[IC Thread] The World of Ash

[ValidEmotions]

Jasmine caught the concern in Jovah's directed gaze, slowly starting to grow indignant. She didn't show any ill response though as she understood where his worry rose from and she faintly wondered if she should just finish the rest of her stay in Winterbury before moving on to the next little town by herself. When he started leaving, the bard shook her head and pressed her lips into a firm line of stubborn finality. She was traveling with them, regarded as an incapable individual or not. The shadow of defiance began to rise at the back of her mind, an urge to prove her abilities accompanying it.

 

”We're heading north through the forests until we pass Pacifica. Going to move through Sweeney Ridge and head in to the San Bruno suburb from there. Bypass San Mateo completely and we'll avoid any packies trying to keep scavs from Belmont and Redwood from moving north.”

 

Mentally drawing their route by what Jovah stated, she didn't disagree with the intent and decided it would be a better path to follow compared to some others. Glancing at the other women, Jasmine partially intended to catch their eyes, wondering what their thoughts were. A moment passed and she paused, looking back towards Matthias, Rune, and Indigo. Perhaps they would catch up later? She certainly hoped they would; they, too, wanted to travel to San Francisco.

 

Turning her attention back to those who were leaving, she faintly picked up her pace in order to close the few-yards gap between her and the others.

---

 

Gorf barked again, ears flattening at the sound of the large truck. Levi looked over his shoulder, idly moving towards the side as the guards headed out of Winterbury on the plower. When they drove by, the man smiled broadly and waved, head tilted slightly towards the right so that he could see them better with his single eye. "Com'on boy. Where do you think we should go today? We'll be walking through the forest in most of the possible directions so, it'd be a good idea to have a decided path before getting turned around." Of course, for Levi, that was nearly impossible. The man was apt at deciphering geological directions and hardly ever became lost save for a few times when feverish or in a completely new area.

 

Together, they made their way to the forest and stopped a shy bit past the tree line. The command was wordless, given by barely any gesture, but the German Shepherd knew it perfectly: Hide and guard. While the dog concealed himself in a nearby location, Levi climbed one of the trees and sat within the higher branches where he tucked himself in the dip of two sturdy limbs. Frost covered pine needles hid most of him from sight as he withdrew his map from his bag. If one asked why he took such precautions, he would honestly admit that it wasn't precaution; merely, it was preference. The tall man loved high vantage points; he enjoyed having an upper hand on any opponent that might come around. The point was that he could see what was going on while no one could see him because, really, how many people looked up unless something above caught their attention?

 

Below, the man's canine companion had squeezed himself under a bit of shrubbery, managing to find a slightly larger batch some yards away from where Levi had placed himself. Gorf had his belly pressed firmly against the frozen ground, fur itching from the prickly branches and whatever shriveled leaves it still possessed. The man only really had the Shepherd hide in order to make sure the hound wasn't found by unwanted gazes. No doubt, it wasn't necessary but the man felt better for it and the dog could only oblige in the command.

 

[[been awhile since I've RP'd for a dog. Give me a couple more posts and it'll probably turn out better with Gorf's parts.]]

[Mistress of Whispers]

Alice listened to the white-clad man speak about a 'satellite' and her brow wrinkled slightly. She didn't know what a satellite was, nor why it would be valuable. Perhaps it was a large bomb, since the man implicated that it had generated a fireball? She was more than a little confused by the concept, but in the end it mattered not. She had enough food, medicine and ammunition to last her a some time, and her main reason for joining the expedition was... Well, to be honest, she wasn't entirely certain what her reason for joining was. But since it wasn't to look for supplies, she would be happy to help these people find their 'satellite'.

 

Her frown deepened when the man continued with his speech and declared himself Sergeant though. She might not know what a 'satellite' was, but she was familiar with 'Sergeant'. Alice hadn't taken orders from people in a long time and she was not about to start now. So far, his only command had been reasonable and one that she had already committed to; not to attack the others in the group; but it was the principle that mattered: she had fought hard to make her life her own and she would not relinquish her sovereignty. "I will not attack any of you, unless you attack first, and I will help you retrieve this satellite. But I am not your soldier." Her voice held no challenge or rebuke; it was simply a statement of fact: her actions were her own.

 

Alice didn't wait to see if the man accepted that. There was safety in numbers and they could at least make their way into the city together; if the white man wanted her to be an obedient soldier, they could go their separate ways once inside. Cities, while highly dangerous, were good places to find old caches of weapons, medicine or technology for trade and Alice could scout for those while the rest went for the 'satellite'. She glanced at the other two women and noticed that both of them were a little rankled, too, though she wasn't sure if it was because the man had declared himself Sergeant or for another reason. Perhaps one of them would join her, if the white-clad man sent her away?

 

Pulling up her hood against the ash that slowly spiralled down from the air, she set out towards the direction the white-clad man had indicated. While she had deliberately sought out Winterbury and had stayed there for more than a week out of her own volition, she felt relieved to be outside the gates again. The village seemed stifling and claustrophobic compared to the large, white world that she had become, against all odds, accustomed to. She noted the large path that Winterbury's guard had cleared. Perhaps they were preparing for an incoming trade caravan, but she was aware that it could also be to make the way for an outgoing military expedition. Perhaps the white-clad man and his women weren't the only ones looking for this 'satellite'?

Edited May 24, 2013 by Mistress of Whispers

[Arctic]

Jovah walked in long strides and the trio of women followed behind. He coughed in to his gloved fist, shrugging past a guard stationed at the front gate, and paused only when wolf-coat spoke up. He stood still for a moment, then turned his body to face her, boots scraping on the frosted gravel below. He stared at her knowingly, eyes tired and somewhat resigned, a frown painted to match. There was an almost uncomfortable silence for a few seconds before he simply sighed, shook his head, turned back forward and continued down the gravel roadway to where it met the ancient asphalt.

 

Whipping winds lapped as his hair as he moved, blowing a few wiry strands about his face. Once the group had reached the bottom of the hillside, Jovah took a look over his shoulder and then took a left, heading down the freshly cleared path that the truck had left in its wake. ”Don't rightly know what your name is,” Jovah spoke gruffly once they were on their way down the street. ”But you keep in mind that you came up to me. You're not any soldier of mine, yeah, but I expect you'll follow my rules so long as you're following behind me. Do me the courtesy of doing what I tell you. Not because I know what I'm talking about, but because I know where we're going. If we don't got coordination, we're just a group of curious sightseers.” Jovah stopped again, turning to face her. ”Sightseers tend to end up bloodied and bruised. Anyway, you're free to “lead” if you've got that much of a problem with it, but, hey. Learn to let go. Listening ta' someone doesn't mean you're a slave.” He shot a small glance to the redheaded woman, then turned back forward and started to walk.

 

He slung his rifle around, speaking as he did so. ”Suppose we should all introduce ourselves, yeah? My name's Jovah. I'm, oh, I don't know. Thirty, let's say.” He coughed again, tugging a magazine from one of his vest pouches and blowing some snow from it. ”I've been rooting through these ruins for approaching fifteen years.” He fitted the magazine in to the slot in the rifle, pushed it in with a loud 'click' and racked the bolt. Jovah held the rifle against his chest as he walked, keeping his finger off the trigger.

 

The fog continued to engulf the group as they walked down the road, the sheer incline on their right gradually beginning to even out. Wind whipped around them, carrying a mixture of smoke, ash and flakes of frost with it. As they went west, the smell of the soured, salty sea began to mix in to the air, but only in the slightest amounts - they were a good distance away, after all.

Edited May 25, 2013 by Arctic

[Mistress of Whispers]

Alice returned the man's gaze levelly. He wore an expression that she did not comprehend, but that did not disturb her. She knew the look that people got when they were planning to ambush or betray her and this wasn't it: that was all that mattered to her. She cocked her head slightly to the side as she contemplated his request.

 

He was right to a certain point: she had come to him. Well, she had come to the group, but he appeared to be their leader. She wasn't sure why she had done that. She felt as if she were searching for something, but she didn't know what; it wasn't a 'satellite', she knew that much, and it wasn't someone to blindly obey, either. Nevertheless, his request was reasonable and offered her enough recourse. "I will listen while I follow you. I will say when I disagree and I will say if I decide to no longer follow." It was the best she could give him: Alice had a peculiar sense of honesty and any greater commitment than she had just given, would require a lie.

 

Slinging her crossbow down from her shoulder, she slipped five bolts onto the attach quiver. She worked slowly, more slowly than strictly necessary, so the others could see what she was doing and know she did not plan to attack. It was a good weapon: Alice was an almost perfect shot with it, it was silent and, thanks to the attach quiver, it was quick. It wasn't as quick as her revolver, but the gun had the significant drawback of alerting everyone in the area to her presence. She didn't need to reload the revolver: the only time it was unloaded, was when she cleaned it and the guards of Winterbury had never seen the weapon under her coat.

 

She paused when he mentioned his age. Around thirty? In this land of snow and ice, it was hard to keep track of seasons and thirty years were a lot of moon-cycles to count. Certainly he hadn't counted them himself when he was young; that meant someone had cared enough to count the moons for him as a child. She felt a stab of an unfamiliar emotion, but ignored it. Instead, she answered his question: "My name is Alice." The name rolled off her tongue uneasily: she could probably count the number of times that people had addressed her by her name, let alone asked for it; she could have told him it was Adrienne, or Susan, or Mary and it would have meant the same to her. But Alice was what people called her, so Alice was the name she carried.

 

The wind carried with it a faint scent reminding her of her birthplace, but it passed quickly and she did not relish the memories. It didn't matter anyway: that was behind her. Silently she moved on, pausing only once more, to put on her snowshoes for ease of movement. Between the white wolf-coat fading into the snowy background and the deadly silence her crossbow carried, she was a ghost in an already dead world.

Edited May 25, 2013 by Mistress of Whispers

[Limitless]

Red gave a very soft huff and shook her head disbelievingly when the new woman - Alice - challenged Jovah. She was definitely an interesting one. She watched Jovah carefully as he replied to Alice, eyes roving over his face, focusing on his own eyes, and she blinked in surprise when he gave her a look before walking again. Tired, yes, resigned, yes, but she wondered if that was worry also in his eyes. She couldn't blame him: he was taking three complete strangers into arguably one of the most dangerous places in the area. Red wasn't entirely sure, but wondered.

 

Looking at the other woman, Red gave a slight shrug and decided it was her turn.

 

"My name is Red. I've been wandering for long enough to know better 'n to share such a thing on the first date." Her haughtiness from earlier seemed to have vanished for the most part, and she seemed much more comfortable now that the group was on the move. "To be honest, I'm actually not entirely sure how old I am. But, when we could die at any second, I don't know that it matters all that much." A musing smile overtook her features, and Red fell silent.

 

The others were checking and preparing their weapons. Red gave her staff a cursory glance, knowing full well that it was fine, then paused for a moment to check over her rifle. It was as she had left it, and she smiled, setting it back in its place before switching her green beanie for a different hat, one that was pale and provided better camouflage for her hair. She took a moment, stretching the opening and holding it near the base of her neck with one hand, tucking the ends of her hair into it, then slowly working it up over her head, making sure all of her hair was covered before nodding and moving on again. Some of it was likely to force its way back out, but that could be dealt with.

[ValidEmotions]

Faintly challenging remarks, a response that made a point, and introductions passed between the other three, leaving Jasmine to listen and absorb what was being said before speaking herself. "I'm Jasmine and I have been a traveling bard since I was young. I used to share music and stories to others with my mother but I've been on my own for maybe six years." It wasn't as much time as Jovah had but it had to count for something, right? If she couldn't care for herself, she would have settled in a town years ago or died from one of several causes.

 

Fog had closed around them, making visibility a somewhat hard thing to have and forced her to rely more on sound. There wasn't much to hear nor was there much she could hear. The sound of footsteps crunching snow only ever reached so far and her ears weren't trained so well to pick up on fabric rustling against fabric. Still, the bard was at ease and only rested her hand against her crossbow as the others seemed to prep or inspect their own weapons. It was caution, not necessarily the approach of an enemy or possible threat, that no doubt caused the preliminary steps. Jasmine understood this but she couldn't stop the frown that turned the corners of her lips downwards.

 

She remembered something her mother had once said, that the world hadn't always been so cruel. Certainly, there were dark hearted people but that was expected. In order for there to be good, there also had to be some evil around. It was a balance like there was between light and dark. Everything has a positive and negative side, balancing the world. She wondered, though, if that were really true. Was it possible for balance to be tipped to the positive or negative side? If it was true, then wouldn't the world be in a better state than it was today? The world is so violent and hateful. No one truly cares about the person beside them anymore...

 

Looking up from her feet, she glanced at the other three. Maybe there were more people than she knew who did care for at least one other person besides themselves, if provided with the opportunity to do so. Adjusting the scarf over her mouth and nose, she brushed off whatever ash had fallen atop her hair and quickly flicked her hood over to cover it.

[Arctic]

The frost crunched under their feet, barely audible over the smoke-singed wind whistling between pines trees, through the malformed cracks in desiccated cars and up the occasional small, rocky ledge that jutted up through the snow. In the years following the nuclear holocaust, earthquakes had plagued California, erupting all over the San Andreas fault line. They continued for years and even in modernity occasionally shoot the earth. Buildings had collapsed in and around San Francisco, small fissures had opened and streets had been torn asunder. The very cliff that Winterbury was built against is said by some to have risen from an earthquake, but the cave and bunker imply otherwise. To say the least, navigating the forest was sometimes an arduous task. There were more than a few cracks in the earth that could swallow up a haphazard, careless wanderer, and several plates of solid rock that had risen up through the snow.

 

After a few minutes walk, the group had reached a curve in the road – the first of many that gradually tapered off to the left, leading down to Half Moon Bay. It was at this point that Jovah rounded an old, rusted car that stood at the side of the road and stood solemnly at the ancient, twisted guardrail meant to keep old world vehicles from careening down the incline on the other side. The metal had worn away here, and a discrete trail in the snow implied that none too few animals and people alike used this as a means to get to or down from the road. Jovah glanced over his shoulder. “Sweeney Ridge should be about an hour's walk from here.” He coughed in to his sleeve, then cleared his throat. “After that, who knows. We'll try to crack open the city along with every other curious scavver.” He half-walked, half-slid down the considerably steep incline, now walking northwards through forest and fields. After a couple moments of silence, he looked back to Jasmine. “You're pretty good on a flute, by the way. Have experience with any other instruments?”

 

Jovah looked back ahead after he had spoken, continuing to walk. The terrain was rather hilly, and it was simple to get lost - they rose up hills, navigated down slopes and avoided the occasional rocky mound that risked a broken leg from some unseen stone covered by snow. The scavenger would occasionally stop and look around, as if trying to pick out a landmark of some sort in the deafening fog. The man would always look behind him at the trail they left, ensuring that it was straight, but the tracks faded quickly in the unforgiving wind. The pines surrounding them were for the most part green and lush, enjoying the eternally cold weather, but half-buried in the snow was the occasional tree that had been overturned. Some were ancient and made of ratty wood, though some were fresh and simply could not hold up to the coastal winds that rolled over the hillsides.

Edited May 29, 2013 by Arctic

[Mistress of Whispers]

Back in her element, Alice moved with confidence. Alternately keeping close to the group and scouting a little ahead for signs of danger on their path, she was only faintly aware of the conversation between Jovah and the Bard; they were not a threat (at the moment) and therefore only of passing interest to her. The wind picked up and Alice pulled her goggles over her eyes to keep out the stinging mixture of ash and snow. She inhaled deeply and looked up at the obscured sky, snow drifting inside her hood and clinging to her hair.

 

For a moment, it felt as if she were alone again and she exhaled, tension rolling off her shoulders; she had forgotten how hard it was to be with other people and their words. Still, she was hear now and by choice: she could make an effort to fit in. Heading back to the group, she stuck closer by this time and paid more attention to the conversation around her even as she kept a vigilant watch over their surroundings.

 

 

[ValidEmotions]

As Jovah mentioned the estimated time to Sweeney Ridge, Jasmine paused briefly to examine the incline they were to travel down. She wasn't afraid of heights but she was cautious about not falling. Quickly finding an initial foothold, she eased her unsteady descent by lightly streaking the fingers of her right hand through the snow behind her. It helped keep her from sliding down faster than desired. When the ground began to level out, she stood straighter and idly brushed the snow off her glove, resuming the set pace of their group.

 

“You're pretty good on a flute, by the way. Have experience with any other instruments?”

 

The bard smiled at the complement and slightly tugged down her scarf so that her voice wasn't muffled. "Thank you. My mother taught me what she knew and I've continued to learn since. I have some experience with the violin from before I had my flute but I haven't been able to play it in some time. I lost my mother's violin awhile back during one of my trips." Mentioning it brought back the guilt she felt but she had to push it away. "Have you been into the city before? It seems like you have or, at least, tried to gain entry."

---

 

Gorf's ears twitched, dark eyes blinking away a layer of frost as the dog opened them. His breath misted in the frozen air as he scented the winds, picking up ash and maybe something else. A moment later, the dog was certain that he heard voices. It would be a few minutes later when Levi picked up the muffled sounds, the wind carrying away the words before he could possibly try to make them out. Remaining still, the man shifted the entirety of his attention to the group below. A wide smile spread across his lips as he gently folded up his map and carefully stuffed it into his travel bag.

 

For the first few heartbeats, he listened as best he could, trying to figure out how many there were in this group by the number of crunching footsteps he could pick up (which was to say, hardly anything) and the various voices that spoke. He could only gather two were speaking but, that didn't mean there weren't others. Though, at best, he could only guess at a minimum of two individuals. However... One voice did sound familiar. Where had he heard i- Ah! Of course! Now he knew who the group was. Well, he knew their faces but nothing about them like their names.

 

"How interesting! Could you calculate the chances of us following similar paths?" Levi spoke first, his voice maybe a shade louder than necessary to be heard by the four traveling beneath. He showed himself second, visor down to protect his remaining eye from the ashen wind as he shifted some of the pine branches out of his way. "By the way, did I hear that someone was a bard? Quite the unique trade. Don't see very many of that occupation around lately. It's practically like folk lore! Taught by speech to the next generation but dying too quickly to share with enough people to continue it! Such a shame really..."

 

Quickly climbing down from his temporary place of hiding, Laviendor's grin was friendly, his body language very at ease. "I'm Laviendor Cristobal but you can call me Levi for short. Or Patch - for obvious reasons," He briefly shifted his visor up to reveal his eye patch before perching the visor on his nose again. "Some have even chosen to call me Stickler but I'm not certain about why. No matter. Where are you heading to, friends? I'm going wherever the wind feels like going or whichever comes to my mind first." He was closest to a woman with light brown hair who stood more at the front of the group. It was of no concern to him but Levi knew that it was the tall man in white that was leading the four.

 

In the brief pause it would take for anyone to respond, Laviendor placed the tips of his forefinger and thumb lightly between his lips and whistled once; short and mild in volume. Gorf scrambled to his paws, slipping out from under the thick shrubs, and hurried to his person's side. The German Shepherd stared at the strangers, ignoring the ash that quickly covered his nose until it made him sneeze.

 

[[|D Such an odd pair for me to write. I'm not used to Levi's personality... Ah well, I'll adjust quickly enough.]]

Edited June 7, 2013 by Narvix

[Arctic]

A particularly powerful gust of wind blew through the small valley they were walking through, sweeping down a slope to their left and carrying the distinct sour, salty smell of the sea with it. Snow was picked up on the powerful zephyr, blowing and swirling about the feet of the four travelers who plodded through the wintery fields. The dancing shapes of pine trees stood barely visible in the foggy air, sometimes appearing one at a time or sometimes coming in small group as they walked. It wasn't long before they came upon a bank of thick, gray, packed ash pushed in to the snow on the incline to their left – Jovah gazed at it for a few moments, took some beneath his fingers and rubbed them together. The fine powder dissolved in to the air and left his skin streaked with black. He grunted, stood and continued to walk, finally replying to the bard after a minute's worth of silence to investigate.

 

“Found a violin once. Shattered to all hell. Travesty, that was,” the scavenger mumbled under his breath. He coughed once, cleared his throat and inhaled, speaking up more loudly. Even when they stood only feet apart, his voice was difficult to make up in the ever-worsening roar of the windstorm. It was as if the storm from the previous night had decided to make another pass over them, though all indication of rain, sleet and hail was gone now. “I've been in the city, yeah. Once. I found a way through the wall and ended up in a dilapidated plaza full of skeletons in these ancient, black plastic bags. There was no way out but the way I came. Lots of collapsed buildings. Wasn't fun, almost lost my life on the way out. Thinkin' we might try the subway this time if nobody's opposed. I know for sure there are some scavenger outposts down there where we could stock up.” He coughed again, catching a glimmer of one thing or another up near the top of a tree. He immediately froze and began to raise his rifle when the voice caught his ears.

 

"How interesting! Could you calculate the chances of us following similar paths?"

 

Jovah kept his rifle half-raised, glowering up at the man and squinting, trying to make out his figure behind the array of pine branches that almost completely covered him. He could only barely make out his voice over the storm – what he said, though, he couldn't be sure. Something about crossing paths. The man seemed alone, and what he was doing in a tree was anyone's guess. Fortunately, he seemed friendly, as not more than a few seconds later he shifted the branches out of the way to reveal himself, then spoke up some more. Jovah recognized him. The man who had left before them and headed directly northwards towards the city. That means they had been drifting to the right as they moved, or perhaps the man took a sharp left at some point.

 

He said something else about bards, but Jovah had no comment for that – just a grunt. He lowered the rifle more fully as the, well... eccentric, to say the least, man scaled down the tree and plodded down the small embankment towards them. He stood now at a distance where he could actually be understood – by Jovah, at least – over the roaring wind. "I'm Laviendor Cristobal but you can call me Levi for short. Or Patch - for obvious reasons," the man said. Interesting name, Jovah thought. Beyond that, he was more disillusioned than anything; such a strange man in the middle of nowhere. "Some have even chosen to call me Stickler but I'm not certain about why. No matter. Where are you heading to, friends? I'm going wherever the wind feels like going or whichever comes to my mind first."

 

The scavenger looked around briefly, then spoke up after a moment's worth of silence, lowering his rifle more fully. “Heading for the city,” the response was simple and rough. There was a fair amount of distrust in the white-clad man's voice.

[Mistress of Whispers]

Alice half-listened to the conversation between Jovah and Jasmine as they navigated the snowy slopes. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the pines even if some of them were stunted and small. Picking up a lone, abandoned pine cone from the snow, Alice pocketed it for later; she liked the way they popped and released their scent if thrown into a fire.

 

While Alice didn't know what a 'violin' was, she did know music and she briefly glanced down at the small radio hanging from her belt. Most of the time it picked up static and, very rarely, wireless transmissions, but she clearly remembered the one time it had picked up music. Passing a large city, the radio has started to crackle before emitting barely audible music. The beauty of it had been such that Alice had ventured into the abandoned buildings to search for the origin of the sound, but she had never been able to find it. Nevertheless, the experience had had great impact on her, for it was one of the very few times she had felt solace in the world of white. Alice almost turned to the Bard to tell her this, but the prospect of putting words to her thoughts was too daunting and she abandoned the intent.

 

Coming into view of more pines, the hairs at the back of Alice's neck started to rise. Something was off about one of them, though she couldn't pinpoint what it was. Did the branches hang deeper on that one than on the other trees? She wasn't the only one to notice, either, as she caught Jovah raising his rifle from the corner of her eye. She raised her own crossbow and then a voice spoke: "... interesting! Could you ... us following similar paths?" And then a man started climbing down from the pine she had noticed just moments before.

 

Even as she kept her crossbow firmly trained on tree-man, Alice took in his appearance. He was attractive to her, with his red hair and single green eye, but this would not stop her from putting an arrow through his chest. Still from the corner of her eye, she saw Jovah lower his rifle and Alice carefully stepped back from the group so she wouldn't be within easy reach. Did Jovah know this man? Had he lured them into a trap? Were they raiders or slavers working together? Years of betrayal and distrust reared their ugly head and it was all Alice could do not to take aim on Jovah too. Then the dog stepped forward from under the bushes. It was a large animal, clearly capable of fighting and even killing. Adrenaline pumping through her veins from Jovah's imagined possible betrayal and the very real threat of the man and his dog, Alice kept her aim on tree-man's chest. She didn't squeeze the trigger, but she was ready to at the first sign of trouble.

Edited June 2, 2013 by Mistress of Whispers

[Limitless]

Red walked silently, eyes roving over what she could see of the land. Jovah and the bard, Jasmine, were discussing her instrument. A flute. As she had arrived in town not too long before they left, Red had missed hearing the woman play. A shame, she thought to herself. She enjoyed music. Flutes, if played correctly, could produce wonderful music. In the hands of those inexperienced, well... She gave a small laugh, remembering a town she had been in where the bard in residence was just learning his trade, and the men had chased him out of the bar for his chirping and wailing.

 

Keeping an ear open, Red's eyebrows shot up slightly when she heard mention of a violin. Unbidden, memories flowed to her mind of her own childhood experiences with that family of instrument. Her eyes darkened and she gripped her bottom lip between her teeth. Not something she wanted to remember at this moment. However, it had made her start to think more about the music she had heard in her life. Good, bad, sad... Rarely had she heard happy or up-beat music in her travels. Most often, she came across people lifting their voices together to try and find the strength to get through another day.

 

Singing. The thought of this soothed her, and she wondered briefly if Jasmine sang. The sounds created by people vocalizing together had always fascinated her - even more than this was how such a simple thing could inspire so much in the people who sang. She smiled, now remembering all the times she'd come across people and places that could go under or vanish at any time, people that gathered by the light of any small fire and sang small together, then had a renewed will to live and struggle. Always curious but feeling like an outsider, Red simply watched and listened, waiting for someone to invite her to join the song. Few people had, so used to their own little circles, but she'd never forget the times she had been included. Red smiled, inclining her head slightly. Perhaps this could be such a group.

 

Red snapped out of her reverie when she realized that Jovah and the others had stopped. A split second later, a voice rang out, and a man practically dropped from a tree. Red had already shifted into a defensive position, staff held across her body, and watched him warily as he kept talking. She quickly decided that Jovah must not know him, based on how long he had kept his rifle up and how the man - Lavender, she thought she heard - had to introduce himself. She sniffed, snorting again as a wayward piece of ash went up her nose, and relaxed her guard slightly, looking to her other companions. Alice still had her guard up, and Red wondered if she had been betrayed, too. It was likely. Looking back to Lavender, she recognized him. The man from the city, the other redhead. Looking over him, she saw that he was rather well off. Her raised staff would have done little against his rifle, which she looked over admiringly. Her staff went back up, into one hand, and she started to reach for her own gun when he whistled, but he was only calling to his dog. She sniffed. Red had never been fond of dogs. Foolish animals, she thought them, to be so loyal and unquestioning to their masters. But, they had their uses.

 

She looked over Lavender again. He spoke too much, a trait she'd never been incredibly tolerant of. Part of her hoped against his joining the group, but Red knew that with his armaments he could be a good addition. No matter what the decision, she could cope.

Edited June 7, 2013 by Limitless

[ValidEmotions]

[[Lim, Levi's hair is covered. He's wearing a bandana made from a wolf's pelt but there are a few strands fallen free.]]

 

"Ah! You don't trust me! Such a common reaction to anyone from anyone these days. So unfortunate! Oh well. It doesn't bother me." Laviendor continued to smile despite the distrust in the other man's voice and the guarded stances taken by three of the four. "Heading for the city! Quite bold, I'll say, and it sounds like fun!" He shifted his gaze from the white-clad man to each woman with him. They were so guarded it made him wonder why they formed a group when mere strangers to one another.

 

"I'm Jasmine." The one who didn't seem so untrusting of him. The bard quickly glanced between Jovah, Alice, and Red. There were many reasons not to trust someone, sure, but why did people have to show such hostility from the start? Was it something about being outside a town's gates or was it a typical response even in safe regions? She watched people and their behaviors on some occasions, noting several personalities with one or both common traits: depression (or something similar) and detachment. With detachment, there tended to be distrust towards those around. What turned everyone against each other? The question didn't extend to just people living in this ashen world - it extended to before the war as well. However, that question didn't seem to have an answer.

 

"I've heard a tale about some hardy, flowering vine called Jasmine. It was quite interesting but no doubt full of folly. Yet, there might still be some truth to it!" The man, Laviendor, was speaking again, hands lightly motioning as if to emphasize his words. His dog, unlike his owner who kept his respectful distance, had moved closer. It went to Alice first, tail held out as it sniffed at her, a few inches away out of wariness. For a brief moment, the man seemed to paused, almost as if he was giving the four a chance to say anything they desired before looking over at his dog.

 

"Oh, Gorf! Do have some manners, please. It's not polite to stick your nose at someone unless they've invited you to do so." Levi knew it was the dog's natural way to learn about things and, normally, he wouldn't care. The difference was, however, that these people were on edge and he did not want one of them to misjudge what his dog was doing and possibly hurt the canine out of such misjudgment. The German Shepherd turned away from the woman with light brown hair and returned to the man's side. "Good boy. Now, you lot are headed to the City, yes? I'm wondering, are you curious about the object that fell during the night as well? Some people in Winterbury were talking about it early this morning so it's no doubt you've heard some story or two as well. I've got my own curiosities but I doubt it'll be going anywhere any second soon so, really, what's the rush in getting to the city as soon as possible? Still, it'll be interesting to see what sorts of people this strange object has lured out of their homes."

Edited June 7, 2013 by Narvix

[Mistress of Whispers]

Alice's eyes narrowed as the dog approached her, though she never took her aim off Laviendor. If the animal did attack, it would be because it master told it to, so it was only fair that its master receive her arrow in return. And perhaps, some small part of her balked at inflicting suffering on animals, though she quickly buried it under layers of hardened survival-instinct. Snow drifted down on her hands and the bow, covering both in a thin layer of white, but still she neither flinched nor shivered.

 

"Oh, Gorf! Do have some manners, please. It's not polite to stick your nose at someone unless they've invited you to do so."

 

With the dog retreating, Alice allowed herself a better look at it. It was well-fed, with a thick coat of fur and it seemed inquisitive rather than aggressive in nature. She had owned a horse once and had been rather fond of the animal, so the fact that tree-man - Laviendor, she corrected herself - obviously took good care of 'Gorf' was a point in his favour, albeit a small one; while she had never met a good man who mistreated his dog, she had met plenty of bad men who treated theirs well.

 

The man continued to speak, but Alice blocked him out. Instead, she focused on the sounds around her: the howling of the wind and, beyond that, the rustling of trees and shrubs and the scurrying of animals - all small; mice and birds mostly, perhaps a rabbit somewhere, but no other people unless they were exceptionally well hidden. Tree-man didn't seem to know any of the group either, which meant he was alone and if this was a trap, it was a very bad one.

 

Focusing on tree-man again, the first thing she noted was that he was still talking. He talked a lot, this one. It seemed daunting to Alice; the task of finding the right words to express her thoughts and stringing them together in a sentence was near-impossible for her, not to mention that it made her throat hurt. He didn't have a particularly melodic voice either, but she found there was a pleasant quality to it nonetheless; something oddly distracting and relaxing - though, casting a side-way glance at Red, she didn't think everyone in their group found the sound pleasant.

 

A single white snowflake landed on her cheek. It was almost soft in its coolness and for a moment she wondered how something that could be as beautiful as snow at sometimes, could also be so treacherous and deadly. Though perhaps, she mused in an uncharacteristic bout of reflection, beauty was in the eye of the beholder and it was up to each individual to find it. She looked down at Gorf again; the animal sat by its masters side with a carefree, even happy air. Looking up at Laviendor, she met his eye this time and sky-blue locked with emerald-green. She searched hard for malice and betrayal, feeling an almost instinctual need to affirm what she thought she knew about the world, but couldn't find either.

 

Steeling herself, she forced her finger off the crossbow's trigger. The small move was as taxing as if she had physically wrestled her hand away and the result was almost imperceptibly small: a hair's breadth of air now flowed between her skin and the smooth polymer of the trigger. Nevertheless, it was a small gesture of good faith on her part, even if only the most keen of eyes would actually detect it. She felt oddly empowered, perhaps even proud. I am more than what they made me.

 

Around them, snow continued to drift.

Edited June 10, 2013 by Mistress of Whispers

[Limitless]

Red exhaled, shifting her position. She kept defensive, ready for anything, but seemed more relaxed overall. His body language was not that of an aggressor, but one never knew. She rolled her eyes. He really did talk too much, and seemed to expect too much conversation from them. What were they supposed to do when he dropped out of a tree, welcome him into their midst? She thought not, but noticed how Jasmine had been the only one to not jump for a weapon when the man had appeared. A rarity, she thought to herself. The bard must not have been betrayed at any point of her life, however long that was. Must not have seen the pain and suffering Red had, brought on by strangers and those who had been trusted. Or perhaps she had and chose to let it go. Red decided to ask her about this later.

 

She let out a small laugh, barely a wisp of breath, when Lavender remarked on the kinds of people such an "event" as the fireball would bring. This was a point perhaps she and Lavender could agree upon, how interesting it was to watch the various kinds of people. Red reflected briefly on her newfound group, how unlikely it had been that they all would come together in a mostly peaceful manner and how unlikely it would be that they would remain so. Only time would tell.

 

Letting the man's voice fade from her attention, she looked at the dog again. He had been a foolish creature to venture so close to Alice, obviously not trained as well as he should have been, but his owner had hardly batted an eyelash. Red wasn't sure what to make of this. Was he really that cocky? Such an outlook could be dangerous for any group, any underatking. She hoped there was another, more serious side to him.

[Arctic]

"Aye. I don't trust you. 'Cause you've got a dog, a rifle and you can't seem to shut your mouth," Jovah replied, brow furrowed thoughtfully. His voice wasn't entirely hostile. It was more, well, warning in nature. "Not... always the best combination. Anyway, where we're heading's no concern of yours, but aye, we know about the crash. More interested in what the Blood Pack's doing in response to it. Tend not to be able to keep their noses out of any goings-on around here." Jovah paused to cough in to his sleeve. He then turned his body slightly, boots crunching the soft snow beneath him as his feet shifted position.

 

His eyes momentarily left Laviendor, focusing instead to the north, towards the hidden, nigh-impenetrable fortress that they marched towards. The scavenger stood still, as if staring past the fog. He sniffed once, then suddenly looked back to Laviendor, abandoning whatever he thought he had seen or heard. "Do me a favor. Keep yer voice down. For all our sakes." He nodded once and shifted position again. "Now, then. I'm afraid we've,” he accentuated this by motioning to the other three in his group, ”got places to get to. Best of luck.” Without a further word, Jovah began to march off, seemingly assuming that Alice, Red and Jasmine would follow behind. He checked over his gun as he walked, looking over his shoulder once or twice.

 

The wind had shifted south again, carrying with it the smell of fire and smoke. Distantly, though, it seemed there was some other sensation coming with it, and not a smell; a distant beat, so faint that only those with the keenest ears might have been able to pick up on it. It was moderate and steady, and as the wind picked up and slowed, it was more or less audible. Curious, to say the least. Jovah continued to march against the gust.

 

(( Not much, sorry, but should be enough to get the ball rolling. For some reason, I had it in my mind we were waiting for Limitless. Oops. Sorry, I'll pay closer attention. ))

[ValidEmotions]

Laviendor only smiled, tilting his head slightly to the right, as the man gave his dismissal. Similar to the white-clad man, he thought he was hearing something as well, some kind of beat. While the group of four headed passed, he glanced down at Gorf and snapped his fingers once, starting to walk. He followed the others at a slight distance, never falling back more than a yard or two but never drifting closer. Levi unholstered his rifle, checking the partially loaded magazine before clicking it back into place. From the belt slung across his torso, he slid free one of his three throwing knives, idly spinning it between his fingers.

 

Beside him, Gorf kept his ears perked, swiveling them to face this way and that. The thickness of snowflakes minimized visibility to a certain distance and the wind altered any sounds that were carried. It was something a scavenger got used to and those that adapted best tended to return with little bad luck. True, the unfavorable weather provided a challenge but Levi preferred to be faced with one.

 

Jasmine stayed quiet, not certain about how Jovah would respond to Laviendor following them. The bard admittedly felt as if she were on a different mound of ice from the other three. Everyone had their own experiences, their own hardships, and they had become the wary people that they were. Perhaps her life had been much simpler than most others but, she wasn't without her own troubles. The snow and ash covered land took its toll on anyone and everyone without favoring one person over another. It all boiled down to who could handle a situation better.

 

Glancing over her shoulder, she paused for a moment to watch Levi walk. He seemed entirely at ease, as if comfortable with the landscape. The man probably was. When he caught her watching, his grin widened and, when he caught up to her, ruffled the top of her hair briefly. Naturally, the bard was trapped between irritation, surprise, and calm wonder. Perhaps the world hadn't hardened everyone living in it. Some still managed to find reasons to smile instead of feeling depressed. Picking back up the steady stride, she absently fixed the ruffled bit of her hair.

 

[[Meh -.- Sorry. Not much of a qualitative/RP moving post; just sort of filler. Tired and really not able to focus well.]]

[Mistress of Whispers]

Alice didn't object when Laviendor fell in behind them; she had, against her better judgement, taken a liking to him; but she did fall back and to the side so she was behind the armed newcomer. When he started playing with one of his knives, her finger tightened on the trigger of her sleek polymer crossbow, but as he made no move to attack any of her companions, she refrained from aiming it.

 

Sighing quietly to herself, she studied the odd group she had fallen in with. Jovah she could trust to have her back, but she didn't much like him with his easy dismissal of them. Jasmine she liked, but probably couldn't trust to have her back considering the bard's seemingly pacifist stance. Red gave her pause, as the woman reminded her of herself in some moments, yet was completely different the next. And Laviendor - well she neither knew nor trusted him, though for some reason she did find herself liking her. She wondered if she might stay with any of them after they returned from their expedition to the City, but she also realized that wasn't the point. This wasn't about whether she liked or trusted them, or even if she could stay with them in the long run; the objective was to see if she could work with others, fit in, if only for a little while. She wanted to and had a lot riding on it, but she wasn't at all certain that she was capable of it. So this was her test: stay with the group through San Francisco and back, and then she'd see what happened next.

 

When Laviendor passed Jasmine and reached out to touch her, Alice tensed and brought up her crossbow to defend her female companion. She was already taking aim, when the newcomer ruffled the bard's hair and moved on. Alice remained standing for a while, crossbow still trained on the red-haired man, but as he made no further move against Jasmine and the bard herself didn't seem to mind being touched without permission, she slowly lowered the weapon and filed the encounter under 'odd indeed'.

 

Her nerves and senses hyper-tensed from the encounter, she picked up on the soft, distant beat on the wind. Drums? A machine? She couldn't place the sound, but she didn't like it.

[Arctic]

For the most part, the group walked in silence. Jovah looked over his shoulder once or twice, each time his eyes falling on Laviendor. It brought him some solace that Alice had managed to slink back to the rear of the group, no doubt to keep an eye on the man, but the scavenger still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong about him. In some harmless, innocent way, the redhead seemed almost deranged. That was a deceitful thought, however; nothing was harmless nor innocent. Even a lone child in the waste had the power to cause trouble, even death, to an unwary would-be do-gooder. Eventually, the small canyon they were walking through began to both even out and tip downwards. The high slopes on either side of them wittled down to soft ones and the trees began to thin out. Blackened husks stood all around them, of course, but the living ones only came in groups now; there were no independent woods occasionally braving the winds on their own.

 

As they finally stepped out from the ravine (if one could call it that), the winds returned. No longer having shelter from the coast, the gusts blew ash and snow against their faces. Jovah coughed and brought up the hem of his undershirt to cover his mouth and nose, squinting his eyes to keep any foul dust from finding its way in. The air stank of sulfur and stung with acidity; this was not the smell of San Francisco, it was the scent of the ocean and of another poor metropolis burned by nuclear fire, both brought in like passengers on some deathly train. They passed a rusted plate of scrap metal tilted downwards in the snow, somewhat propped above the white ground by rotten wooden supports buried beneath; it was a home. An old one, likely erected as temporary shelter just after the events of two hundred years before, now buried under ash and the snow that lay on top. Jovah slowed his stride to gaze at it, contemplating investigating, but he seemed to realize that digging it out would both consume whatever time they had and may not even produce anything valuable to them or their cause. He sped his stride again, moving forward.

 

The ground sloped down now. Jovah descended slowly, checking his footing to make sure it was solid beneath. It proved to be alright and he continued down, keeping his rifle half-raised with one hand just in case. At the bottom, his foot sunk in to the snow and produced a 'clack' as it hit the familiar sound of crumbling asphalt. He looked to either side of him; they were on a road now, only distinguishable by a flat, snowy plain that temporarily disrupted the otherwise evenly sloping snowbank down. The scavenger turned to the group, motioning to his left (their right). He didn't speak for several moments, the only sensations being the sound of the whipping wind, the scent of the sulfuric air and the numbness of the biting cold.

 

"Sweeney Ridge. This way." The words were simple and, without waiting for a response, he turned back and took a right, following the buried road eastward.

 

As they walked, the wind lulled. The whipping winds gave way to distant rhythm.

 

...ba-da-da-da-da-da... ba-da-da-da-da-da... ba-da-da-da-da-da, bom. Bom. Bom. Ba-da-da-da-da-da, bom...

 

War drums.

Edited July 26, 2013 by Arctic

[ValidEmotions]

Laviendor was not oblivious to the lighter-brown haired woman's movements. Her decision to fall back to the rear made him smirk calmly. They certainly didn't trust him, what with popping out of a tree outside of Winterbury, but it mattered not to him. Whether he earned their trust or not, only time would tell. For sure, set in his way of thinking, he wasn't going to give the group any reason not to trust him. The four would just have to accept his company or downright deny him the opportunity to travel with them.

 

As they traveled down the now-leveled path, the tall man kept an attentive watch on the ledges above. He preferred having a higher vantage point over his opponent. Which, consequently, meant that he was more on edge if there were greater chances of his opponents having the vantage point above him. This made Levi's body itch, subconsciously shifting his riffle to his other shoulder and tapping his unsheathed knife against his hip. Gorf could pick up the man's signs of unease and snorted faintly at a bit of drifting ash.

 

Once the pair of ledges fell away, Laviendor was able to breathe a bit easier. The wind picked up once more without the temporary reprieve, tossing ash about in the air. In response, he settled his broad visor over his eye and patch. To ward off the ash, he tugged up the collar to his coat and slightly ducked his head. Shortly after this point in their travel, Levi took note of the other man's attention focusing on an exposed bit of roofing from a lifetime all but forgotten. "Tempting, isn't it? To find out if anything worth the time is hidden beneath the snow and ash?" He spoke softly, sounding almost thoughtful as he neared the white-clad man. Unlike earlier, Levi stopped talking instead of continuing on, keeping his steady pace and evidently walking ahead until the other man sped up and resumed his place at the front.

 

Perhaps one wouldn't notice unless they were paying attention to the way Levi spoke or examined things. He was always fascinated with the past, wanting to take apart anything he found until he had worked an item down to its very core and learned all that he could from it. You could call him knowledge hungry or some other similar label and you wouldn't be off from the mark. He craved learning, always seeming to be starved of education be it taught by another human or by the world surrounding.

 

"Sweeney Ridge. This way."

 

When the younger man - yes, Levi had figured the white-clad scavenger to be younger than himself - had stepped at the bottom of the slope, Laviendor heard the sound of concrete as well. So, they had reached a road. This called up a brief curiosity about where the road came from and when he was last maintained. Possibilities reared up in his mind, nagging at him to try and follow the flat plain in the opposite direction of Sweeney Ridge. However, he shook his head in refusal to the temptation of exploring and continued to follow the group of four. The sound of war drums proved to be more interesting.

[Mistress of Whispers]

Like Laviendor, Alice kept an eye on the ridges above them; she was keenly aware of her surroundings and, born from instinct and honed by experience, had a 3D alertness to possible threats. Now that they were moving earnestly again, the group had stopped talking (for the most part at least) and the drums seemed to echo in the silence.

 

Several years ago, Alice had passed through a territory where local Raiders used a horn to alert villagers that they were coming, with the intention of demoralizing any defenders. The repeated pattern of sound followed by a fight, had had the additional effect of alerting predators that 'chow time' was afoot - Alice suspected that the 'dinner bell' had initially been unintentional, but since the predators added to the defenders' fear, the Raiders had happily made use of it.

She had been caught in only one skirmish there, but the once had been quite enough - between the Raiders, settlers and predators, it had been a bloodbath. She sincerely hoped these drums didn't have a similar effect, but nevertheless reached to loosen both her knife and gun in their holsters just in case.

 

 

[Limitless]

Red had largely ignored the initial sound of the drums. She'd figured them to be such, but let the sound fade under her own thoughts. She found Jasmine to be very odd indeed, not seeming to worry at all about Lavendar touching her without permission in addition to how calm she'd seemed to be when the man had first appeared. Red wondered if perhaps it was that the bard was so confident in her fighting skills that she could take the interloper down quickly with little work rather than she was just that naive.

 

When they passed the small construct, she gave it little thought. Red was generally rather curious, but she figured if they'd seen it, anyone else who had travelled the road would have, too, and there was no point in digging it up. She walked in silence, eyes occasionally scanning the tops of the ledges. While she didn't like being at a height and positon disadvantage, she felt relatively confident the group could fend off any attackers. Only when they reached the concrete road did she further ready her weapons, suspecting the worst of the war drums in the distance.

[Arctic]

"Anything down there has rot anyway," Jovah remarked quietly in response to Laviendor. He sounded disappointed with this reality, sighing to himself as he forced himself to move on soon after. As the man passed him, he made no attempt to overtake him; he walked behind him. He seemed to prefer this, in fact, keeping his eyes trained on the redhead and only occasionally letting them wander to scan the surrounding fog – not that there was much to see with visibility so low.

 

Once the group was down on the roadway, Jovah took the lead again. To their left was a sheer ledge; not a straight drop, though if someone had an unfortunate fall down, they certainly wouldn't be able to climb back up, injuries or not. The bottom was shrouded in the salty fog that encompassed the group. To their right was the slope they had just come down from, dotted with the occasional tree, amongst them the odd living one. The wind broke against the near-cliff they walked along often, which had long since uprooted most of the dead trees that would have covered the slope to the right as well as ripped away the rusted guardrails that had once kept service vehicles from careening off to near certain death below.

 

The war drums were now more pronounced on the wind, carried directly from the city to where they were. They were both at higher altitude and there was no obstacle to muffle or outright block the steady rhythm anymore. Jovah absently mumbled something about the Blood Pack, including a colorful word or two, and adjusted his jacket, trying to better protect himself from the icy wind that swirled around the group, kicking up an ashy drift around their feet as they moved.

 

They would occasionally come across an abandoned car, though calling it a car was a compliment indeed. Most were mere metal skeletons, paint long since peeled off, seats having been ripped out a century before. Wheels were either torn to bits or altogether missing, and any and all electrical components had been plucked out, leaving only splayed wires in their wake. At one time, they came upon what had once been a traffic jam, where cars met eachother head-on as people were trying to get out of the city in the early days. A gridlock had formed, and a hundred skeletonized automobiles sat on what one think would be an altogether abandoned road.

 

Desiccated, frozen mummies laid half-buried in the snow, sitting against the slope to their right, or sprawled across the hood of a car. Many did not come from the early days. Many had simply died in ambush as they tried to navigate the vehicular jungle. All, no matter how old, were left in rags, and not one had shoes. Shoes had been the first commodity, and remained as such today. The sun had once blessed California, but no longer. Those early survivors often found themselves without clothing meant to withstand the cold that soon overtook them, and an obtuse percentage died simply from exposure.

 

It took the group several minutes to pass through. The entire time, Jovah didn't say a word; this was not out of some odd characteristic of not caring of death, or being so used to it he didn't give them a second glance. Rather, he seemed wholly uncomfortable. His eyes only occasionally lingered to one of the old worlders before quickly shooting back up. His silence was almost respectful in nature, though he remained tense. The tenseness only partially dissipated once they had moved through the graveyard of metal and man alike.

 

It wasn't long before a rusted, tilted-over sign indicated they had arrived at Sweeney Ridge Visitor Center. The original paint had peeled off long ago, but some scavenger had had the sense to carve the words in jagged lettering in to the rusted sign and set it as upright as he could manage. Despite the indication they had arrived, there was no visitor center to be seen. The group continued forward, Jovah stopping for a moment to lean against the rock face and cough, stinging ash having managed to get into his throat. He cleared it, spit, then moved on.

 

The visitor center soon emerged from the icy fog. There were only a few skeletal cars in the parking lot, half-buried in snow, and the windows of the building were covered in boards. The roof was a patch of makeshift repair jobs from the dozens of scavenger groups that had at one point or another attempted to make the center their home. No light shone from inside, however, and that indicated that there was no one inside. Jovah cleared his throat and turned to the group. "I want to get out of the cold. Go in or move on?" His voice was gruff and coarse from the coughing fit he had had only minutes before.

Edited August 20, 2013 by Arctic

[Mistress of Whispers]

As wind and ash picked up, Alice pulled down her goggles and wrapped her shawl around her head before once again putting up her coat's wide hood. She looked like a ghost in a dead landscape.

 

Alice raised her crossbow when they reached the traffic jam, carefully checking and clearing each foot of the road before proceeding. She didn't seem to notice the bodies, focused as she was on the danger posed to the living - this place was perfect for an ambush and Alice had seen too many of them. Nevertheless they made it through without incident and she lowered the weapon again.

 

She only glanced at the sign left propped up by a passing scavenger. The old-day signs often held symbols, which she had learned to understand, but the letters scratched into it now, held no meaning to her. Still, Jovah seemed unsurprised by the words, so Alice assumed they were where they should be. They continued on, with Jovah's progress stopped when he had a coughing fit. Alice moved in front of him, aware that his coughs might draw attention, and blocked him from possible attacks while he regained his breath. When his coughing stopped and he breathed normally again, Alice continued on without looking.

 

Finally they arrived at the Visitor's Center and Alice once more raised her weapon and started clearing the parking lot as they moved. At one point, she reached into a car and silently pulled something out - a rearview mirror - before tucking it in her bag. Old-day mirrors were quite rare, with the method to make them lost and the world long since reverting to polished metal, and Alice was more than a little surprised that one of the cars still held one.

 

""I want to get out of the cold. Go in or move on?"" Jovah's voice rang out into the cold.

Alice looked from the scavenger to the building he indicated and back. She didn't like the building; no light shone within, but that did not always preclude residents; human or otherwise. But he was right that they were risking exposure here and after their long trek they might do with a rest. She nodded and moved to the front of the group, readying her crossbow and pulling the flashlight lose from her belt. Holding the flashlight in her left hand and clicking it on, she crossed her left hand and rested the crossbow over it with her right hand ready on the trigger. She moved to the door and waited to see who else would join her in clearing the building and ensure it was safe.

Edited August 20, 2013 by Mistress of Whispers

[ValidEmotions]

[[Correct me on anything I may have done wrong or boundaries I overstepped.]]

 

Hood coming up to ward off most of the ash blown by the wind, Jasmine reached into her quiver's pouch for the coiled string. The sound of war drums was louder and she could pick up the distinct beat over the wind, making her feel a bit uncomfortable. Stringing her crossbow, she gently swept her hand over the taught wire. Her nerves buzzed faintly beneath her skin, anticipating a conflict that she would rather avoid.

 

As a bard, she was more likely to understand certain notes and melodies than most others were. However, the steady beat of war drums had a generally easy message anyone could understand. If she could, she would whistle a soft tune to help sooth her anxiety. Unfortunately, now was not a decent time that she was free to do so. Too much tension in the air due to the prospect of being attacked. She had not failed to hear Jovah mention something about the Blood Pack.

 

Once the traffic jam came into sight, Jasmine watched Alice's movements to get through it, faintly knowing that she should learn a few things from the other woman. She would learn something from each of those she traveled with; it was a habit of hers, be it done consciously or not. Though, she would not be able to mimic Alice's motions without a bit of practice and advise. This was made up by the fact that she was a quick learner. However, for this one moment, the bard simply moved quickly in as straight a path as possible.

 

Despite Red's wondering, Jasmine was neither naive nor actually capable of taking Laviendor down within moments and little effort. Certainly, she was a fair shot with a decent draw speed but that was with a prior warning. She could cripple him for sure if she was able to land a shot. However, her thoughts didn't linger on hurting anyone and Red's wondering would continue to be just wonder until someone asked about Jasmine's specific capabilities or witnessed them in a fight.

 

She passed by the frozen corpses without much pause. She had to. Once they were out of the frozen traffic, the sign post marking the approach to the Visitor Center soon followed. The building appeared to be vacant, boarded up as if it were closed off to travelers. It seemed, however, that it was accessible as Jovah wished for shelter within and Alice was able to get inside. Beside her, she noticed Laviendor move forward and turned her gaze to see what he was doing.

 

When the light-brown haired woman stepped into the doorway to start checking the building, Levi stepped forward to do the same. He slung his rifle back over his shoulder, unholstering his pistol with his left hand and checking the magazine briefly. The man extended his arm out, turning so that his left side faced the open room. He became ambidextrous out of necessity years ago, his dominant hand soon transitioning from his right to his left. However, he maintained the reliability and comfort of using his right hand despite his partial blindness.

 

His ears were strained for any sound that did not fit with that of their group's movements or the beating drums as he stepped inside the building. As he walked forward, he edged to the right, keeping his more vulnerable side protected and Alice to his left. It generated a sort of 90* angle between them, allowing for both to cover different sections of the first room. The space was relatively empty, occupied only by a handful of tilted chairs and a couple of dusty tables. The only source of light were gray streams that filtered in through cracks between the boards covering the windows, providing less visibility than there was outside.

 

Once he was certain that the old chairs and tables were the only things inside with them, Levi glanced back and holstered his pistol; a signal that the room was clear. Gorf hurried in when it was safe, his nails faintly clacking against the wood and sneezing twice due to the thick dust layering the air. The German Shepherd shook out his fur before sniffing along the ground and choosing a spot to lay down. "Anyone hungry?" Levi moved to sit in a chair beside Gorf, shifting his rifle for better comfort and moving his travel bag into his lap. They probably couldn't get a decent fire started incase the smoke that would escape the old building caught the attention of unwanted company but, certainly they could get something smoldering? When traveling, hot food was a luxury one couldn't afford to enjoy seven times out of ten.

 

Jasmine rubbed her arms and swept her hood back, grateful to be out of the cold, wind, and ash. Idly, she brushed out any lingering bits of ash from the dark strands and tied it back into a loose ponytail. "Question is, what is available for us to use to make a smoldering pit in here? The chairs would be an idea but, it might not be best to break one or two apart incase someone actually owns this Center. Also, I don't see a fireplace or a makeshift pit."