[center]Collab between finalcatharsis, Exit and Zacharius
Part 1[/center]

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The boom of the revolver broke across the landscape, washing over the church, a warning sign and siren call all in one. Heads turned to regard it for miles, almost all attached to bodies long ago given to the plague. It's source, the colt python, was holstered immediately, replaced in the same right hand by a machete, the blade slicing down into the next target with brute force and precision. Hauled back from the bone, another zombie bit the snow. The figure that weilded the blade was one out of a fantasy epic, at least at first glance, the pelts of hunted creatures draped over his shoulders, blade dripping with the ichor of the dead. On closer inspection, the hiking pack and modern winter gear beneath the furs revealed a rather more mundane sight. At the slightest sound of string-strain behind him, the tall man knelt, moments before an arrow darted through the air, planting in the eye socket of another approaching zombie. Before the monstrosity had even hit the floor, the man was up with a burst of speed, crashing shoulder first into a zombie which had approached the duo. Teeth clamped down, but found only pelts and plastic, protective gear designed for the intensity of proffessional sports, fending off the rotting teeth, before a blade plunged between them, ending the undead's struggle. The remaining threats, two more of the ex-humans stumbling through the drift were felled by arrows. The boom of the gun had done its job, bringing the scattered undead together. There would be a latter wave, but with the defendable position of the church, that would cause little worry.

Abel furrowed his eye brows when he'd heard the sound. His mind registered the damp thundering as strange but he didn't know what it was yet... in fact, what he'd assumed it to be was entirely off.

[b]"Thiiink.... you might need to tune it again..."[/b]

"That wasn't my guitar..." Daniel unhooked the strap and set it down on the floor. He walked closer to Abel with his hands out to the side for balance as he went down the altar stairs, clearly in deep thought. "How drunk are you that you can't recognize the sound of a gunshot?" ABEL was the one that was supposed to be the ugly survivor.

It took a second for the last word to register but as soon as he recognized it... the cogs in his brain ___. His eyes shot open and he immediately sat upright... his neck craned as he tried to listen for it again... as if the sound were to repeat itself. [i]...Idiot.. that was a gunshot...[/i] He berated himself. Letting himself relax like he'd just done... letting himself drink. This was exactly what he'd feared many months ago. He could never be sure when danger was waiting around the corner and now here it was just outside the safe walls of this church. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, his eyes staring through the walls as he tried to... somehow.. find the source of the gunshot. When he'd failed, his eyes leveled with Daniel's who was already staring at him somewhat puzzled.

[b]"Ya... I heard that... sounds like you might have more visitors."[/b]

His hand went for his hip again, the need to defend himself... and not just himself but Daniel as well... like an emotion clouding over him. He needed his gun but once again, he found it missing. Memories clamored through a fogged brain as he realized that it was still outside.

Daniel started to strategize. While the events that happened four months ago left him emotionally scarred, they had taught him a valuable lesson. This wasn't going to be another innocent snowball fight. The gun had already been fired. He got serious suddenly, no longer the pure priest after remembering that he too was a killer.

Finally straightening to his full height, the male figure, Marcus, stood from his crouch in the snow, surveying their surroundings, pausing over the church, before settling on his companion. Just like him, she wore pelts over winter clothing, the combination of modern inginuity present in the hiking coats, granted extra warmth by the traditional wrappings of pelts. It also served to make them look the business, to those who encountered them. A few more damaged souls had run screaming at the sight of the 'barbarians.' That had been amusing.

"You're sure?" The words that finally left his lips were not accusatory, simply seeking confirmation, but the look he got from her, beneath the hood keeping the snow and wind out of her face, made it clear she had taken it as such. It was unnecesary really, but the hope that they might encounter humans beyond raiders and mad men seemed a distant one, and came along with a series of doubts.

"No, I was just making it up to fuck with you." She half snarled, although, the slight grin that eventually picked up at the corners of her mouth spoke more of the harsh banter between them, as opposed to being genuinely pissed off, even still, she thumped him on the arm as she approached, having collected the arrows she had expended on the dead, returning them to the quiver at her waist, her back taken up by the presence of her own survival pack.

"Maybe, that or you're so tired of me you're hullucinating." He grinned back, turning his full attention to the church. The story seemed a little odd, a man throwing snowballs at another, then the pair of them going inside, but he'd heard weirder stories, hell, they were living in a world with walking undead people. He slid the blade back into the side of his belt, keeping a hand on his gun holster, he approached the door to the church, concious that Maela would be more cautious, hanging back with an arrow already poised for flight. They didn't need to discuss things anymore, mentally they aligned more than any bond he'd ever shared. It scared them both in a way, part of the reason why finding other people was such a relieving plan. With that thought, his fist banged against the door.

"Hello, we saw you both. Not looking to steal anything. Just some shelter and company, if you could be so kind." It sounded foolish to even say, in a world so twisted, but Marcus hadn't exactly taken the class in 'how to sound nice during the end of the world.' Even still, he felt he'd messed it up a bit, which was supported by the sigh from Maela behind him, although equally, she was as much teasing him as venting any real frustration.

Minutes later there was a knock at the front entrance and a distinctly masculine voice followed, though it was muffled by the wood. [i]Not looking to steal anything, huh? Who the fuck comes out and says that right off the bat? I'm not going to get tricked again.[/i]

"Take these and go get your gun." Yes, he had noticed the empty holster and remembered the pistol dropping into the snow after Abel had attempted to shoot him. The priest tossed him his keys. He wanted to tell him [i]sober the fuck up,[/i] but that would have just made him a hypocrit.

"Then come meet me on the roof. We should be able to look down on them from there. Figure this out." If there was anything the priest knew, it was his church. He didn't hesitate to follow through, turning on Abel to make his way through the sacristy and to the stairwell. From there it was only a minute or two to the front edge of the roof. He'd wait there for Abel assuming what happened next might require his expertise. The wind up there was harsh, but he pushed through it.

Abel fumbled with the keys as they landed in his hands. The toss was perfect as they were only standing a few feet from each other but Abel misjudged the distance and ended up juggling them before getting them in a firm grasp. Without a word, he turned on his heel and made his way to the side door where they'd entered earlier that day. Pushing the corpse of the shuffler to the side, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. The frigid afternoon air poured it's way into the church but with the alcohol in his belly, he ignored it's bite and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. The cold did little but sober him up some... allowing him to better think straight and come up with a plan of his own.

On the ground before him were two sets of tracks, one belonging to himself while the other belonged to Daniel. They lead back to a small patch of snow not more than twenty feet away from the side of the church, a patch of snow that'd been disturbed greatly. Luckily for him, the patch was in such a spot that the two at the door wouldn't be able to see him when he made it out there. Wasting no more time, he began a strenuous wobble over to where his pistol waited. Within a few minutes, he'd recovered it and slowly made his way back. He was inside by the time more knocking against the door was heard. He did his best to ignore them as he made his way to the roof and over to Daniel's side. They both peered down at the two.

[b]"Bow and arrow... wow."[/b] Abel hadn't come across too many survivors who could wield the weapon.. proficiently. But with the way the woman had it already drawn, tension tugging against the tail of the arrow, he could tell she knew how to use it. The other had a machete on his back and his hand was pressed to his hip... most likely brushing agianst the butt of the gun.. the gun they'd heard earlier. From here and from experience... they looked fairly hostile and in Abel's mind... the remedy was simple: You'd kill them... and take their things... but it was different now. He wasn't alone and although it put him in danger, he had to think with the mind of someone who still believed in chances. The next logical step then would be to have them drop their weapons... or die. At least that's what he was planning to threaten them with. He pulled the pistol from his hip... this time making sure it was loaded and began to aim the barrel down at them. His eyes turned to meet Daniel's, not sure how he would react to this.

[b]"You know them?"[/b] He asked... the brow over his right eye raising a bit. He wasn't sure if that was the alcohol talking or not.

Daniel returned Abel's gaze. The man said something he hadn't expected to hear. Before answering, he took one more look down below. It looked like these two had been wandering for a while. And were they wearing animal pelts? That, along with the size of the man offered Danny no comfort, as he recalled the beating he had taken months prior.

"No. I don't. Haven't seen anyone but you in four months." The wine had his short term memory reeling a bit, as he couldn't recall if he had told Abel how long he'd been alone. He looked back down at the two. Abel hadn't said anything or assumed anything negative about their intentions... so that meant he could move forward, right? He tried to think of something Abel might say, and before he spoke he leaned back so he wouldn't catch a surprise arrow.

The priest cupped his hands around his mouth to make sure he was heard. "I could be so kind! But you have to leave your weapons outside!" He looked at the man crouched next to him almost as if asking for his approval or praise.

Maela's eyes darted up to the roof at the sound of the man, perceiving no immediate threat, she resisted the urge to turn the bow upwards, instead keeping the arrow knotched by aimed downwards, instead motioning for Marcus to back off from the door, with little more than a click of her tongue. The larger man backed away from the entrance to the church, boots once more crunching in the snow as he turned to face those on the roof, keeping his hands away from his weapons now, although Maela kept her bow ready.

"I don't think that's going to work out, once we're inside we'll relinquish them...but otherwise well we'd be putting ourselves at your mercy." It was still Marcus who spoke, Maela keeping her eyes on the men above, even if she remained silent. Unlike Marcus, she wore her pelt in the traditional style of hunters, her own head sheltered by the jaw of the timber wolf she had slain. It added, rather dramatically, to how intimidating she was, something she'd long learned to put to good use, less she be mistaken for the weakest member of the group.

"She can lose the arrow, if that helps." Marcus continued, earning a glance, if still no words, from her.

Abel inched closer to the edge of the roof, his gun aimed down at the two even as it seemed they hadn't the notion to do the same in return. The sun hadn't kissed the horizon just yet but the shadow cast by the church itself basked the pair in a dark that was hard to see through. He tried to make out the two... pick out any defning features, read them... there was still a slight buzz that hindered him, prevented him from thinking completely straight. He could only see them for who they presented themselves to be.

The man on the left, standing a step behind the woman was tall and dark. Most likely African American in descent. He looked unusually large... too large to say that he was simply cut. In fact the overal appearance was near menacing. With the man's large size he figured that most would simply avoid the pair. Not to mention... the woman held her own in looks as well. She wore pelts as well although her outfit ended with the head of the animal over hers. He could just make out the milky white of her eyes under the fur staring up at him... there was a familiar darkness in them that he'd come to recognize. Nearly every survivor he'd crossedd had no amount of trust for another and although they were knocking at Daniel's doors, these two were no exception. He shared the same sentiment for them... who knew what they really wanted? Having heard Daniel's story and from past experience, he wasn't going to let them in until he knew they weren't threats.

He turned to meet his friends gaze, the look in his eyes as if to say "It's my turn". [b]"Do whatever you'd like with the arrow but the way I see it..!"[/b] He turned out toward the line of trees in the distance. More of the dead were beginning to appear... a lot more, all drawn by the sound of the gunshot earlier. [b]"... It's either our mercy or theirs! Difference is we have food and water to share! Only drop the weapons! We'll escort you both inside and..."[/b] He looked at Daniel once more. If Abel were alone, the words in his mouth would be the same but the truth behind them entirely lost. [b]"...return your things once he deems you both safe!"[/b]

In Abel's eyes... no one was safe.

As Abel finished speaking, Marcus turned to Maela, communicating with a brief shrug. They'd anticipated what other survivors were left would be hardly trusting, even those who weren't murdering raiders and by this point, compromise was something he was willing to do. Maela sighed once more, relinquishing the bow which had saved both of their lives on many an occasion was hardly something that brought her comfort, but arguing with Marcus and by extension the people on the roof, wasn't going to get them anywhere. She wasn't scared of the undead threat, but she'd rather not get herself covered in ichor when they could be inside. The shrug she returned was all the affirmation he would get from her, but it was followed up by the handing over of her bow.

Marcus made somewhat of theatrical display of placing the weapons on the ground, before stepping away from them. He turned away from the church to watch the approaching zombies, still a few minutes away in the difficult slush of the snow, before his eyes returned to those on the roof.

"Deal."