[b]TOBIAS[/b]

Tobias stood leaning against the side, listening to what was said, before he looked to Ravenia as she walked past, her touch making him smile at her for a moment, before he looked up. "Blessed Ones are what those with abilites are called her" Tobias answered. "in the Waste the names are Freaks, Tools, some of the slave trades "Specialists" making the air quotes, revealing he knew a little more about what went on outside of Paradise. "and keep your sweethearts to yourself, would do well to piss off your Doctor" feeling a bit of jealous coming up from him calling Ravenia that. 

hearing about this man made Tobias not really want to meet him. "fear is a powerful motivator, especially if you can back it up, making the people more afraid of you then the Undead then" he left the statement off, there was no need to finish it, they all would get it. when the man made to sit up, Tobias walked over and helped her. "easy, you'll tear the stitches on your back with that much moving so just easy" Tobias said not unkindly, more professionally as the information of how many people this cultist had.. two hundred souls, a hunded of them afraid of him. he caught Ravenia's gaze for a moment, wishing once again he could read her mind, but this time he wanted to know what she thought about all this. 

[b]NICOLAS[/b]

front passenger side axle was bent, not badly but not good either, his ride would hobble til he could get that fix, but currently he had other problems, aside from the barge sinking behind him, the sound of it had obviously attracted some deaders. panting not from exertion, but from the fever that was slowly cooking him alive from the inside out and the pain in his leg making him limp some Nicolas was in combat. he had guns of course.. the back of his runner was loaded up.. Rifles, pistols, ammo.. and a very special weapon from the olden days he'd manage to 'negoiate' out of the hand of some raiders. "COME ON!!" Nicolas yelled, leaping forward, tackling into one of the dead, his knifes.. two foot long and with a wicked curved blade, serrated on the back end, drove into its skull, and was pulled out almost instantly as he rolled, kicking out feet from underneath the deaders. "YOU COULDNT TAKE ME ON YOUR BEST DAY YOU UNDEAD FUCKS!!!" getting to his feet.. the wound on his leg oozing and bleeding through the bandages. hobbling to his runner, he flipped open one of the metal crates. "its the simple things in life worth living" he started laughing as on the dash his bobblehead bobbed away from the movement he'd been making. "dont lecture me, i know what im doing" and when he pulled out a quad barrel, old Military grade Gattlin gun, the belt hanging off to the side, the bullets loaded and ready to go, Nicolas grinned.. part fever, part just cause he was nuts. "look ma, another big STICK" and he pulled the trigger.. the gun whirred, the barrels spinning for a second and then.. all Hell broke loose as it started firing. dead, dirt, rocks.. everything he sweep the gun across was cut into the pieces. side effect a dust cloud was made as the bullets collided with the ground.