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The two geeks began dragging Tonya closer to Mr. Johnson even as the teen’s cries grew more desperate, then out of nowhere there was the sound of whizzing metal and a clash of bodies. Tonya felt one of the teenager’s loose his grip on her arm as a masked girl smashed into him. Sensing her chance Tonya jerked and twisted wrenching her second arm free, following up her newfound freedom with a swift kick to the zombie-fied kid’s stomach. For a moment Tonya felt a rush of exhilaration at her small victory a wild grin on her face. It was short lived however. They were still surrounded by glassy-eyed weirdos on every side, and Mr. Johnson had taken notice and was prowling towards them.

“Thank you!” Tonya said in genuine gratitude towards her rescuer. Now that she had more time to stare at the masked hero she couldn’t deny she looked pretty awesome. Similar to a ferret actually. “I probably would’ve been swatted by Mr. Johnsen if you hadn’t shown up, though that still seems like a possibility. Something's wrong with him, and he's dressed up funny.” Tonya glanced around at the massed students pressing in towards them, seeing no way to escape. “You got a plan to get us out of here? Uh, what’s your name anyway?”

In the heat of the moment Tonya had forgotten about her new necklace, and the Miraculous charm it contained. At that second she remembered Ossar’s teachings from only a half hour ago. She had powers too, and presumably a suit, and if it looked anything like her own rescuer it would be pretty great. She touched the necklace, the emblem was hidden beneath her shirt and felt cold pressed against her chest. All she had to do was say the word and she would be able to fight alongside the other masked hero.

“No,” hissed a quiet voice close to her ear. Tonya felt a chill run down her spine at the thought of Ossar’s scaly body hidden in her hair. She hadn’t even felt his presence, having assumed he’d remained in the Miraculous. “Not here, not where the watchful eyes of many are upon you. Hide first, then transform.”

“That’s easier said than done.” Tonya muttered back, unconcerned that she might look insane talking to herself while encircled by an army of glassy-eyed delinquents.

Unless said handout gets destroyed early on. ;)

But I have no problem rewriting the character, I just don't know how a member of the Armored Division would ever be going with the Rangers. I'd just have to write a Anselmo Ranger character instead.

Hm, that's to bad. I would think realistically you'd be able to get much farther on wheels than you'd ever be able to get on foot, even with fuel and overgrowth concerns. But I'll scrap the idea.

That's what I was thinking, a fast, mobile all terrain APC. It would have a heavy machine gun turret and enough room for two crew, and around six or seven passengers, along with storage space for extra equipment and heavy weapons. I was going to call it the Quick Response Tactual Vehicle, or QRTV, and this was the design I was imagining.



Normally it would be used as a quick response and troop transport to defend the outposts or farming district. But in the case of my character it would act as an initial transport for the rangers, and a little extra long range optically aided firepower against big targets.

Hey @Deos Morran, I'm interested in making an Anselmo Armored Division character, one who preferably drives futuristic LAV or BMP style armored vehicles, but I wanted to check with you to make sure what kinds of armored transports Anselmo would have, and how much more advanced would they be?

@Irredeemable
What style of injury would make it difficult to type on a keyboard? Did you cut off your finger?

Is Three Dawg running an advert campaign so people know to tune into his station?

Yeah, we're going to be flying solo in our own little stories for awhile, until someone's characters have the gumption to leave home so we can have interactions.
Things were getting worse. Eric Freeman leaned forward to turn up the radio using his other hand to wipe away the thin layer of sweat that was collecting on his forehead. He was in his kitchen with stacks of plywood cutouts, screws, and stands all ready for swift deployment should the disasters sweeping the world rear their ugly heads in central Texas. Eric wasn’t confident that anything would happen, thus the unbarred windows, but it never hurt to be cautious. His preparations would make putting up the barriers easy enough for even Tonya to quickly achieve in a short notice, on the off chance something happened while he was away from the house. The chances of that seemed unlikely as well however. Freeman hadn’t received a call from his employers since last week, when they canceled his flight into Anchorage, giving him little reason to leave.

A sense of foreboding had fallen over the local community and state as a whole, even despite the lack of any real calamity there. Stores were picked clean of canned goods and survival gear faster than the businesses could restock their warehouses. Eric could clearly see the signs of growing unease, and remained grateful he’d been pre-prepared before any of this went down. He’d felt the same way some years back after all, which was why he became prepared in the first place. Some sixth sense, or stroke of luck prompted him to ensure his place of residence remained his castle of security, a location where he would not become helpless in the event of a disaster. A way to take care of number one first and foremost, and of course Tonya. Admittedly the arrival of his niece six months back threw a wrench into his survival plans, and he’d been forced to accommodate accordingly. Once again thankfully before the outside world went to shit.

Finishing up with the windows Eric set aside his tools and walked into the living room, bringing the radio with him. The device rarely left his side nowadays, and its constant blaring of bad news was making him depressed, but it was necessary. Just the other day he’d heard the report on scientists concerns about Yellowstone, and the monumental catastrophe they predicted it would cause, but it was far away as well, hopefully far enough.

Sitting on the couch was Eric’s tenant, a young man named Peter who looked disheveled and exhausted from lack of sleep. Normally Peter would be at his classes but lately he’d been spending all his time trying again and again to contact his family back in Korea. Over the radio it’d been confirmed that many of the Asian nations had been hit particularly hard by the aftershocks of Toba, and with the world tension at what it was right now the lack of closure haunted the younger man’s every hour.

“Nothing yet?” Eric probed sitting down across from Peter. The tenant shook his head, bouncing his phone on the palm of his hand with a nervous energy. Eric understood, doing nothing, just sitting around and waiting chewed on the nerves. He’d felt the same way when sitting on an aircraft carrier back when he’d been in the Navy, wishing for something to do. “I’m sure they’re alright.” Eric reassured with false optimism. “There’s just something up with the signals, all the towers are busted or, you know….” Invasion, utter destruction, and massive death tolls. All things he couldn’t rightly say out loud to Peter.

“I just hope they’re alive, and safe, and this whole thing would just be a bad memory.” Yawning Peter stood up, rubbing at his eyes. “I can’t stay awake any longer. Please excuse me.”

“You and me and the whole world agree on that one son. Go on, and get yourself some shuteye. You look like you could use it.” Eric insisted. As Peter departed the room Eric refocused his attention on the radio, listening in as the bad news steadily got worse. He had that feeling again, like things were only going to get worse. And maybe, their current situation wouldn't be recalled as a bad memory of global disaster, but as the calm before the storm.

Here you are @Levex321, lemme know if there's anything you'd like changed.

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