Samuel took a hesitant step forward, winced, but then took another. Each step was easier until he didn't feel anything. His arm still hurt like all hell though, and moving too fast stung, but it doesn't seem he's too impaired movement wise. The conductor searched the gunshop for any kind of medicine, but it seemed pretty picked clean. Just empty boxes, the dead creature, the dead store owner, and empty display cases. There was also that large metal door, but it was closed tight and blocked by a keypad. Damn.
Samuel wasn't completely out of options though. He recalls the pharmacy a store up, wouldn't be that hard to get to, and it looked in pretty good condition. He could also try to just do some basic first aid at the expense of his clothes, isn't like they're aren't already ruined or something.
Harvey had similar luck with his search of Claudius' body. His pockets were empty, his hands were empty, really any conceivable spot one would store things was empty. All there was on him was the recorder from before, which was already taken, and the rifle. He must not of expected being out here for very long.
Not to give up on minor failures though, Harvey examined the large metal door to try to gain access to the room beyond it. He tried the handle, but it refused to budge. Another try, yet still it refused to budge. How annoying. The door was a solid piece of metal, with a slight indention where the handle was, and it was entirely lacking any keyhole or otherwise notable feature beyond the handle. Its frame was similarly metal, but actually held something of interest. A keypad was faintly lit, displaying a full arrange of numbers and letters, and a small bar blinked faintly in its display, waiting for input.
Randall handled the comm again, tapping into the public frequency amongst the six.
"P-Please tell me that you didn't waste another shot on t-the thing." It was less a question and more of a statement, considering he heard the gunshot just moments ago.
No response came from the two though. No more gunshots barked their painful retort outside either.
"So, how much longer do we have to wait on them? Can't you just open the door now, and let them come in when they damn well get around to it?" Wilmer broke the silence in his usual abrasive manner.
Freddie turned to Frogdo, relaying his plan to his companion.
"Right, so I think the night cycle might happen soon, so we better get back to the shelter. At least this day wasn't totally unproductive, eh, dude?"
Frogdo was silent however. He must be those guys who keep silent when they agree or something, as he followed Freddie never-the-less. The pair left the building and were back into the light. Nothing was there to greet them, just the same derelict cars and ruined streets. The two pointed their maps in the direction of the bunker and headed off, wanting to catch the ride back with the others back in before its night.
"Waaaaait! Hey! Wait up! Please, I need some help!"
They were about a third of the way there before they heard someone yelling after them, coming from their right-ish from the sounds of it. He was about a short ways off, wouldn't be too long before he caught up with them it seems like. Looks like a survivor from the looks of it, a man dressed in a business suit and clutching onto a briefcase.
Strange thing though, the two could only hear his voice. The man was practically stomping on the ground and breathing heavily as he ran after the two, yet no sound. No clomping footsteps, no heavy puff of breathing, his voice didn't even sound like he was currently running full-tilt either. Both Freddie and Frogdo also not something odd about his appearance. Around the edges of his figure, the two noticed that he had a slight glowing haze, almost unnoticeable in the dipping sunlight.
[I figure that Xant would want Frogdo to follow Freddie. If not, can just retcon him as having stayed.]
Marion could only eye the train doubtfully at its appalling condition. It doesn't look like it would be very useful at all! The detective whirled on her heels and started back the way she came, not seeing any need to waste her time. Unproductively, at least, as she decides that maybe the maintenance closet might be worth checking out.
She gripped the handle of the door and opened it, a slow affair due to poorly set hinges that caused it to grind against something as she opened it further. It was utterly thrashed inside, chunks of wood littering the floor and half destroyed shelving lining the walls. Much of whatever might of been in there was destroyed by something, but oddly didn't look like it was searched much, if at all!
Didn't take long to go through it all, there was a good bit of stuff, but most of it broke sadly. In all there was:
- A usable sledge with a sturdy black handle in the corner, looking like it could put a nasty hit on whoever was on the wrong end.
- Nails scattered around and an upturned nail box, says there are fifty in total but Marion could only find about twenty of them, thirty if you count the ones that were bent beyond use.
- A small prybar, a bit too small for proper use in combat but might help in a pinch. That's not even counting is uses in opening things though.
- A half a roll of duct tape. Well, this is a maintenance closet after all.
- Sturdy work gloves, obviously used but they don't seem that horrible.
Name: Freddie Firenzo
Gender: Male
Attribute: Inspiration (1)
Short Description: a somewhat small man, balding, wears glasses and possesses a pencil mustache. Covers up encroaching baldness with a clearly stolen trilby and hides rather unimposing physique behind a somewhat oversized pastel blue tuxedo.
Short Biography: despite the rather dire nature of the situation, Freddie is quite glad, all in all, that whatever happened happened. He was in the middle of contemplating suicide when the sirens came, trying to decide upon a good method to carry out a deed. However, evacuation put a stop to that kind of thinking, and Freddie rather appreciates the circumstances due to this. Why, he could make off with an entire tuxedo and hat in the chaos, and nobody noticed. For him, this whole apocalypse thing is kind of a definite improvement, really. Certainly an opportunity to reinvent himself, find some sort of track to get his life onto at last.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
Metal Club,
Metal Spike,
Cracked Headlight,
7 Dual-Torches,
Oil Canister,
Lighter,
Credit Unions,
2 Rations,
Memory Stick
Name: Frogdo Badtirigidon
Gender: Male
Attribute: IRONMAN (0)
Short Description: He's a short dude with curly brown hair, spiky stubble, and heterochromatic eyes - blue and brown.
Short Bio: Maaaaaan, he was a dude who came from the streets, maaaaan, and he was angry and resentful and stuff, maaaaan. He's a survivor because he, like, KNOWS da streetz, maaaaan.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
Metal Club
Poll
0 (0%)
Author
Topic: Survival At Its Finest: Waking Up From Sleep Mode (Q&A) (Read 61796 times)