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Writing a post right now: its short, but its better than nothing xD
Victoria Jonas - Methodist Emergency Center - John/Buck/Farren & Dean
Composure was out of the question, as she and John cleaned up the mess. While he dragged the bodies away she wiped the floor of a mixture of blood and her tears. The girl scrubbed so hard, she found that her shoulder began to ache. She remembered her dad always telling her that hard work helps you vent your feelings, but she found that wiping up the blood of the woman that had been her friend for over 6 months, did not help her feelings and emotions in anyway.
Later, when John went to investigate the knocking, she found herself in a final fit of crying in his absence. She had always liked to think she was strong and independent, able to take care of herself. She wasn't feeling that, as she sobbed in the chair, right next to Mr. Oswald. About five minutes after John had left, Mr. Oswald had cried himself to sleep. The man looked grief-stricken, even in his sleep. She wondered if he, too would join his wife soon... She knew that people died of depression all the time, but she'd never met anyone with such strong sorrow that she'd ever considered it. It took her by surprise when his face adjusted and he seemed to fall into a peaceful mood. She was glad for that - Mr. Oswald had always been so strong... The couple was the stereotypical, southern hospitality, church-going couple.
According to Mrs. Oswald, their two children had completely deserted their parent's religion, but they loved them all the same. She'd always felt a sense of mesmerization when the Oswalds shared their seemingly endless array of stories. She would always become nostalgic for her father, mother, and brother. She'd always picked on her brother - even though in the last year, he'd become twice her size - but now she wanted nothing more than to wake up to find him, sitting in his room, playing his guitar with the amp up too loud. As a child, she'd always wanted a more interesting life, wanted something bigger... but nowadays she yearned for that old, small town Preacher's Family life that she'd lived.
She was brought to the present by the voice of John in her walkie talkie. Survivors? The last thing she wanted right now was more people to intrude on their haven. She didn't want to disobey John, though. She unclipped it from her waistband, attempting to speak into it, but the words caught in her throat. She breathed heavily, regaining herself, and trying again. "O-on my way." She said, and stood from the chair with forced effort. Before she left the room, she went to Mr. Oswald's bed, reaching and pulling up the blanket and adjusting his pillow, making sure he was comfortable. She left the room, feeling like she would break down again, locking the door with her keys.
She took her time in venturing the halls to room 107. Upon reaching them, she was surprised to see a man that dwarfed John in size. Beside them, a pretty woman stood with what would've been the most adorable little boy, had Victoria not just witnessed the murder of her friend. She had always imagined what it would be like to receive new survivors. She imagined welcoming them with the same Texas hospitality that her mother welcomed guests into their home. John introduced the woman and her boy as Farren and Dean, the man (Whom Victoria subconsciously labeled as Dean's father), he introduced as "Buck". Out of pure respect and decency, she forced a pain-filled smile to the newcomers in attempt to seem friendly, though she knew that her puffy eyes would betray her. "Hi."
Composure was out of the question, as she and John cleaned up the mess. While he dragged the bodies away she wiped the floor of a mixture of blood and her tears. The girl scrubbed so hard, she found that her shoulder began to ache. She remembered her dad always telling her that hard work helps you vent your feelings, but she found that wiping up the blood of the woman that had been her friend for over 6 months, did not help her feelings and emotions in anyway.
Later, when John went to investigate the knocking, she found herself in a final fit of crying in his absence. She had always liked to think she was strong and independent, able to take care of herself. She wasn't feeling that, as she sobbed in the chair, right next to Mr. Oswald. About five minutes after John had left, Mr. Oswald had cried himself to sleep. The man looked grief-stricken, even in his sleep. She wondered if he, too would join his wife soon... She knew that people died of depression all the time, but she'd never met anyone with such strong sorrow that she'd ever considered it. It took her by surprise when his face adjusted and he seemed to fall into a peaceful mood. She was glad for that - Mr. Oswald had always been so strong... The couple was the stereotypical, southern hospitality, church-going couple.
According to Mrs. Oswald, their two children had completely deserted their parent's religion, but they loved them all the same. She'd always felt a sense of mesmerization when the Oswalds shared their seemingly endless array of stories. She would always become nostalgic for her father, mother, and brother. She'd always picked on her brother - even though in the last year, he'd become twice her size - but now she wanted nothing more than to wake up to find him, sitting in his room, playing his guitar with the amp up too loud. As a child, she'd always wanted a more interesting life, wanted something bigger... but nowadays she yearned for that old, small town Preacher's Family life that she'd lived.
She was brought to the present by the voice of John in her walkie talkie. Survivors? The last thing she wanted right now was more people to intrude on their haven. She didn't want to disobey John, though. She unclipped it from her waistband, attempting to speak into it, but the words caught in her throat. She breathed heavily, regaining herself, and trying again. "O-on my way." She said, and stood from the chair with forced effort. Before she left the room, she went to Mr. Oswald's bed, reaching and pulling up the blanket and adjusting his pillow, making sure he was comfortable. She left the room, feeling like she would break down again, locking the door with her keys.
She took her time in venturing the halls to room 107. Upon reaching them, she was surprised to see a man that dwarfed John in size. Beside them, a pretty woman stood with what would've been the most adorable little boy, had Victoria not just witnessed the murder of her friend. She had always imagined what it would be like to receive new survivors. She imagined welcoming them with the same Texas hospitality that her mother welcomed guests into their home. John introduced the woman and her boy as Farren and Dean, the man (Whom Victoria subconsciously labeled as Dean's father), he introduced as "Buck". Out of pure respect and decency, she forced a pain-filled smile to the newcomers in attempt to seem friendly, though she knew that her puffy eyes would betray her. "Hi."
@Coolcanadianhero @Whirlwind
Victoria and John are right in the front of the lobby of MEC. John is literally leaning on the door, sobbing. I was just thinkin that Farren and Buck(Buck, right?) could probably see them both.
Victoria and John are right in the front of the lobby of MEC. John is literally leaning on the door, sobbing. I was just thinkin that Farren and Buck(Buck, right?) could probably see them both.
I'm alive too! ^_^
Victoria Jonas - Near Methodist Emergency
In all of the crap and downsides to being on her own, Tori was glad for one thing - Texas nights were never too unbearably cold. Her flannel shirt and warm coat took care of her when the chill did come on too strong, though. She guessed it was around 50-60 degrees that night as she stood in the abandoned home. Her Pistol was gripped in both hands, safety off and ready to fire. A suppressor hung on the barrel, drastically decreasing the noise that that gun made when discharged. She'd found that it wasn't a quiet pop like the movies showed it, but rather a sharp snap that still gave ample echo. She'd searched the house and found only one 24 pack of water-bottles, but other-wise it was empty of any valuable loot.
After taking the water out to her car, a silver Honda Pilot, she'd come back to sweep the place once more, quickly though. She had too get back soon - It was getting dark and John didn't like when she was gone for too long. He was rather stickily when it came to security. Driving at night meant using headlights, and headlights would attract walkers like moths to a... well, to a light. Decisive in her finishing sweep, she headed out of the house and down the steps. The house was in a secluded area, and she'd only stopped because she stumbled upon it on her ride back from a gas station about 2 exits down the highway.
It took her about ten minutes to get back on track towards I-10 towards the hospital - towards her home. She'd been so lucky that she'd been in a place like the hospital when everything hit the fan. She - and also the Oswalds - were lucky to have a man like John. They were lucky to have someone so kind and willing to help. It didn't matter that he was merely a Hospital security guard, he was now the savior of the whole place; albeit the whole building only housed 4 people. Tori found herself often admiring John and his leadership skills. If he hadn't been a decade her senior, she probably would have found herself admiring him in a different way...
She'd seen his sincere heart the first moment she'd seen him. She'd been admitted to the hospital after suffering a harsh concussion in a soccer game, leaving her bed-ridden in the MED for a scheduled three days. John had stepped in and taken over when everyone else abandoned - The Oswalds were to old and fragile to move, and Tori to frightened and, at the time, incapacitated. In those first few days of being in the hospital among the during the outbreak, she came to realize that one tended to heavily develop connections with people in times of desperation. Because of that, John and the Oswalds became her family in the absence of her parents and brother.
Victoria turned up the off-ramp and wound the roads until she found the Emergency Center, pulling to the back, which had been cleared off walkers. She went in through a locked door, opening it with a key that they'd scavenged when searching the hospital. Just as she set the bottles down to lock the door back, she heard a shot fire. A shriek escaped her lips, as she dropped the key in surprise. She instantly produced her pistol and dashed down the hallway. "John?!" She yelled. "Mr. & Mrs. Oswald?" Her heart raced and tears brimmed at her eyes in fear of what might lie ahead. She found that her fears were confirmed when she found the lobby - When she found John lain against the door, sobbing heavily. On the ground were four bodies. From the clothes, she immediately recognized one of the bodies - Mrs. Oswald. The tears no longer peeked at her lids, but streamed heavily as she dropped to her knees, letting her gun fall to the floor with a clatter. She called helplessly in her small, high-toned voice to the man. "John..."
In all of the crap and downsides to being on her own, Tori was glad for one thing - Texas nights were never too unbearably cold. Her flannel shirt and warm coat took care of her when the chill did come on too strong, though. She guessed it was around 50-60 degrees that night as she stood in the abandoned home. Her Pistol was gripped in both hands, safety off and ready to fire. A suppressor hung on the barrel, drastically decreasing the noise that that gun made when discharged. She'd found that it wasn't a quiet pop like the movies showed it, but rather a sharp snap that still gave ample echo. She'd searched the house and found only one 24 pack of water-bottles, but other-wise it was empty of any valuable loot.
After taking the water out to her car, a silver Honda Pilot, she'd come back to sweep the place once more, quickly though. She had too get back soon - It was getting dark and John didn't like when she was gone for too long. He was rather stickily when it came to security. Driving at night meant using headlights, and headlights would attract walkers like moths to a... well, to a light. Decisive in her finishing sweep, she headed out of the house and down the steps. The house was in a secluded area, and she'd only stopped because she stumbled upon it on her ride back from a gas station about 2 exits down the highway.
It took her about ten minutes to get back on track towards I-10 towards the hospital - towards her home. She'd been so lucky that she'd been in a place like the hospital when everything hit the fan. She - and also the Oswalds - were lucky to have a man like John. They were lucky to have someone so kind and willing to help. It didn't matter that he was merely a Hospital security guard, he was now the savior of the whole place; albeit the whole building only housed 4 people. Tori found herself often admiring John and his leadership skills. If he hadn't been a decade her senior, she probably would have found herself admiring him in a different way...
She'd seen his sincere heart the first moment she'd seen him. She'd been admitted to the hospital after suffering a harsh concussion in a soccer game, leaving her bed-ridden in the MED for a scheduled three days. John had stepped in and taken over when everyone else abandoned - The Oswalds were to old and fragile to move, and Tori to frightened and, at the time, incapacitated. In those first few days of being in the hospital among the during the outbreak, she came to realize that one tended to heavily develop connections with people in times of desperation. Because of that, John and the Oswalds became her family in the absence of her parents and brother.
Victoria turned up the off-ramp and wound the roads until she found the Emergency Center, pulling to the back, which had been cleared off walkers. She went in through a locked door, opening it with a key that they'd scavenged when searching the hospital. Just as she set the bottles down to lock the door back, she heard a shot fire. A shriek escaped her lips, as she dropped the key in surprise. She instantly produced her pistol and dashed down the hallway. "John?!" She yelled. "Mr. & Mrs. Oswald?" Her heart raced and tears brimmed at her eyes in fear of what might lie ahead. She found that her fears were confirmed when she found the lobby - When she found John lain against the door, sobbing heavily. On the ground were four bodies. From the clothes, she immediately recognized one of the bodies - Mrs. Oswald. The tears no longer peeked at her lids, but streamed heavily as she dropped to her knees, letting her gun fall to the floor with a clatter. She called helplessly in her small, high-toned voice to the man. "John..."
Spinoff C.S.
((IGNORE THE GIANT COAT))
Name: Victoria Claire Jonas
Age: 17
Skill: Sneaking, Sub-par marksmanship
Weapon: Buck Knife, Glock 19
Personality: Victoria tends to see the bad side in people and often holds it against them. She is a rather cautious person when it comes to dangerous situations and risks, but she is an awful liar and is prone to getting into trouble. When Victoria earns someone's trust (and vice versa), she is loyal to a fault.
Brief Bio:
Victoria grew up in rather normal circumstances. She lived the life of a stereotypical preacher's daughter in the small town of Jefferson, Texas. Growing up, she did normal things like fail at learning guitar and playing with her neighborhood friends. When she was a teen, she attended her local high school with her younger brother, David. Being the "preachers daughter" she never did anything seemingly wild to the people of her small baptist church-like go to parties or drink.
When she was 14, her youngest brother, Michael died in a car wreck, leaving a permanent scar in the entire family's life. For almost a year, her dad was less passionate about his preaching, but eventually overcame the grief. When the apocalypse came, her brother and her parents were away on a trip for his class, so she started out alone.
((IGNORE THE GIANT COAT))
Name: Victoria Claire Jonas
Age: 17
Skill: Sneaking, Sub-par marksmanship
Weapon: Buck Knife, Glock 19
Personality: Victoria tends to see the bad side in people and often holds it against them. She is a rather cautious person when it comes to dangerous situations and risks, but she is an awful liar and is prone to getting into trouble. When Victoria earns someone's trust (and vice versa), she is loyal to a fault.
Brief Bio:
Victoria grew up in rather normal circumstances. She lived the life of a stereotypical preacher's daughter in the small town of Jefferson, Texas. Growing up, she did normal things like fail at learning guitar and playing with her neighborhood friends. When she was a teen, she attended her local high school with her younger brother, David. Being the "preachers daughter" she never did anything seemingly wild to the people of her small baptist church-like go to parties or drink.
When she was 14, her youngest brother, Michael died in a car wreck, leaving a permanent scar in the entire family's life. For almost a year, her dad was less passionate about his preaching, but eventually overcame the grief. When the apocalypse came, her brother and her parents were away on a trip for his class, so she started out alone.
I want in! I don't know how well I'll be able to get back into the mother-rp, so I might just hijack your train instead :D
Hey, guys. Due to some personal issues, I'm going to have to drop out. Sorry for the inconvenience. Feel free to kill my character or use her or whatever you want.
*Cue Breaking Benjamin's "I Will Not Bow"*
Guys, Guys, take it down a notch.
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