps. With the attempt to retreat backwards and to what little safety remained, dark eyes caught sight of two figures: Lori and the brother of the awaiting deceased.
Ada
What she felt towards her former friend must have been fear, anger, hatred - as words reached her ears. Ada felt herself go tense, pale as she heard more rustling only to reveal yet another dog. Ripley. Perhaps somehow he’d gotten her scent and had come to aid. He was the distraction she needed at the moment, to stop herself from crying any further. She couldn’t even fathom to look at Hannah in the eyes. She rushed both dogs outside before going on herself, shattered glass grazing her skin lightly as she tried to protect the child in her arms from any harms. A last glance was taken of Terra before she exited the building. Not one soul walked by the outside of the building, it was just her, the silence and the dogs.
Isaac
Isaac hiked in a breath at that, his lungs swelling painfully at the forcefulness of Logan's tone. Scarlett. The one who had willingly left him behind, not for anyone's benefit but her own. Isaac willed himself to believe he could still divorce himself from his feelings, the terrible fucking realisation a moment earlier scaring him more than the people he knew being torn to shreds. He knew he couldn't, he would not be able to turn on his heal and leave Logan, not even for his companion's benefit. He was too selfish. Consumed. "You're mine. You gotta know that." He breathed, a sick sort of happiness to his voice that could only evolve now in this brief moment of respite. The startlingly calm bubble that always enveloped him when he was pressed to Logan's side. The next sentence was as close to a declaration as he was going to get as his nerves prickled warningly against his skin as though in caution, to not release his most closely guarded secret.
Surpassed now by another, more important than the last. Clutched deep in his chest cavity, behind the cage of his ribs and in the soft flesh around his heart. He raised his trembling hand and touched the pads of his fingers to the soft skin beneath his right eye. "Look out for me on this side, yeah? I can't... I can't see too well right here."
Gwen
Time seemed to slow as the clicker rushed at Ivy, pinning the child against the floor with snapping jaws and inhuman squawks as bared teeth inched ever closer to the child's throat. And then Gwen was on the once human creature, ripping it from her daughter's flesh and slamming it against the linoleum, motherly protection overtaking her lithe frame as she repeatedly gauged its head with her blade. Unnecessary force? Perhaps. Blackness oozed out onto the tile and she continued the assault until its resembled something closer to a smashed pumpkin than a clicker, her machete coated in the remnants of her rage as she lifted her body from its own and brought Ivy to her feet. "Come on."
Lexie
As brain matter covered her flesh, a familiar voice lured her attention upwards; safety laced around a figure which alleviated the concern weighted upon narrow shoulders. With a single hand, she heaved herself from the cold flooring and darted upwards, pulling at his arms to check either side of his figure and confirm there were no injuries displayed. The last thing she would need in this moment was the knowledge that he would be one of her greatest losses. "You're okay," she exhaled heavily. "It's okay."
Lori
She was dropping the shotgun, almost keeling over onto the floor beside his body. Clickers were still advancing. Savannah was still lingering. Jamie was still dead. There was a noise: a grunt, something that didn't sound infected. It was Giano, running down the other end of the hall. Through squinted eyes, she saw it: Rico, limp at Corvo's feet. The man holding the leg of a table, bloodied and splintered at the end. Her breath caught in her throat, winded her, as she scrambled to her feet and ran toward them; leaving the body of her childhood best friend behind. Six minutes. Five minutes, maybe. Shotgun somehow back in her grasp, and dragging against the floor. "Hey!" She called out to get Giano's attention as a scuffle occurred. Gunshots were ringing in her ear; Savannah, she assumed, covering her from behind. She raised the shotgun, gave Corvo a silent nod. They'd planned this. This was-- this was inevitable. Giano was going to suffer an end worse than any of them had ever seen.
Ivy H.
First confusion, then concussion. Her head hit the floor with rage, followed by the anger of its jaws, trying to tear her apart. Her arms tried to hold the thing out of its way to murder her by blocking them by their neck, something that wasn't that effective regarding the small amount of strenght that was left after the panic and the surprise. Her body was motorized by the lonely strenght Edward Cullen said he possesed when he stopped the car that was about to crush Bella. And that was the most stupid thing to remember right there, facing a probable death. Then it's blood. She's all covered on blood. Her feet touched the ground again, scoulded by Gwen's gaze. Not a moment to cry, not a moment to reassure. Just a nod. She's shaking. " I'm sorry. " Gwen will not be proud. She's not useful anymore. She hold her gun with more strenght. " I'll lead the way again better. " The dog is gone. Ada is gone. And the clickers are still here.
Savannah
Savannah chose to cover them, yeah. But this wasn't a good plan and she wasn't going to go down with it. She still hadn't found Piper. And she still hadn't seen Lexie and there was a big probability that they were flesh and bone being pulled apart right now but ---- but she didn't want to believe it.
Corvo
Although surprise veiled his features momentarily, the determination of the other blonde had only forced a smirk to tug at his lips. There was no ounce of him to disagree, thus with splintered object still in tow, he swung at the lower legs of the other male until the very wood cracked within his own grasp. If there was even the smallest chance of the man fleeing from this particular vicinity, he would have to bet on the chance of a miracle. "When we get out of this, we should really consider playin' a game of baseball," he called out to his surprising encounter, retreating from the wounded. "Apparently the two of us have terrific aim."
Casey
He didn't know how he made across the clearing. Clickers and survivors tangled together. Blood smeared against the floor. His shotgun raised, but not firing. He coudn't stop blinking. At a point, had to look down to step over the bodies. Foot clenched down on fungus, and spread brain matter against his ankles. She was pulling herself up from the floor, but Noah was ghosted behind her, head an unusual angle, sprawled against the ground. Her slender fingertips clenching his forearms shook the vision away. He didn't say a word. Grabbed her under her arms, and started to drag her away from the main wing. Hands were shaking around her.
Logan
"And you're mine," he echoed, brows etching together as Isaac brought fingers up against his features, indicating a deficit in his eye. His lover's vision had deteriorated. Hell, probably had been deteriorated for god knows how long now, unspoken to the masses knowing Isaac's ability to keep his unfortunate circumstances to himself. "We'll talk about this new development later. Until then, I've got you."
Hannah
Watching as the meek mother made her way from the room with the dogs Hannah returned her attention to the other woman left in the room, the one pleading for her to go with them to keep her safe. It was ridiculous that she was even considering it - ridiculous that she even considered leaving with those who'd exiled her for trying to help in the long run. As ridiculous as it was the redhead knew she was going to take the offer. Without responding to the woman, the bruised teen turned back to where her bow had fallen to the floor before heading towards the window where the woman was awaiting her. Mere seconds before she'd left the building the door to the room was once more forced open and one of the old Council members - Elijah - burst into the room, panting and looking worse off. Without even considering the consequences the young redhead once more notched an arrow towards the man and released the bowstring, watching in satisfaction as it hit the target and a spray of blood burst from the center of his neck.
Owen
Her door was open, too. He wanted to believe that all the other doors had been open for a reason, ‘cause people had run out and found somewhere to go, but this doorknob had his fingers splayed, ghosting over the metal. Owen didn’t have to look inside to know she wasn’t there. He did it anyway. Smoke everywhere and she’d sought him out. This was her blood on the floor, thick and then thinner. This was — he was nearly stepping in it, where it slicked across the tile, and Owen, he pressed his palm over his mouth in case he yelled or retched or choked. Nothing happened. He wiped his shoe against the floor and stared at the line of red.
Isaac
Isaac's heart hit his throat as his sentence finished, expecting to see contempt in Logan's eyes yet only seeing bright concern. Later. With a short nod he rose back to his feet and waited a moment for Logan to join him, they had things to do. There was going to be a later, there was, they just had to find it together.
Lori
Giano was falling to his knees. She slowed down her pace, knocking the butt-end of the shotgun into a clickers head, smashing it against the wall. Painted it in black and brain. The leg of the chair was in pieces, and Giano was struggling to get back on his feet, swinging his arms out to land a blow against Corvo. "Uh, uh, uh," Lori made a noise at the back of her throat, jumping over a fallen body and pressing the barrel of the gun against his temple. "Get up." With her free hand, she grabbed him by his scalp, pushing his neck against the tip of the gun. So she could look at him in the eyes when she killed him -- see that light, that happiness snuffed out. "You should've given her a chance-- you should've. You shouldn't have had her out there in the first place." She shoved his head away, kicked at the backs of his knees. "Look at him. Look at him." Rico's body, separating Corvo and Giano from a physical encounter. "He loved her, y'know that? And so did I. And you--" Her monologue was cut short, it seemed as a clicker emerged through the darkness and snaked its arms around Corvo's torso. Lori was shouting his name; with one thing on her mind, now: Gwen. Gwen. Fuck.
Gwen
"I'm not mad," she reassured the girl as they continued moving. "It could have happened to either of us." Her palm enclosed upon Ivy's shoulder, keeping her frame from trembling in fear over such a close encounter. It was understandable to feel the after effects of fear, especially when the taught skin of her throat had been so close to destruction. "I trust you to lead just fine... But we need to find him." The name was unnecessary, both of them knowing the subject lingering on her tongue.
Savannah
Echoes howled against the walls. She wasn't the only one firing a gun. Some others were too. The thought of a possibility caught her off guard. She caught a glimpse of Corvo's game and Lori's gestures. Was this some kind of revenge she had nothing to do with? Her favorite thing to leave behind. She had already lost the chance to get hers, by this time. So where was the whole point? She glanced at them and looked away. Not the day for contemplating other's murder. Savannah moved away and let clickers come in by hiding behind the door then left, closing it.
Lexie
The silence which surrounded the male only forced angular brows to thread together, a minor response for the following action when fleeing appeared to be the only sentiment he appeared interested in. No matter how much her smaller frame thrashed within his hold, he still remained to hold onto her as if she were his lifeline. "Casey," she spoke once, trying to heave him from the wreckage of his own mind and offer some semblance of control. "I'm not leaving her behind," her tone matched that of a plea, repudiating her losses to include a particular female. Lexie refused to join the masses who had destroyed her friend's heart as if it were merely feeble glass, allowing her beliefs that the world was truly cruel to only be certified if she was so easily left behind. "If you don't put me down, this knife is gonna be in your shoulder blade."
Ivy H.
Last time she had been this close, she killed the thing by stepping on its skull. It was Corvo who was that close that time, with his hand on her shoulder, not Gwen. Poetic. She nodded again. " We're not leaving him behind. " She reassured, then stopped at the sight of a rotten body. She raised a brow then grabbed her stuff; her knife especially, just after killing her brain just in case. " Well, fuck you I gave you mercy. " Ivy tilted her head then, not even daring to tell Gwen why she would hate the silly blonde so much.
Logan
His chin nodded towards one of the tables, well the mass of tables actually, and he began a knowing approach towards them. "We need to start a barricade over at least one of the entrances. Make this a safe place to hide out for a bit." Everyone else's mistake had been to flee into open territory, to make themselves prey for the skittish creatures without sufficient places to take cover. "Help me move some of these."
Isaac
Isaac appreciated Logan retaining the tactical, logical part of himself. There was something rough and wild in Isaac that made him lash out, adrenaline fuelled and reckless. These instructions were ones that he would not have been able to grasp for himself, anxiety warring with the chemical flood of terror, Logan cut through it and he began to quickly haul as much of the tables as he could in the direction of the exit. A barricade, something to buy them time.
Gwen
We're not leaving him behind. If there was one thing Gwen had become determined to see through, beyond her own survival and that of her unborn child, it was the concept that the man she loved and her adoptive child would escape the clutches of death at her side. She refused to embrace any world in which they became separated from her permanently, where she would be forced to live out her days alone. How ironic, for the woman who once craved solitude and a lack of human connection to grasp at those closest to her for dear life. No comment came at Ivy's distaste for the girl, rather a statement. "I don't see Lori."
Corvo
How he desired to vocalise that putting him out of his misery would no longer soothe the demons which encompassed the blonde; to perforate brain matter with the shells in her shotgun and ignore that her actions had never quite been enough. It made far more sense to obliterate his kneecap and allow death to be as leisurely as the pain which seeped into the blonde's mindset ever since Charlotte had passed. Yet, as words grazed his vocal chords, his familiar limp aching from the impact of the deceased, shrieking of an infected caught his attention before time refused to offer seconds to gather himself to react. He curled a single hand around the throat as he strained under the weight of it, throwing him down upon the tiles in desperation to tear limb from limb. "Son of a bitch." It was only right he'd go out cursing.
Ivy H.
Ivy raised her brow. She moved again, walking in front of Gwen, now motivated by the sudden rage seeing Piper on the floor had fueled her body with. The death of her father had been in vain. " I taught her well. " She presumed, remembering now the times they bonded over training with Elijah, the evenings they spent together aiming at things with knifes. A small smirk. Surprised by the fact that the sole image of Piper death had done this to her, she tried not to condemn herself. Concern and guilt would come later. As she walked now, her body stopped shaking. A clicker by the end of their way. Ivy stopped. Then someone shoot it.
Hannah
Watching as the man who, once upon a time, was a mentor-turned-betrayer to her slump down to the floor as blood paved rivers across his body was more satisfying to Hannah than she ever would've realised it to be. Of course it wouldn't ever be the same as gutting Charlotte but she'd take what she could get. Making her way towards him she sank down to her knees and yanked the arrow from his throat, grinning at him as she saw the betrayal that had settled behind his rapidly fading eyes. "Not a fun feeling, is it?" she asked mockingly, the grin on her face only widening at his discomfort. Placing the arrow on the floor beside her she once again reached for her knife before tilting her head slightly, contemplating how to go about the next step. She'd heard the rumours back when she was in the city - rumours of immunity and Elijah was one of those they based around. If there was a chance to learn from that she'd take it.
With that in mind she cut into the man's chest, watching in fascination as the blood lazily leaked from the wound as she pulled further. She'd go for the lungs, nothing more, nothing less. They'd be the reason why he wasn't susceptible to the spores, something within them was what had kept him alive all this time. Seeing no reason to delay the inevitable any further the redhead dove inside the man's body, peeling back the flaps of skin enough that she could see what she was doing inside. One of her hands wrapped around one of Elijah's lungs as she went in with her knife, jaggedly cutting the sac away from the rest of his innards before removing it from his body and placing it beside her bow. Seeing no reason to leave the job half finished, the teen went for the only remaining lung, sawing it away before pulling away from the man and leaving him in a puddle of his blood. Slinging her bow back over her shoulder, the redhead made her way to the window to see Ada still standing there. "Hold this for me a minute." One of the detached lungs was thrown towards the dark haired teen as she went back to grab the other before finally leaving the hospital once and for all, satisfied with what she'd gotten out of the excursion. Sure, she'd not done exactly what she'd initially planned on doing but there was time to scout out the building at a later date.
Savannah
Savannah was making her way towards the people who were shooting. There were less and less clickers trying to find their ways to possible victims. As if they had either been killed or were already having fun with broken bones as new fashion trends. Many of them were dead. She recognised that, if she were to die, she would have surely taken down some with her too. A clicker screached in the air, as if he had seen some new victims. She didn't hesitate to shoot and aproach it. The sound would atract more. She turned right then saw the two females. " Have you seen Lexie? Piper? " Savannah approached them.
Lori
She didn't get to finish. The pull of the trigger wasn't a release of anger, or retribution; only a temporal cloud. Giano's blood sputtering across her face, covering her line of sight. The force of the shotgun knocked her back flat on her ass. Disorientated for a moment. The shotgun had been pressed against his temple. She could feel the shot ringing in her ears. Lori had to use the back of her palm to wipe the blood, the splinters of Giano's brain, out of her eyes. Took a moment for her to figure out how to breathe again, and press her elbows into the ground to perch herself up. Corvo was sprawled against the ground. "Cole--" Lori was choking out, reaching blindly for the gun -- littered somewhere on the ground against bodies and blood. Still couldn't see that well when she blinked, the blood staining the back of her eyelids. By some chance, she felt it in her hands, shot blindly -- hoped to God and to Gwen and everything else that existed that she hadn't shot him, in the process.
Casey
She was thrashing against him, trying to struggle out of his hold, but he wouldn't have it. "I'm not leaving you behind." His voice was stern, a little broken. "I can save you. I can save him." Noah, after every blink. His eyes were stinging. He had to stop himself for blinking and keep moving them forward. Once they found a desolated hallway, Casey set her back on her feet. Sighed through her threat. "You're okay." An avoidance, with his hands on her shoulders. The determination so bright in the darkness of her eyes. The way her lips wrapped around his name. "Not gonna lose you. Not gonna do it, Lex." He repeated, scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Where would she be?"
Gwen
"Neither," she confirmed to the brunette who approached, eyeing Savannah warily in case she had been bitten. Piper was not a name Gwen knew, though she presumed they had yet to come across the woman. "Corvo?" In direct contrast to the majority of the time, she would not hide her concern over the man's well being nor her adoration for him in this moment. His survival tugged at the ability for her to breathe, her lungs entirely dependent on seeing his face once more.
Savannah
Savannah revealed her face, putting the scar away from her face. She recognised Gwen and the kid whose name didn't know. She had seen her around though. The answers wasn't that helpful, though it was surprising that part of her was glad to help. Nonetheless, she hesitated before answering. The blonde and the criminal were ending someone. She eyed the kid. Who cared at this point? Certainly not her. Ignoring the guilt on the kid's gaze, she tilted her head to point the way she had come from. " Take that way. The only closed door. I left him with Lori. " And she took no more time before leaving them behind.
Ivy H.
The kid felt Piper's name as an arrow towards her. And if she had been finding some strength in her latest moments, it all went down. She kept quiet and desired to move as swift as possible towards the direction the girl gave. No promises, no tips. Who knew if they would seen her again? She barely saw the red scarf kneeling towards a body, the body she had mutilated seconds ago.
Corvo
He could practically feel the depth of Hell beckoning him towards the Devil's clutches, the weight of the world shackling him to the surface of the hospital; how exhaustion would always be the prime killer for the majority. Perhaps then, as his eardrums rang the symphony of white noise, the obliteration of at least a single limb of the infected had allowed him some time; the very thing snapping it’s jaw as it leaped upwards and darted for the blonde. “No—” the word slipped from his tongue as his line of sight only caught the intentions of chaos. How dare she sacrifice herself for the man who had already provided plentiful torment. “Lori!”
Logan
Shoving table by table against the nearest entrance, he began to create a sufficient barrier between the men and the infected with the help of Isaac. Should any survivors head their direction, he would happily direct them through the double paned window towards the opposing doors which had yet to be consumed by clickers. "That should hold them for a bit." He sighed, leaning against the wooden framework of a chair. "I fucking hate hospitals."
Savannah
The weight of living felt too heavy as the disgrace face of death masked Piper's beautiful traits. Someone had pulled out a knife of her head. After all the dead corpses she had seen, including Xavier's, this was the one who moved her so far. And yet if it was stupid or unconscious, remembering of the fight they had one day, the ghost kissed the dead before robbing her a stupid necklace. That was the closest to showing care she had been in her whole existance. She pulled herself out of it. There were chances that there were still people alive. Savannah knew she had been doing contradictory things, heading places she didn't need to be. But maybe it wasn't too late to find her. Yet, on her way to Lexie, she heard the moanings she couldn't express. A man, with his features covered in blood, hiding in a room. Savannah looked at him. " She's dead. You're not. Choose now, do you live for her or do you miserably die too? "
Gwen
Gwen nodded at the brunette's words, grasping Ivy's wrist and tugging her away from the deceased. She would not waste another moment when he existed so close to her, just barely out of reach and within several steps of her own hurried gait. Throwing open the door, she wasted no time in entering the abode with blade drawn. God only knows what horrors occurred in the time that the pair had been left alone together.
Lexie
"I'm right here," she assured. "I'm pretty hard to lose now." She couldn't understand his mentality, yet perhaps hers was only similar; two strangers thrown together in turmoil to only do the very thing they believed they were simply incapable of - trust. "Please, just... Look, I can do this, okay? I'm still here right now." A single hand grazed her forehead as she pondered the whereabouts of her friend, attempting to recycle memories in hopes they would guide her. "I don't know," she shrugged. "I mean, the first time she... The canteen was kinda like our hide-out. Maybe she went there because who the hell wouldn't be scared right now? It's a guess, but it's better than nothing. I can't leave Sav behind, Case."
Lori
He was calling her name. So foreign, she thought. Used to call out Gwen when they were tangled in sheets and body sweat, used to call her every other name under the sun -- princess and blondie and goldilocks and-- now, he was shouting her name. The clicker was crawling toward her now, and Lori was trying to wriggle away. Whimpered loudly, before raising the shotgun. Click. Empty. In an attempt to escape, she tossed it at the creature. It was momentarily stunted, before it lifted up its head -- covered in fungus -- and screeched. If it wasn't this one that took her out, it was going to be the next. Promise. His voice, ringing through her ear now. "God," she cried, moved to push Giano's corpse (was it even Giano? His entire face was blown.) into the clickers line of sight.
Isaac
Isaac's shoulder screamed at him, overworked to a point that made him ache terribly all across his torso. "Me fucking too." He huffed, smearing a palm down his slick cheek and smiling in a slap-happy sort of way. The irony made him want to laugh even as more than half of their group lay dead or weighing down the stomachs of infected. He had always had a bad gut feeling about the place. "Is your leg okay?" He remembered suddenly the discomfort he still sometimes saw from the other and his brow pinched as he looked him over.
Owen
Like listening to someone talk with your hands over your ears. Everything was far away and blurry-sounding — he heard the clicking, but he didn’t really hear it — and then there was a voice, and he was turning his head. “I—“ Owen blinked slowly, and then all at once. She died miserably. And he had other reasons to stay alive. “She could—could be…” Miserably. Yeah. Okay. His beard was already too soft to scratch his hand, as he ran it over his face. You’re freaking the fuck out on me, Kate had said. He breathed through it. “Yeah. Okay.”
Casey
"You can do this, I know that." His hands were in her hair, pushing it away from her eyes. "I'm doing it, too. I'm coming with you." Her assurances, along with the way she felt against his skin, made him swallow down the ghosts. The hall was starting to fill again, with fungus and snarling clickers. "We won't leave her behind, 'cause I'm not leaving you behind. Let's go." He grabbed her by the arm, and ran them down the hallway in the direction of the canteen.
Ivy H.
The girl followed her mother, adoptive mother, just to find a Guernica.
Corvo
He heaved himself from the floor with every ounce of triumph which remained, ignoring the lethargy coursing throughout his veins. He had two options in this final feat: leave the blonde for her own demise or assist her with a foreign sense of kindness only explored when his family were in the premises. As a groan departed from his lips and he found stability on two feet, he grasped Lori's wrist with a single hand and pulled her upright. "Not a chance you're dyin' today, Goldilocks."
Savannah
The girl gave away her hand, just to help him move. As they walked and she held her gun, now straight forward to the canteen, she released herself from the scarf to offer him something to clean himself with. " Be quick. " She claimed. " I don't want to have to leave you behind. " Too many people she had left behind so far. But as they approached the canteen, the girl stopped. Right in the middle. " Don't move. " She ordered. Too many people. And not enough silence. Something was running. Something huge. And not exactly towards them. One big shot, then screams. Savannah grabbed him. She didn't know his name. Took a moment to balance the odds.
Lori
Somehow, she was on her feet. Corvo's fingers wrapped around her wrist, tugging her. The clicker was gnawing on Giano's flesh. Another whimper, before she grabbed the shotgun off the ground. Smashed it so hard against its skull that its neck completely twisted. Lori didn't even realise it when the weapon was slipping out of bloody fingers, and she could taste the metallic on her tongue. Glanced up, to see if there was a clock, to see if she could pinpoint how much time had passed. "Thank you." She said, wheezing. Thumbed some blood from her lips. "I gotta go-- I gotta find Owen--" The door to the stairwell was clicking open, and Lori spun around, tried to prepare herself. She wasn't sure if she had enough energy left to fight. The steps were steady; even. Ivy. "Gwen!" Lori cried, found herself gripping onto Corvo's arm to keep herself upright.
Lexie
Although appreciation never laced itself around a plethora of words, a warmth altered her expression and for once her aching bones felt at ease; a concept deemed only capable by the assurance of the opposing survivor. "I know you won't." I trust you. The trust in which allowed her to pursue alongside him, crouching to quieten footsteps and the possible chance the infected would be lured by their rushed motion. Nonetheless, when the doors of the canteen were merely an inch or so away, she used the full strength of her weight to ease open the entrance. No sight of a female caught her eyes as she surveyed her surroundings, desperation clinging to her in all consistency. "Where is she?" The question remained rushed, her footsteps quick against linoleum as she scavenged for any small possibility.
Gwen
At the sight of them, Gwen felt an insurmountable relief overcome her frame and she brushed hair out of Ivy's face before enclosing the space between herself and the dark eyed male as she examined him for bites. "Looks like I'm not getting rid of you just yet," she gave him an unsteady half-smile, more grateful than anything that he was unharmed. They had never displayed affection before the masses, enduring as simply inseparable companions, but his confession from the other night still rung in her ears and she couldn't be bothered with appearances right now. "The cafeteria. It's big and on the other side of the hospital. I guarantee it's empty. If we can make it there, we have both a door to the outside and enough furniture to barricade ourselves inside." She hadn't known, of course, that someone else had the very same thought prior.
Owen
It was easier to pull himself together now that there was someone looking at him again. He turned the scarf over, a thank you stuck somewhere in his head -- that would come later, once they met up at the woods -- and made quick use of dragging it over his forehead, his wrists, his hands. They could walk while he did that. They did walk while he did that, the girl's gun never far from her body, her neck mottled funny in the passing light through open doors. He only stopped when she cautioned him (how old was she? too young) at the canteen's entrance. Gunshot. Screaming. Owen pressed his fingers into his shoulder, then straightened and passed her scarf back to her. "See anything?" He couldn't.
Ivy H.
While the huge canteen dealt with a new orchestra of screams, Ivy felt shivers down her spine watching the scene and holding the door. She looked at Gwen trying to stand her ground and watched her go towards the man. As she took a deep breath, Ivy managed to keep her feet steady. It felt nice watching Gwen reunite with Corvo the way she had dreamt she would one day reunite with Matt. She bit her lower lip for a second. She approached Lori with a smile. " Glad to see you. " She offered to hold her by doing it without asking permission. Listening to Gwen, Ivy added. " I'm sure there'll be people there too. "
Logan
"I'll live," he replied with a sigh before the opposing doors of the cafeteria were thrust open by an unfamiliar pairing entered the space. "Well, you could've knocked." His dry humour was probably going to be ill received, but that hardly stopped him from vocalizing it regardless. "If you're going to hole up here, at least help us pile tables up."
Savannah
The girl eyed the scarf and hid her deepest wounds in it. "It's a bloater." Screams and people running weren't that far away. " And this is going to atract everything that keeps walking. " Abandoning that amount of people, it still would have been an option if there wasn't a possibility that she was there. The first bomb hit the barricade after a shriek. Savannah closed her eyes. " This might sound crazy, but that people need a way out. Does the canteen have two doors? "
Casey
He could feel her anxiety in the way the hairs on her arms stood, and the way she halted after the threshold. Couldn't keep his eyes off of her, just in case. Didn't see it, but felt it: the ground rumbling beneath them. Something stinging his eyes, a pollen-like substance. Spores, in the distance. "Lex, get down!" He shouted, as another spore bomb was tossed in their direction. A bloater. He'd heard things, out in the woods, but he'd never seen-- he'd never seen one in person. He pressed his back against a fallen table, covering his hand over her mouth, so she wouldn't breathe it in. "Can you see her?" His eyes were darting across the room. Bodies littered the floor, others were upright-- amongst the edges of the room. "There!" He pointed to Savannah, clutching a built male alongside an entryway. "She's okay," he breathed into Lexie's hair.
Lori
Her chest was making it hard to breathe. Sporadically rising and falling. "You too," she breathed, squeezing Ivy's arm. Allowed Gwen and Corvo to share a tender moment, but swallowed, impatient. She wanted that, too. Needed to find him. "Let's go, then," she urged, tugging Ivy by the hand as they made their way back up the stairwell and onto the main floor. She wasn't sure if Gwen or Corvo were following, or whether she was pulling on Ivy too hard, but it was too hard to swallow blood and try and focus on the time. She'd be late, she knew it. Didn't even know how she was running, until they skidded by the entrance to the cafeteria and saw it. "What the fuck--" she was cursing in a huff. There'd be no way they'd make it out of here, now: doors that lead outside. The woods. Ten minutes. Was searching the crowd of faces lingering by the outskirts of the cafeteria, and the ones that slumped against the floor, that she didn't realise what was happening. Somehow, in a knee-jerk reaction, pushed Ivy out of the way. Saw her fall, out of the corner of her eye, before she was choking on spores, and staggering backwards, and all she could see where the little balls of light as they invaded her vision.
Owen
"Yeah. Yeah, I think so." A bloater, she'd said. He could feel it, now, the way the floor rumbled rhythmically under their feet. Never been far enough west for a real earthquake. He figured they probably felt a little bit like this did: ominous, kind of surreal. Shaky, starting with your ankles. "It's not crazy," he said, reaching over to grab her elbow so they'd steady as best as they could. "We can't leave them there." Too many people had died. Too much blood on the bottom of his shoes.
Isaac
Isaac brightened slightly at the others joining them. Anyone else surviving was purely a bonus, they could do this, they could make it out. A few of them. Then chaos erupted once again, instinctively he curled himself in front of Logan's body as the bloater advanced and suddenly shot a stream of spores directly at Lori. On a gasp he pulled his own gas mask from the strap on his shoulder and leaned up onto his tip toes to pull it over Logan's head before he was darting away to get a better vantage point, he lovingly took the safety off of his gun before looking to the others for guidance. "We're gonna need to use some fire power for this, we're gonna be crawling in infected!" He shouted, methodically working his way over to where Lori was covered in yellow fibres.
Lexie
As the floor vibrated underneath her, the relief which came at the sight of her friend soon evaporated; no rest for the wicked as some may say. Several thoughts crossed her mind as she attempted to latch onto survival with all she had. "I've got an idea," she spoke, coiling her fingertips around his wrist and lifting herself up from their guard. There was no time for explanations, no words to convey what her actions soon would. She just hoped that he'd trust her as she did him. ----The kitchen was her first priority as she darted towards the vicinity, grasping the neck of a liquor bottle and hunting throughout the cupboards to find a propane torch; the item having been used to light the stove on numerous occasions. With that, she returned to her previous spot; crouching behind the overturned table and fumbling around with the bottle with shaky fingertips. It took mere seconds for her to light the alcohol, how the vibrant shades of tangerine tore through the glass and spiraled in the direction of the bloater.
She knew it would take more than this, but it was a start.
Savannah
We can't leave them there. The bomb dropped around the corners of her eyes. The thought of people coughing on spores. There was an only way she knew how to fight this. Taking the bloater to a ride. She remembered now, when Xavier and her were still a team, of how they had learn to move those fat asses and use them against groups. Maybe she could still do that. But someone was faster. If I find Vodka you'll be the first one I'll go to, Sav smiled. " Okay, listen. I'm running in there. You can either help me out or help yourself until the other door. " The raven haired girl offered the male her knife. " You're armed. Either follow me or make sure to get everyone out. " Savannah turned her head, listening the bloater groaning in pain. Lexie. " Now. "
Isaac
Flames erupted around the bloater as the cocktail landed, a deafening scream stroke roar thundered from its open mouth as it burned. The acrid smell of burning fungus spread quickly making Isaac gag thickly against the scent hitting the back of his throat.
Casey
She was pulling them away from cover, the smile dipping from her expression. "Lex--" he tried to protest, but it was okay. It was okay. The bloater had its back, covered in fungus (growing, even then, as it stood) to them. A blonde, knocked to the ground, coughing out her lungs. Blood dripping down her chin. He shouldn't've been grateful-- but they were covered. The bloater was distracted, advancing in the opposite direction. Lexie pulled him into the kitchen. He let her rifle through the cupboards, peeking out the slip of light in the door to keep patrol. Alcohol. A propane torch. "Fuck," he murmured. "You're-- you're just--" A genius. Took him by the hand as they ran back to their cover. She threw it, long arm, at the mass of fungus. It flinched back: armour trickling down onto the floor.
Savannah
People were behind a barricade. The raven haired girl entered the room with a vitorious chant. " THAT'S IT, LEXIE! " And it was the closest to happiness she had encountered so far. This people, they were real. Some of them, they were important. Lexie was. She would not let Piper's death be stupid. " Keep them coming! " The bloater, blinded by everything and now confused by its wound, followed Savannah's voice. There was something in danger that had her feeling the closest to feeling alive.
Ivy H.
Ivy hit the ground and felt dizzy, trying to find where Gwen and Corvo were. Trying to cover herself with her own clothes, the girl felt nurturing hands around her.
Isaac
Isaac stumbled over to where Lori had crumpled, covered in the tiny flecks of spores from the bloater's projectile. He dragged one of his last, threadbare tshirts out of his pack and furiously wiped at any skin he could reach despite the burning of his lungs in protest at the thickening of the air. "Lor, hey, breathe through this if you're still struggling, 'kay?" He mumbled, half his attention on the two tonne creature that could kill any number of the final stragglers left in the room.
Owen
The knife was too much to accept, but Owen was running low on choices. He tugged his shirt-collar up over his nose like they did in quarantine movies, so he could breathe through the cotton, so it would filter out the spores. Short of throwing her over his shoulder, he couldn't stop her from running in -- and he actually considered it, for a blink, before shaking off the thought. The woods. Ten minutes. He was pretty sure time'd run out. The girl took off for the bloater, and Owen sought out the other door through the blurry, fuzzy-specked air. Someone was coughing on the floor. He made his breaths more shallow.
Lori
Isaac was by her side, then, pushing cotton against her mouth. The air was still thick with it all. Coughing so hard against it, that she felt the blood scraping against her throat. Couldn't even be grateful for his safety, because she was keeled over. With her last bout of energy, she tried to shove him away. Could feel the ground shaking. "Move." Lori urged. It was hardly even inaudible, but the sentiment was there. Only me, she thought. Bitten, not once, but twice-- now struggling to breathe around a stream of spores; something she couldn't be fully effected by. Isaac could. She shoved him again. "Leave."
Isaac
Isaac let himself be shoved the first time, the second time he drew away from her. He coughed roughly into his sleeve before levelling his gun at the infected.
Lori
She breathed into the fabric, scrambled away once Isaac was out of sight. Saw him from across the way. Tried to call his name, but her throat was too thick. Too dry. Blinked and still felt the spores against her skin. Crawled all the way, on her hands and knees, 'till she reached him. Tugged at his ankles and coughed one last time.
