Mar. 9th, 2008


What year is it?

The sound of the gun had given Matt a jolt of adrenaline but he was torn when it came to who to follow. Rain had to track the source of noise naturally but Patrick had freaked and ran off in other direction. He looked between the two different paths they had taken for a moment before coming to a decision to follow Patrick. Rain knew what she was doing, she was trained and she could handle a deadly situation. Matt doubted that Patrick would be so capable though he was impressed by how far Patrick had gotten down the hallway before Matt found him. His eyes widened as they fell upon the axe in Patrick's hands. "Careful", he cautioned from behind, no doubt startling Patrick. "You wouldn't want to accidentally hit yourself in the leg with that".

The glass lined hallway was empty with the exception of the two men but the peacefulness had Matt on edge. The Hive had seemed pretty peaceful too until the zombies started to attack them. "We have to get out of here", he advised. "Find the others and stick together". As Matt turned around to head back toward where he thought Rain was to he noticed a metal door with a plaque reading 'Security Office'. Wouldn't hurt to check it out, he mused. There could be useful information, something to clue us in as to what's going on. "Patrick, keep an eye out. I want to see what's in this room", Matt ordered over his shoulder as he grabbed the handle. It opened easily under his touch, surprising the young man. A security office would have been locked, wouldn't it? The door lead to a room full of flickering screens with black and white images of the building set above a huge desk. "Security camera's" he murmured as he moved in closer. He could see Rain on one of them with the black haired man he had seen earlier with a woman who was standing half way out the camera's vision so Matt couldn't make out who it was. Somthing about her seems familiar though... As Matt leaned in further his brushed up against a pile of video tapes near by, knocking them over. "Shit...wait, March 2008?" He read out loud. That wasn't possible! There where more tapes labeled with more impossible dates.

"Patrick", Matt called out, feeling a little sick to his stomach. "What year is it?"

{{Patrick and Matt- Open to others but follow a posting order please.}}

Mar. 7th, 2008


Marching on.

It was bad enough she was in sudden shock with Alice being there, but it was even worse that they seemed to be...well... lost. "If you tell me we're lost I will throw something at you." Rain muttered since she was the one leading. "We went in circles..." now irritated with the map that the Latin beauty had ripped off of a nearby bulletin board she threw it over her shoulder after crumbling it up. "Fucking worthless." Ocampo growled and finally noticed a shadow somewhere along the wall, the kind that brought the hairs on the back of your neck on edge. However, if memory served her right. If she had died, then her body was weak...which gave her oh so much hope about future infections-no, there would be no more infections. Then again, the woman didn't think she'd get infected in the first place before either.

How did Alice's body withstand all the mutation? ... was she mutated? Was what Carlos had told her over the years real? As real as her hand had nearly gotten bitten off.

Mar. 2nd, 2008


Holy Ground - Open.

Oddly enough, the first thing Henry noticed after waking up was the air; it lacked the sick, bloated, and oppressive quality he’d grown accustomed to since things had gone awry at home. So, that right there was a sign that something was up. Not to mention those guys in the suits. Had they put him here? What had that been about, anyway? For that matter, where was here? …

Henry didn’t know. He sighed softly and sat up, his hands instantaneously going to either side of his head, where his fingers rubbed lazily. It felt like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to the back of his skull, and all of the questions bouncing around in his mind weren’t helping. Instead of dwelling on things that obviously couldn’t be solved right now, he turned his attention away from his thoughts, and focused on his surroundings. Henry slowly pushed himself up and off the ground, and scanned the area. Most of the buildings in his immediate vicinity were small and boring; the only thing that really stood out was a massive church. So, he jogged off towards that. It looked interesting, for one, and for another… well, there was generally always someone in a church, right? Sure, why not. It was better than assuming all hope was lost.

“Saint Paul’s Church,” he mouthed as he passed the sign. Henry stored that away for later, in case there was a need for it. Probably not, but it’d be good to know, anyway. He wasted no time once he’d hit the top of the concrete staircase, and pushed into the building. He didn’t give the foyer of the church much attention, primarily because it was dark, and there was really nothing to be seen. The nave was lit, though. Plenty of candles were lined up on the sanctuary. This sight filled him with the thinnest sliver of hope, because someone had to have lit them. He stopped about halfway up the main aisle and leaned lightly against one of the pews. Nobody was here, at least not out front; and Henry didn’t really want to impose on the sanctuary or the sacristy. Call it superstition or something. There were other ways to get attention, though.

“Hello? Anyone here?” His words were kind of weak, but the space helped amplify the sound of his voice.


and the machine is bleeding to death; open

The gears of Cold War had rusted when she passed. New wars had come and fallen away, but she had been deaf to all of that. She had been dead after all and the world had forgotten her, save the slim few that still visited a stone reminder that had longed decayed in the passing of time. Time - it was a fleeting thing and she had forgotten what time was when she died.

It was the red liquid that had brought her back. She watched it through her fading sight, watching the red creep into her arm. Was this the punishment at last? She had seen dark for such much time, but it seemed the Soviets were back to poison her body and to poison her name. She couldn't have peace and she couldn't feel the touch of The Sorrow as she hoped. It was a sad fate and as her vision fell again, she couldn't help but wonder if this reality was the Hell she was supposed to face.

When she awoke, all she could do was stare at the dawn. A dawn of a new day and her life restored - it seemed impossible. But she could taste a thirst on her tongue and she could feel the warmth of a new day. All logic was out the window and as she got to her feet, she hoped she would just fall back into the darkness that her last mission had called for.

But it never came.

The Boss breathed again and placed her fingers to her skin. She couldn't feel where the needle had punctured, but there was a sense of violation beneath the skin. What it was, she didn't know, but she suspected someone would inform her in do time. But that time wouldn't come unless she figured out why she had been pulled from the eternal daydream. Eying the surroundings, The Boss took note that everything was written out in plain English, designating it Non-Soviet territory. Well, that was a good sign; that either meant the United States decided to take her back or this was a test and she was the lab rat. It would be the space projects all over again and she swallowed thickly at the thought. Used and abused by the country she loved even when she had already spilled blood for them more than once.

The surroundings were that of a town; a normal little town that seemed almost..deserted. It definitely fit the bill for a test site, but for what was the question. She touched her teeth to her lip before reaching for a knife at her chest and finding, of course, nothing. Not a knife on her, it seemed, but perhaps even that was asking for much.

She took a brave step forward, listening as her boots touched the surface of the concrete. There wasn't much sound yet, nor was there much movement. She twisted in her stance, crouching low in the CQC form she had been so in love with during her life. And, as she continued forwarded, she noted how there were small signs that someone else had been here; blood stains had been left behind by something. They weren't fresh by any means, but they were still there.

The Boss shook her head and pressed on; war brought death and death brought sorrow. But, today, she would have none of either. She needed to find someone living, someone she could gather information from. That was her priority.

Mar. 3rd, 2008


Something like deja vu (OPEN)

Opening his eyes, Shinji took a deep breath, sitting up slowly and doing his best to ignore the wave of nausea that overcame him as he moved his head. Glancing down at his clothing, he noted he was still in his uniform, and it was still grubby. Raising a hand to his neck, he discovered the metal collar he had been assured would be a permanent placement for 72 hours until he either died, or won the game, was not there. He certainly didn't appear to be dead (and if the men drugging him - if his memory was correct - certainly leant towards him being alive), but that in itself begged the question of why. The government wouldn't have just let someone live out of the kindness of their hearts, and he highly doubted there was any method of fixing the game, and even if there were... He wouldn't be someone they'd allow to survive. He was sure he was high up on their list of 'liabilities', especially after the stunts he'd tried to pull.

Brow creasing in thought, he stood up slowly, testing his limbs. Everything seemed to be working, he wasn't in any particular pain, the only thing that was bothering him was where he was, and why. It was mostly the why. Turning his attention to his surroundings, he studied the buildings with interest; they certainly weren't any he'd seen in Japan, and the one or two occurrences of writing he could see was in English. Whilst it wouldn't pose a problem (he knew English), he just wasn't convinced his accent was all that great. In a class, Yutaka had once commented that they must something akin to rubbish bins rolling down a hill.

Yutaka... Shinji presumed the other boy must be dead, along with all of the other students from his school bar one. He wondered idly who won, how they'd looked in front of the camera that announced them winning, whether they wore the same glazed and blank expression each of the previous winners had worn. There wasn't anything he could do about it now (unless this was some continuation of the game).

Taking several cautionary steps forward, Shinji decided the first thing to do would be to find somewhere to claim as shelter - at least for the time being - and then work out what precisely was going on. Clearly, he couldn't trust anyone (but that had been a given before he'd woken here), and he needed to find out what his circumstances were, and how likely he was going to be killed by anyone he might encounter. The latter was the more pressing matter at hand.

Mar. 1st, 2008


Waking up is so hard to do...

Brigitte woke up with a scream. Another nightmare, another dream about her sister Ginger that ended horribly. For a few seconds she just sat on the pavement screaming before she could finally calm the fuck down. Even then the world wasn't silent as Brigitte heard her own heart beat like thunder in her ears and her own raspy breathing. Calm down! It was just a dream! she ordered herself. The teenager longed to say that it wasn't real but she couldn't. She had dreamed about Ginger's death and as much as it pained her, Ginger's death was a solid fact in her life.

Just as the fact that Brigitte was no longer at Happier Times Clinic. Like a wave memories of being abducted flooded her brain and she shut her eyes in a futile attempt to stop them from coming. Men in black suits grabbing her, shoving a needle in her arm and her body growing limp. Her eyes scanned the city, her mouth dropped open in shock. What the fuck was this shit? Who had taken her and why had they brought her here of all places? It was like something you'd see in the movies, some sort of spy flick which had Brigitte wondering: Where those guys with the government? "Too weird", Brigitte murmured as she climbed to her feet.

Feeling as dazed as she was confused, Brigitte started walking around and looking up at the buildings around her. One was huge with a neatly manicured lawn and as Brigitte drew closer she saw the words Ash Valley Hospital on a near by sign. "Ash Valley?" the werewolf read out loud, her tone clearly confused.

She wasn't in Happier times anymore and Brigitte strongly suspected she wasn't near Winnipeg either or Bailey Downs.

Brigitte also realized she wasn't alone any more either.



Waking up - Open to all players

A cool breeze blew over Patrick's face, causing him to scrunch head and become aware of his body once more. Moments ago it seemed he had been sitting at his desk, ignoring his work and now as Patrick opened his eyes he realized he had not fallen asleep at his desk. Not if his building had miraculously disappeared. The sky above him was cloudy with bits of blue peaking out as cold concrete pressed up against his back through his Valentino suit. My suit! How long had he been lying on the filthy ground?

The idea his appearance was less than perfect was more distressing then the fact that Patrick had no clue where he was to. In quick movements the young business man was on his feet and dusting himself off. "Do you have any idea how much this suit costs?" He muttered angrily to himself. Memories were starting to come back to him. Jean had been escorting men into his office, strangers clad in awful black suits. Patrick paused while brushing off his sleeve. "A needle", he muttered. The men in black had opened a case with red liquid filled needle and before Patrick could react to the strange scenario the men stuck him with the needle.

They were behind this, it was abundantly clear. Why they would have done this to him didn't cross his mind but Patrick was certain he was going to make them for the dry cleaning he would need. Then he noticed he wasn't alone. Another body laid on the ground, seemingly asleep. Patrick approached them carefully, absently noticing a scruff on his shoes before kicking the other person lightly.

"Wake up".