Athol

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

While the others talked, and fortunately all agreed that Moresby was a bad idea, Eliza began to poke about the office once again, looking for anything useful. Aside from the medical kit, she located a load of, what she guessed, was lost property. Mostly it was sunglasses, swim gear etc, but she did also find several backpacks which she tossed out into the main area for the others, while slinging one over her own shoulder. None of the packs were anything more than little day packs, but at least it gave them some extra carrying capacity.

More poking about lead her into what looked like the main locker room for the resort’s security staff. Most lockers, unsurprisingly, were locked but several that weren’t contained stashed emergency supplies. It wasn’t much, but enough for everyone to get a couple bottles of water and some protein bars, without totally stripping Mike of everything.

A bit more poking about got her into a utility area. Mostly it seemed to house utility panels and ladders, but in a back corner her eyes lit up as she found a bunch of pipes stacked up. About 2-3 cm in diameter, it was heavy walled, and Eliza guessed for running gas. Along side these were boxes, that when she tore one open, she found contained various fittings and connectors. Grabbing a 60 cm bit of pipe, she gathered up as much of the emergency rations as she could and went back to everyone else, smiling.

”Got some good news. There’s some emergency rations in the locker room, not a huge amount, but enough to hold us for a little while, and a load of gas piping we can use as weapons.” Off loading the rations she’d been carrying, aside from her share, she headed back to the pipes.

All the piping was threaded, so to one end she added just a simple cap, while to the other she threaded a T junction. To the arms of the T she added two 6 cm little connectors, before adding two more caps. All of these she tightened as much as she could by hand, and by the time she was done, she had a respectable little hammer. Once done she returned to the others.

The War That Ended All Wars [Applications Open]

Kavan Berthou

KAVAN BERTHOU

"This is a harsh world, and I am old for a reason."

_{[ ❇ ] S Y N O P S I S}

---

_Name

Kavan Berthou

_Gender

Male

_Age

65

_{[ ❇ ] C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N}

---

_Appearance

As a young man his hair was a rich, honey blonde and his eyes were a pale blue, flecked with green. Today, his eyes are still the same, but his hair has long since gone white. His whole body is a patchwork of little scars and blemishes, the kind of thing one gets from a hard life in the wilds of this shattered world.

Despite advancing age and a tough life, he is still a powerfully built fellow standing roughly 180 cm tall and about 80 kilos of muscle, though admittedly he’s found himself softening about the middle more and more as the years pass. Over his heart he has tattooed a Cross of Lorraine, underneath which there are fifteen marks, one for each member of his small village.

Clothing-wise, he wears whatever he can make or scavenge from the world around him. His boots and pants are Kaiserreich, his undershirt, gear harness and pouches are Confederacy and his gloves and cap are Hessen. To this he also carries a large hand made pack made of deer hide and wears a wolf-skin cloak.

_Personality

Vigilant ⟶ Patient ⟶ Sardonic ⟶ Reverent ⟶ Affable

_Biography

What his families life was like before the Last War has been lost to time; all he ever knew was a tough but relatively good life in his isolated little village. During the War the area was strategically unimportant so the worst of the fighting passed them by; and once things really started to fall apart, the worst of that missed them as well.

Growing up, and being as large as he was, Kavan split wood and worked the fields from a fairly young age, and from about 16 onwards he also hunted, took part in defending the village as needed, and on occasion trekking out to trade with other settlements. All-in-all it was a remarkably good life for such a broken world, but rarely do such things last. He was just entering his twentieth year, newly married and with a child on the way when his own world broke. Returning home after being away for several days on a hunting/trading trip he saw a disturbing amount of smoke in the sky over his home. Abandoning everything but his weapon he rushed back to find he was days too late.

From what he was able to piece together from the damage done and the bodies strewn about, his home had been savaged by a prefect storm of bad chance. Some of the dead had the look of slavers, a constant worry that their remoteness usually protected them from, and the others were ghouls, on of the Wars many left over horrors. Kavan guessed the slavers surprised his village, and was in the process of rounding everyone up when a pack of ghouls must have shambled close enough to be drawn by the sounds. The slavers took several casualties, but they were well armed and the ghouls were only a small pack and not a Horde, and so were wiped out. While he had been gladdened to not find any of his people savaged by the ghouls, the fact that they weren’t there meant enough slavers had survived to maintain control of their captives.

For a time he set out in search to find his friends and family, his love and his child, but in the end nothing came of it. After a time he came to accept their probably deaths, and though he kept the memories close, he moved on. That said, after such destruction he never felt at ‘home’ anywhere and so has spent his life carefully making his way between the various holdouts of humanity.

_{[ ❇ ] M I S C E L L A N E O U S}

---

_Gear

• G24(t) --- [Loaded] 5 Rounds [Spare Clip] (x2) 5 Rounds Per [Ammunition Pouch] 20 Rounds Loose
• Mle. 1935A --- [Loaded] 7 Rounds [Spare Magazine] (x1) 7 Rounds [Ammunition Pouch] 21 Rounds Loose
• Hatchet
• Knife
• Small Toolkit --- Adjustable Wrench, locking pliers, Screwdriver

_Skills

• Sharpshooter
• Tracker
• Survivalist
• Salvager
• Multilingual --- Naturally he is fully fluent in French, and understands more German than he can speak. He also has a smattering of English.

_Other

Dialogue Color: DodgerBlue

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

{Withdrawn due to personal time constraints}

[closed]

@Undying Curiosity I've not lost interest, I'd just posted more recently and 've been waiting for others before responding to Zyrick

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

She nodded politely to Charlotte, but couldn’t help making a bit of a face when the other woman still suggested a ‘drive by’ of the city. Outbreak 101,She found herself thinking. Stay the FUCK away from urban centers if at all possible. Watching the others, she was glad to see that Elijah and the other fellow, the one who’d stopped the Asshole from closing them out, were against driving to Moresby though Elijah’s idea about trying an underground way to the city struck her as probably even a worse plan. No where to go but forwards or back, and far to easy to get turned about in same-y tunnels.

Mike was talking about finding food and somewhere secure when the security guard perked up and rushed over to a billboard, returning moments later with a map of the resort. He pointed out a lighthouse and mentioned the possibility of survivors, as well as the fact that the most probable route would take them right by a small marina. So far that seemed like the best idea to Eliza, and judging by the faces round her there was some agreement to that; and if they were in luck, there’d be a boat they could nab, heave to by the lighthouse, take off anyone there and then get the fuck out of the area. ”Lighthouse seems like the best of a bad situation.”She muttered, not realizing she’d spoken out loud.

Mike was talking about staying behind to close the exit behind them, and she guessed man his post until the end or rescue. She wanted to tell him to forget that and come with them, but the look she saw in his eyes as he talked about giving the other fellow his gun, she doubted anyone could change his mind. ”Speaking of weapons,” She said finally. ”Is there anything else around here that we could use or improvise? One nine mil and a crowbar aren’t going to be enough.”

The War That Ended All Wars [Applications Open]

Kavan Berthou

KAVAN BERTHOU

"This is a harsh world, and I am old for a reason."

_{[ ❇ ] S Y N O P S I S}

---

_Name

Kavan Berthou

_Gender

Male

_Age

65

_{[ ❇ ] C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N}

---

_Appearance

As a young man his hair was a rich, honey blonde and his eyes were a pale blue, flecked with green. Today, his eyes are still the same, but his hair has long since gone white. His whole body is a patchwork of little scars and blemishes, the kind of thing one gets from a hard life in the wilds of this shattered world.

Despite advancing age and a tough life, he is still a powerfully built fellow standing roughly 180 cm tall and about 80 kilos of muscle, though admittedly he’s found himself softening about the middle more and more as the years pass. Over his heart he has tattooed a Cross of Lorraine, underneath which there are fifteen marks, one for each member of his small village.

Clothing-wise, he wears whatever he can make or scavenge from the world around him. His boots and pants are Kaiserreich, his undershirt, gear harness and pouches are Confederacy and his gloves and cap are Hessen. To this he also carries a large hand made pack made of deer hide and wears a wolf-skin cloak.

_Personality

Vigilant ⟶ Patient ⟶ Sardonic ⟶ Reverent ⟶ Affable

_Biography

What his families life was like before the Last War has been lost to time; all he ever knew was a tough but relatively good life in his isolated little village. During the War the area was strategically unimportant so the worst of the fighting passed them by; and once things really started to fall apart, the worst of that missed them as well.

Growing up, and being as large as he was, Kavan split wood and worked the fields from a fairly young age, and from about 16 onwards he also hunted, took part in defending the village as needed, and on occasion trekking out to trade with other settlements. All-in-all it was a remarkably good life for such a broken world, but rarely do such things last. He was just entering his twentieth year, newly married and with a child on the way when his own world broke. Returning home after being away for several days on a hunting/trading trip he saw a disturbing amount of smoke in the sky over his home. Abandoning everything but his weapon he rushed back to find he was days too late.

From what he was able to piece together from the damage done and the bodies strewn about, his home had been savaged by a prefect storm of bad chance. Some of the dead had the look of slavers, a constant worry that their remoteness usually protected them from, and the others were ghouls, on of the Wars many left over horrors. Kavan guessed the slavers surprised his village, and was in the process of rounding everyone up when a pack of ghouls must have shambled close enough to be drawn by the sounds. The slavers took several casualties, but they were well armed and the ghouls were only a small pack and not a Horde, and so were wiped out. While he had been gladdened to not find any of his people savaged by the ghouls, the fact that they weren’t there meant enough slavers had survived to maintain control of their captives.

For a time he set out in search to find his friends and family, his love and his child, but in the end nothing came of it. After a time he came to accept their probably deaths, and though he kept the memories close, he moved on. That said, after such destruction he never felt at ‘home’ anywhere and so has spent his life carefully making his way between the various holdouts of humanity.

_{[ ❇ ] M I S C E L L A N E O U S}

---

_Gear

• G24(t) --- [Loaded] 5 Rounds [Spare Clip] (x2) 5 Rounds Per [Ammunition Pouch] 20 Rounds Loose
• Mle. 1935A --- [Loaded] 7 Rounds [Spare Magazine] (x1) 7 Rounds [Ammunition Pouch] 21 Rounds Loose
• Hatchet
• Knife
• Small Toolkit --- Adjustable Wrench, locking pliers, Screwdriver

_Skills

• Sharpshooter
• Tracker
• Survivalist
• Salvager
• Multilingual --- Naturally he is fully fluent in French, and understands more German than he can speak. He also has a smattering of English.

_Other

Dialogue Color: DodgerBlue

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

Once Mike shoots down her boat idea (:p) Eliza' go for the lighthouse.

@Slim Shady
It wouldn't be implausible that the Security Office may also have an emergency fire door somewhere in the back. If that's the case we could slip out that way

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

^{@Delphio@Vaeltaja}

While the others talked around them, Eliza found herself looking down at Elijah’s arm; more specifically at the bandage around it that was started to look a little pink in places. ”Hey,” She said, nudging him in the shoulder. ”I wanna take another look at your arm. I think I saw a bit of glass still in it before.” Not really giving the man a say in the matter, she put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the large wall mounted first-aid kit.

Unlatching the case and swinging it open, she was impressed with what she saw. It was not emergency trauma kit, but it was very well stocked. From the kit she pulled out some tweezers, cotton swabs, a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a pair of bandage scissors and some aspirin. Sure it did have some heavier pain killers, but Elijah didn’t exactly seem like he was suffering greatly. Setting it all on a near-by counter top, she then poked about the office eventually turning up a cupboard full of plastic wrapped shirts, identical to the one the security guard was wearing. Snagging one, she returned to Elijah.

”I’m no Medic,” She said, trying to lighten the tone a bit, but not doing too well; off to their side, the security guard was suggesting they lift something from a motor pool and make for the city. ”That said, I’ve done plenty of stuff like this…bit of an operational hazard in my job.” Holding up an arm, she showed a plethora of small to medium scars of various age; on that ran across the back of her hand was still a bit pink-ish and had the last traces of scabs.

Unwrapping Elijah’s arm, she used the tweezers to take a cotton swab and dab the blood that had welled out of the cuts; fortunately it seemed to just be some capillary bleeding and nothing more. Ditching the bloodied swab, she apologized and then started poking about in the cut, eventually being rewarded with two small chunks of safety glass. Another bit of probing to make sure she didn’t miss anything, she then took a new swab, dosed it with a tiny bit of alcohol and used that to clean the wound.

Once all that was done, she tore open the plastic bag and then used the scissors to cut the shirt into a few strips. One was folded up and placed over the cut, before the other was used to wrap Elijah’s arm much more securely than either version of the previous bandage. ”There, that should hold you until a real medical type can have a look at it.”

That all done, she moved a bit closer to the others. ”Hey I’m Eliza, can I just throw my two cents in?” She said by way of an introduction. ”If this place full of rich-ish tourists got blindsided by whatever the fuck that is.” She added, waving towards the door most of them had just recently piled through. ”Do you really think the local gov is doing anything? Shit goes bad, the tourists are usually the first ones out…bad PR if they get killed and all that. My money says either the local gov is either already dead or under siege; I don’t know how many folks lived in Morseby, but I’m guessing that place make here look like a spa day”

She started pacing back and forth as her nerves jangled. She was terrified, much like everyone else no doubt, but she knew she needed to stay calm, they all did if they wanted to stand a chance in hell of getting out. As she moved by the security guard, she stopped and looked at him. ”What about a port, or a marina? We get there, get a boat…something long range, and head out to sea. It’d have radios and all that, and I know the Aussies or the Kiwis generally handle SAR work in these parts, so we’d just need to start transmitting a distress.”

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

@Zoey White You know he's doomed though... in zombie flicks security guards rarely last much longer than the 'selfish asshole' types...

[closed]

^{@Undying Curiosity}

Aden listened to the other talk about their Abilities, but her eyes lit up at Zyrick’s demonstration. ”Guess I should throw my two cents in now…” She chuckled, taking a drag from her little cigar. ”I’m Aden…Aden Chernus if you feel the need to be formal.” An amused snort gave her opinion on that detail. ”Truth is…I’m not totally sure what my Ability does.” For a form with no eyes, Gamas really could glower with the best of them.

”I mean,” She went on, amused by her ‘companions’ annoyance. ”My Spirit has, in it’s own way, tried to explain it to me…but…” She made a whistling noise as she waved a hand over her head. ”The Idiot Version, is that I can project a rather powerful blast of energy from my left hand here.” Holding out her left, she turned it palm up to show a tattoo on the palm of her hand. ”Gamas, my Spirit, got me to get this as it acts as a ‘focus’ the energy at whatever I point my palm at. There’s no sound or light, like someone that can use fire or lightening and such; I just raise my hand and boom target is dead, usually coughing up blood.” Lowering her hand, she flexed it a few times before letting in fall to her side.

”Armour, hide, walls…don’t matter, it’ll go right through without really leaving a mark unless I really push it. That said it’s sort of a one shot deal. Takes a lot of effort to use and can be anywhere from a few hour to a few days before I get another shot.” Reaching back, she patted the butt of her scattergun once again. ”That’s where the big iron comes it…speaking of…” She reached into a pouch on her hip and pulled out both a shot and a slug shell. ”Hey Zyrick, can you dupe something like these?”