* Its a quiet morning, the sun has barely woken up, giving a faint light to the dead and broken concrete streets of the now abandoned town. No bodies, no blood, not even any signs of struggle. It just seems like everyone dissipated, without a trace.
- Maybe the Goverment-Funded Bunkers are to blame, who knows.
* Well, at least that leaves the area completely empty, and up ahead, there seems to be a relatively large mall. Imagine what you two could get in there, especially considering the mall seems to be untouched, some doors even being visibility locked. Its a Gold Mine.
(RP STARTER)
(Signed - Keep tabs on your back. For they are catching up.)
The faint sound of the wind was rather comforting, to Outage at least.
"Can't believe how... mysterious everything is when it's abandoned. I swear I was here beforehand."
Adrien kept on look-out, flinching at the tiniest of noises. His paranoia was obvious.
"...what's with the nervousness? We're alone."
"I feel like something's gonna happen. I feel like if I'm here any longer, I'll just...wake up from some kind of cruel dream."
"Hey, I'm real, don't worry about it!"
Adrien just nodded. He wasn't willing to argue right now.
...
The town really was dead.
Adrien felt anemoia pierce through his soul, and an odd nostalgia ran through Outage. The disturbed and comforted stopped in unison as they saw the mall in the distance, however.
Outage began to giggle. He hadn't been in a mall in a looong while...
"...hey, you know what this means, right?"
Adrien just stared ahead. He did know, he just... didn't want to come to terms with the fact that ...
"We're going into that mall." He looked back with a smile, and Adrien straightened his face. Don't let yourself look unwilling.
A small step forward. Another step, another step... a walk turned into a sprint of sudden excitement.
"Hey- WAIT! Wait on me, wait!" As much as Adrien wanted to stay behind, the pitter-patter of shoes on concrete and the gentle flowing of fabric followed the two of them inside.
There seems to be a structure nearby, it quite big but looks simple. It looks like a factory, it doors locked but there seems to be a vent leading to the inside.
The facility seems quite secure, it might be safe in there. But something looks off about this place, it looks weird.
Wasabi stops what he was doing (quietly talking to himself) as soon as he saw the building, cutting himself off. He stops to stare, flipping the camera’s view from his face to the building itself as he slowly walked towards it.
“…I don’t remember this place. Seems we got a change of plans.”
He seemed hesitant to even walk nearby the dang place, looking around to see if anything was nearby, very clearly on high alert. This probably wasn’t the best idea, but who knows, some other civilian could be in here. Most likely not someone who he knew, but…hey, what could he know?
Officially going up to the place, he tried the doors, camera right at his hands. He swiftly realized that they were locked after trying them like two more times.
“This is…a stupid idea, maybe, but hey, if I get to see more than one other person at some point I can always say I found a new location. No promises I’ll be able to retrack this place though. Least I’ll get a clip of it.”
He ultimately decides to just circle the building, eventually coming across the vent. It’s not at all in camera view, but he makes an inaudible but noticeable comment about it before walking over.
…was he really going to do this?
Turning the camera off so that he can start a new recording when he’s inside for archival and easy searching purposes, he kneeled by the vent. This was the stupidest thing he’s ever considered, let alone done. Surpassed letting Sammy get attacked by that damned robot by a landslide, if not multiple.
He contemplated it for a few moments, eventually creating a plan; go in, record the second he managed to get inside, find the doors and see if they’ll open that way, then explore the place cautiously. Just imagine someone’s waiting for you outside, he thought. Maybe that’d help him feel more confident.
Eventually, he made the move, deciding to go through the vent, hoping his cape wouldn’t get snagged on anything or drop his camera on the way.
An abandoned structure lies up ahead, a gas station in the middle of nowhere, right beside the street, which is now covered in vines, broken beyond recognition.
The gas station, from the windows, seems to still have some supplies left, even if its noticeable that its not in the best shape.
It would serve to feed some mouths, and considering Wasabi is alone, he might be able to feed himself for days. But if he decides to grab the food is for him to decide.
Oh.
He wipes his eyes with his hand, shaking heavily. This was...pathetic, wasn't it? He really needed to suck it up. Not because it wasn't truth, but because the longer he's like this the more likely he is to do stupid shit—which, now that that's mentioned—is something he's very well going to do.
He stares into the gas station, thinking about home. Thinking about when his mom used to take him on weekends or when he just had a long day after school to as little reward for making it. He missed his mom, dearly. He ignored all of her flaws; her glaring issues with peculiarity, arguing through the walls at three in the morning and lies about a stable marriage, truly loving her husband as she said she did. All he could think about her was the good things, which was a first for him.
He noticed the supplies, felt hunger slap him in the face and stomach. He hadn't actually eaten anything good for...a long while. It was dark out, and no one appeared to be inside...ignoring the vines and signs that he'd usually take as danger, he decided that he'd go in. He needed to have something to feel better. Maybe there was something sweet in here that...wasn't expired.
Who knew how late it was. One in the morning? That's what Wasabi assumed. Was he just gonna go into here and hope that there's edible things? No, what is he thinking, he can see them. Who cares if they're expired, it's better than thinking you'll die to poison eating random berries you foraged.
He didn't dare turn his camera on or make a comment. He went over to the door, wherever it may be, and pushed on it, leading it to open.
As the Runner wanders the earth, he stumbles upon a church, with a cemetary.
The church is covered in golden chains, and the walls are cracked and broken.
A call comes from the church, a scream, a noise fused with a high-pitched female scream.
(RP STARTER)
(Signed - @death-by-sound)
Wasabi, as he wanders, couldn't help but wonder a few things internally, not entirely paying attention to anything. This changed as he noticed that church.
The golden chains reminded him of somebody he'd interacted with before, and that scream engraved itself into the man's head well since he first interacted with this otherworldly individual.
He paused, fumbling to turn on his camera. He'd forgotten to use it, to log anything. It was embarrassing, as he knew some people could see what he logged. Did someone think he was dead out there? No, he's getting sidetracked. He managed to get the camera to record, flipping it to himself.
"...sorry I haven't done anything in a while. I've just been...out and about."
He struggled to hold his camera steady, but that was pretty typical. His hands weren't the most stable all of the time.
"There was a scream, happened just now. I think I know who this is." He spoke to the camera, not entirely centered. "I'll just record until then. I still don't have a lanyard, so you're coming with me in my hands I guess."
For some reason, he felt the need to refer to the camera as its own being, as if he had viewers. He really didn't, he just had little anonymous spectators that commented and probably pointed and laughed at times. At least some of them cared.
Cautiously, he walked to the source of the noise, trying to move in a way that wouldn't make as much noise. He didn't want to end up bleeding; he got lucky enough with bruises and bandages that he's taken off by now because he thought he'd healed enough.
"...hello?" He stupidly muttered. He instantly felt like the average horror movie protagonist, but continued on.
[The magician stopped a comfortable distance away from the young civilian that was clutching a camera before making their presence known. Far away enough to not get punched in the face this time, hopefully. You've learned your lesson, Copywand.]
"Apologies if I'm disturbing you. I haven't seen a living soul around here in a bit."
-@est-ce-ton-corps
"Gah-!"
Wasabi grabbed onto his cloak with his available hand as he heard the sound of a familiar french accent, but found himself relieved when it wasn't that damned man.
"...o-oh. Oh!-" He suddenly flicked his camera down to the grass below, struggling to quickly turn it off, then promptly back on. "Come on, come on-"
Once he got it situated, he sighed and apologized. "...sorry, I was, uhm...n-nevermind. H-hello!" He waved as politely as possible. "N-no disturbances, no worries! I welcome new faces." He felt cringe for saying that.
A thud is heard nearby, multiple of them, rock hitting against ground, like someone is slamming a pebble onto it. But the sound is inconsistent, but it comes in parts of two, like footsteps, its coming in his direction, the sound getting louder even if not by much as it draws near.
-Death by Noise. (@blogless-and-anonymous)
Pretty much immediately, Wasabi is put into panic mode. He points the camera to wherever the noise came from, backing off at a mild pace.
The camera does not capture anything but the nature around him, along with something similar to the likes of an abandoned church. The hold is unsteadier than usual.
"Come on, come on, yall, do interact with the guy...!"
"I guess there is more on here. Never thought I'd see one of Draw's plans work."
"Come on man, not even a bit of faith in me?"
- @civilians-of-the-round . they are still (somewhat) arguing.
"O-oh— uh, hello?" He panics for a moment, pointing his camera up as he heard voices, then down as he saw people. "That's...th-that's a lot more people than I expected, hello-"
He stands awkwardly in place, watching them argue and do their thing. He waits rather patiently to be referred to verbally.
