Olivia Jensen is on her way to ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ғᴀsᴛ (sprinted) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2017-01-24 22:40:00 |
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The corner store that they’d heard about had been a bust. Cleared out by scavengers before them, no doubt. Everything was always cleared out by other scavengers, Torrie thought, annoyed that she’d made a trek that far out and came back empty handed. So far the only bright spot of the day was the lack of mangy Dogs. She hadn’t seen or heard any of them, so at least that wouldn’t put another black mark on her frustrated mood. She’d thrown her rifle over her shoulder while she wound her way back through the streets, avoiding the few, slow walkers she’d seen. It wasn’t dark yet, because she wasn’t fucking stupid, so she saw just fine when someone darted between alleys. She saw just fine that the backpack they’d been wearing seemed pretty full, and nursing her annoyance, she decided that jumping a scout was almost consolation for not finding anything at the store. Torrie hugged the building until she reached the mouth of the alley, and just barely glanced down it to find that the scout was rested against the brick, taking a breather. It was a girl, at least ten years younger than Torrie herself, if she judged the age right. Easy pickings. Weighing her options, eventually Torrie took the direct approach and waltzed into the alleyway with as much bravado as she could scrounge up, and a mean scowl to her mouth. Without being big or threatening looking, there was only so many things she could use to her advantage. Carrying a rifle usually didn’t hurt, but she wasn’t going to aim it at the girl unless she had to. “Give me your backpack,” Torrie said, mean and angry, knife in one hand in case she’d found one that was going to be stupid. Her target had turned at the sound of footsteps, a look of alarm settling into something near-permanent and displeased onto her face. She grabbed instinctively onto the straps of her bag, pulling it tighter to her. Her eyes flickered to either side of Torrie, judging the space and distance, maybe, but there wasn't any more movement than that. When she spoke, the girl's voice was steady, if a bit loud and erring closer to shrill: "Like hell you're getting it." Growling under her breath, Torrie straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. She flipped her knife in her hand. It was the only fucking trick she knew, but it made her look like she knew what the hell she was doing with the switchblade; she had never actually stabbed anything other than a walker with it. “It’s not worth your life,” she spat back, lunging a little like she was going to make a grab for one of the straps with her free hand, but the girl pulled away in a side-step before she was within reach. The rifle on Torrie's back shifted with the movement. The easiest for the both of them would be if the girl just dropped the damn thing. There was something in her eyes though that made Torrie think it wasn’t going to be that easy. "That's my call, not yours." In the shuffle, the girl had managed to somehow angle herself with her back towards one of the alley openings, though she didn't give any indication that she was aware of her change in position. Her eyes remained locked on Torrie, alternating focus between her face and the knife in her hand. "You like killing?" she added, abruptly. "What's it like?" Thrown for a second by the question, Torrie narrowed her eyes again. “I don’t kill people,” she snarled. “I wouldn’t fucking kill you for the backpack.” There were at least a couple ways to gain the upper hand on someone without taking their life. People usually responded to a knife in their leg. Or in any non-vital organ, really. That she did know from experience. The girl narrowed her eyes, too, considering this. "So generous. So totally kind." Torrie flipped the knife again, with a stepped towards the scout. The girl had a clean exit, but she didn’t think that the girl had realized it. Her window to get her hand on whatever supplies the scout was closing quickly. “You don’t really want to find out if you end up being the fucking exception though,” she warned with another quick step, and the intention to slice the nylon of the strap with her blade. It was impatient, without any finesse, and no doubt telegraphed because Torrie wasn’t a professional by an stretch. The girl backed up again, narrowly avoiding the blade, but this time instead of only moving a few feet away, she backpedaled further to the alley's opening. A triumphant look appeared on her face as she took in the new, greater distance between the two of them, but she didn't want to risk Torrie getting ahold of that rifle on her back. There was only a brief moment of hesitation before she turned to run at full speed, backpack still in her possession. “Damnit!” Torrie cursed, taking a few long strides like she was going to follow the girl, but stopped short at the opening of the alley. Whatever was in the backpack wasn’t worth the trouble. She could probably find the same shit if she tried a few more places herself. |