Status

Recent Statuses

9 mos ago
Current Alternatively - and now, hear me out - one could avoid looking up photos of such eldritch horrors ... maybe?
3 likes
10 mos ago
Back for my bi-yearly visit. Now where did I leave that thingy-ma-jig? Anyone seen that mish-masher? I think it looks like motivation or something!
4 likes
3 yrs ago
I now identify as a Master Procrastinator. Thank you all, and good night.
1 like
3 yrs ago
New medical term: Dizzy mummy (condition of patient when world is spinning and only treatment is confinement to bed). I hate being sick...
3 yrs ago
@Vampiretwilight: Funny indeed. Now to make it into a roleplay here...let the madness and sassy Narrator commence.
1 like

Bio

-The bio will be added once the profile user can be bothered to finish it. Right now he's probably busy doing nothing and stressed about more. Please come back later. Have a nice day.

Most Recent Posts


Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Second Deck (Personal Cabin) -> Second Deck (Staircase)
Skills: Social Cameleon



The meal that the steward had brought him had been an enjoyement to eat. Really, it had filled a spot in him that he didn't think was that deep. The burning sensation that still clung to his stomach was perhaps partly to blame for it, but the pain was by now bareable thanks to a good rest and a healty meal like that. Mahendra was satisfied at least, and neatly placed the plate on a vacant tablespot for a maid or someone else to take it later. He himself was going to freshen himself up after his bed rest, his hair and moustache sticking out in odd angles and shapes while he did smell a bit iffy himself.

One fresh scoop of water in his face, hair and certain other bodily parts later, Mahendra stepped out of his quarters which had served him so well and started walking towards the area around the stairs. As he walked, he noticed the sound of entertainment in the background of the more audible conversations going on around. Most of the passengers took little interest in the musicians and whatenot, and focused more on talking amongst themselves and gambling. Gambling, a concept Mahendra had born witness to in England during his stay there, but never really gotten a good understanding off. He was no stranger to taking risks to earn a quick buck, he was a trader's son after all. But to such an extent that people were willing to throw away their hard-earned money?

Mahendra didn't say or project any of those thoughts outwards to the people around him however, and instead tried to casually slip into a conversation a small group of gentlemen were having around the stairs. He had a good idea that Lauren would be checking up on him sooner or later, and that probably meant she would pass those stairs. So he would wait for his kind and caring lady-friend there, while he joined in on a conversation about the intricate prospects of the future of cricket and the British Empire. The cricket was the main subject, however.


Richard Barker




Location: Main Deck (Open Air Lounge)
Location: Observation, People-reading



Richard waited for Faye to join him on the Main Deck as he poked his nosy eyes around the deck, watching the varying group of people congregating there. It was like a subway going straight through the various ethnic quarters of New York, but with more Little Italy and Egypt, Greenpoint and Lapskaus Boulevard, and less Harlam and Chinatown. There weren't really anything sticking out to him as the deck was so varied from the beginning, but as he felt Faye join him, he saw something that caught his interest. A light-eyed man standing in the corner of the open air lounge, holding what looked like a journal. A journal that really didn't look like belonged in his hands. It was too femine for him, and in that time and age that meant two things; either he had taken it from someone else, or he was going down the other lane so to say.

Richard's instincts placed his bet on the first horse in this case.

"Do that, just be careful. I'll check out our friend with the journal." Richard said back to Faye as she went for the lone-cop routine, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and starting to fiddle with one without lighting it. "Call out if it gets hairy. Watch yourself, Faye." With that, Richard began calmly walking in the general direction of the Lady-Journal Man, hoping to get closer to him. Observe first, then go in.


Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (D10 -> F6)
Skills: None




It was sounding like they had a plan. Now they had two people who possibly could donate blood to Captain Sky-high, and Manny seemed to think that they'd be better off doing the blood transfusion tomorrow instead of that same night, instead getting some much needed and duly deserved rest. Alexander could get behind that plan, he was tired too. They all were, and sweating like just-deployed soldiers under fire for the first time. "We can't do much in the dark anyway like you say, so it's up to you Manny. Who do you think is best for the transfusion? Bea or me?" Alexander asked Manny, letting the doctor decide. He himself was more than willing to donate, but he knew from experience to listen to what the medic told you, less you wanted to die.

Then Thalia chimmed in with a plan for getting light and air-circulation, when Mugsy had failed on the first part. Alexander thought it sounded workable at first, starting to limp over to where Thalia's bag where and pulling it clumsly to the fireplace. "Mind helping our girls, Manny?" He'd do it himself, but having two legs was by those days a standard for helping others with two feet. But the plan that Thalia had given suddenly left a sour taste in his mouth once he reached the fireplace. It had been too dark to see, but standing closer he thought of something else. "Wait...don't break the window." he suddenly warned the others. "I feel breaking a window is a bad idea, and we don't need it. Look." He continued, dropping Thalia's bag and reaching up to something above the fireplace. "We can vent the room with this. It's better this way."



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: E3 (outside) -> B4 (Fishing Camp inside)
Skills: Scouting, Sword Fighting, Close quarter combat




Nigel looked at Erika behind her back with a look of "Well excuse me, Princess." after she stated it was of course clear. If he wasn't taking precautions and checking where they were going, even if they had already been there, then he felt they were still walking in blind. There was always the chance that another horde of undead had wandered into her 'cleared' area. But Nigel "Hadrian" didn't push the issue as the group made their way into the camp with Wayne's homemade torch. He was tired, sweaty and in need of a good night's sleep, and as a teacher he knew when to pick his battles. This wasn't one of them, not now.

Wayne on the other hand decided that he was having the equivalent of a 3rd Punic War with the door, and forced his way in like a war elephant. Loud as one too. But when he announced it was clear, Nigel went in after Erika to follow-up with the clearing. Erika quickly found medical packs that they certainly could have a use for. "That's great. Let's keep looking and making sure we have the building for ourselves." Nigel said back to her, though not before he too heard the creaking floorboard. He too kneeled down and started to pull up the board, which in turn revealed a stash of canned foods and water bottles. "Fortuna est impar ac pauci, it would seem. Now we just need to secure this place for the night, and we're all set. It was good we stumbled upon you then, Erika."


Robert Adler


Location: Chicago (Grimaldi Books)
Skills: Research, Law



Robert had been working with these kinds of cases before for a very long time. According to himself it had been for far too long, but whether he liked it or not he had seen a lot of what that line of work had to offer. Which in itself didn't mean helicopter chases, snooping backstage the next reunion of Genesis or anything like that. No, he had just investigated cases in many different shades of grey. Be either car-insurance, life-insurenace or just insurance for that one Ming-vase that really was made in Taiwan, they all had the same motives and all that jazz; either they were after they were after the money, or their loss was geniune. His employer was of the latter, but that's where the similarities stopped.

First of she was his landlord, and second he was working against the insurance companies. But it still involved paperwork. Loads of it.

The papers and photograps strewn on the small table in the antique book store were of all types and contents, though not unknown to him. Proofs of ownership, reciepts and purchases, papers probably written in ink twice his age and much more. The photograps of the supposed book, followed by the passionate and angry spouting in what had to be Italian drove several nails into the proverbial coffin of one of his theories, for now at least. The book that the insurance companies were getting their pencil-pushers excited for, had really been stolen. Now he just had to prove it.

"No it's fine. Having shouting in the background really makes the little grey ones work." Robert said back to Adelaide after she apologized for her rant with the Vatican, not looking up at her as he continued to read through a bundle of paper concerning several other purchases she had made earlier. They looked legit too, so he put them down as she came over. He wasn't being sarcastic in annoyance or anger, he just was like that. And it was monday. "Coffee? Yeah, that would be good. Thanks Adelaide." He shot her a brief smile as he looked up at her, before looking back at the table and the papers. "I'm not done yet, but these all look good. The companies won't get much on their case from these..."

Robert was interrupted by the door opening. Since this was the type of shop you don't pop in just before the Hawks vs. Red Wings game started for a quick bag of chips, he instintively looked up from the paperwork and at the door. Two large, tough-looking guys walked in asking Adelaide about murders and if they could talk. Robert wasn't sure what to take from scene, except that it was odd. Perhaps a bit intimidating even? He wouldn't leave her just yet though, who knew what was going to happen.


Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Second Deck (Personal Cabin)
Skills: N/A



"Uh...hello?" Mahendra stirred in his bed as he woke up from his slumber, however long it may have lasted. It could have been hours, days even. It certainly felt like that as he slowly forced his eyes open with what little strenght he could muster in his waking moments. Why had he awoken from his dream about...he couldn't even remember now that he had woken up, but he did hear the sound of knocking on his door. "Please give me a moment, Sir or Madam." Mahendra called out to whoever was standing outside his door. He pushed himself up from the bed, revealing a small, wet spot on his pillow from where he had drooled in his sleep. Though he couldn't remember falling asleep in that direction?

Mahendra got his wits about him slowly but surely, and walked to the door of his cabin and opening it. Outside stood a man, a steward most likely, asking if he was Mr. Zalil. Mahendra groggily confirmed the steward's question, and only then noticed the neatly packed plate of food he was holding. "Ah yes, that is very kind of you Sir. I was told that my aquantiances would reserve some for me, thank you." Mahendra thanked the steward and accepted the plate, stepping back into his cabin and closing the door. As soon as he unwrapped his meal he could physically feel his stomach shake and rumble. Mahendra hadn't eaten for a long time, and he was famished. It was nothing too fancy, the typical variant of Egyptian meals that he as an Indian and Hindu was allowed to enjoy. He smiled as he sat down on his bed, thankful for the little effort from his companions that made him feel happy. Happy and hungry. He should go out and find them later on to thank them. But first, dinner.


Richard Barker




Location: Lower Deck (Dining Area) -> Main Deck (Open Air Lounge)
Location: None



Richard narrowed his eyes as he looked at Faye telling him he should have looked after himself, being the great detective and all. Was she trying to crack jokes, or was she throwing that same type of venom back at him that he'd thrown at her? Perhaps both, but she did have a point, which in itself annoyed him and made him look less annoyed at her; he should have seen it himself. For Christ sake, how does one not notice that your sleeve is on fire? Perhaps he wasn't as great a detective as he thought. That would explain why he still hadn't found her...

"Sure kid, sure. Perhaps I should stop smoking after all?" Richard said in passing, taking one last look at the crowd down below deck. Sure there were American in Egypt, that wasn't really strange. The whole craze about mummies and pyramids was big in America, like everywhere else. Perhaps they would poke their noses around fellow Yanks later. But for now, as Faye laughed at her own joke that Richard would rather not be the punch-line of, Richard walked to the stairs, pulled out his ticket without searching for it for too long and showed it, before ascending up to the Main Deck. "So how do ya want to do this, Faye? Do the talking together or apart? In case you get sick of the smoke signals or whatever."


Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (D7 -> D10)
Skills: Electrionic engineering, Jury-rigging electronics




Things were looking up for the group, at least in regards to ensuring Thalia's recovery. Manny was positive that they only needed a set of needles to do the tranfusion well enough not to screw it up, but also that they needed the right type of blood. Which was a given obviously, even Mugsy knew that. He knew Jude had been drilled the knowledge of what happens if a pasient recieves the wrong blood-type, even for short amounts of time, and Alexander had seen their medic make sure he didn't fuck it up on the people he tried to save. And Alexander wasn't about to do the same, and gave his answer to the three others.

"O Positive. I'm a match." Alexander said as he got up from the floor with sweaty palms and a deep breath. He really had to stop getting up and down from the floor so much, he was getting to old for that shit. It was getting pretty dark, and it was doing so pretty fast, covering the house and its interior in darkness akin to the leaves of jungle trees in South east Asia. And worst of all was that Thana still was MIA. "I hope so too, Thalia, I hope so. But she's Navy, they are tough crackers." Alexander hoped so at least. "I'll be right back, just going to search for some light."

Alexander soon was off searching the rest of the house for anything to light it up, more specifically anything electronic he could jury-rigg with his 9-volt battery. But the darkness that he tried to fight back made the search fruitless as the Battle of Hamburger Hill. The old veteran couldn't find anything useful to his electronic skills. He missed fiddling with electrionics, and briefly thought back to the Battle of Eden he had taken part in. Radio-contact with the cavarly, that was part of what had made the operation a relative success. Relative...Alexander limped back to the others, leaning against the wall in the hallway as he looked at them with tired and perhaps dissapointed eyes. "If we don't find any light here, we might as well move all our things into one of the rooms, secure it and get some sleep."



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: D4 -> E3
Skills: Scouting, Survival




So Nigel was getting on Hank's nerves with his own game? Nigel "Hadrian" lifted the side of his mouth into a brief smile, perhaps even a grin, before continuing down the road to their awaiting Fortuna, whatever she might have in stock for them. Perhaps it would be a good idea not to call him by those two words again, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to do something about his own nickname, "Sporticus". Instead of calling back to Hank, Nigel acknowledged Erika's own introduction and made his way down the road alongside that legion if misfits.

It was getting dark, so it was no wonder that the Neo-Roman had difficulties scouting their surroundings. But he tried nonetheless, stopping in the road leading up to what he presumed Erika had meant was the fishing camp and taking a look with his binoculars around them. It felt heavy to hold up against his eyes in the humidity and armour he was wearing; everything was starting to feel heavy really, but he had to keep soldiering on like the legionaire he was, or face Hades. Looking around Nigel got the impression that nothing of danger was in their immediate area, which was at least not a bad sign. "Coast looks clear." Nigel stated, putting down his binoculars and following Erika. He really hoped he could take of his armour soon and get some rest, hopefully without being called History Channel names again.

Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Second Deck (Personal Cabin)
Skills: N/A



The enveloping feeling of being consumed by unknown forces had by now been replaced by familiar shapes and forms now behaving normally around Mahendra. They were still in some sense foreign to him, but he himself was managing to comprehend their strangeness, even take certain shapes himself to align to them so much that they recognized him as one of them. Them being people, he would slowly understand as his dream kept unfolding. Saraswati had left him for now, but he could stand his ground by himself. He was ready to step into his place in that world.

The next parts of his pain- and burn-indused dream was a whole lot more grounded that the lucid hallucinations beforehand. He recognized several people he knew in the real world; His professor and several students from Oxford University, his wife back in India who smiled at him and gave him the sense that she supported him, and the first people he worked with in England as a geologist. It was a comforting sight to see the people he knew and trusted, but also missed. Some he hadn't seen for months and years, some he might never see again. As Mahendra turned away from them, he saw another group of people with him; the so-called Fellowship. The group of unlikely companions in Egypt now on some unknown but grand quest to solve ancient mystery that affected them. Some of the figures were clearer than others, amongst them being the Lord Mayor as a person of stature and authority, and Lauren as the kind lady that had taken care of him.

When would he wake up to once again see them?


Richard Barker




Location: Lower Deck (Dining Area)
Location: None



"Where have I heard of that before?" Richard let the question hang in the smoke-filled air of the lower deck, not being able but to feel the sense of deja-vu roll over him as he took another good long drag of his cigarette. When were you going to snap? You all didn't know her. She wouldn't do something like that. I was going find out what happened. Richard, the hard-boiled detective that was slowly but surely becoming that rotting egg, had heard all of that before. Of course people don't believe that they loved and close ones can do "something like that". Why would they, they didn't know that they were lying through their teeth. People rarely show their true selves to others, and even then people forget those parts when they seek to rescure their idealized version of an angel.

The worst part was that Richard himself had been like that...still was like that. His little girl wouldn't just run away, no matter what people told him. And he would not stop looking for her. Never. It was the burning passion of his soul those days, the only thing warm in him perhaps. Or one of them.

With the call to put away their plates and Faye doing so, Richard was soon to follow. But finally his usually observant eyes snapped back to action, watching as...HIS SLEEVE WAS ON FIRE! "Jesus H. Christ!" Richard didn't even think what to do, and just grabbed the nearest glass or bottle and pour the remaining liquid on his sleeve. The fire wasn't difficult to put out, but Richard was nonetheless standing up, breathing heavily as he wondered just what the hell had happened. But with the obvious looks from the other passengers locked on him, he briefly gave them looks back and put away his tray and glass as he told them "الى ماذا تنظرين؟*"

With his tray and glass put away, Richard was again with Faye as she asked him if he found the lack of clues odd. Richard gave her a look of something of a mix of annoyance and disbelief, though he answered her question first. "I find it odd? Not really; any lack of clues point to someone wanting to cover their tracks, and eventually they'll screw up and drop a whole wheelbarrow of it." Richard's answer was quick, but turned just as quickly into a sarcastic question. "You know what I do find odd? The fact that you didn't tell me that my sleeve was on fire. When were you going to tell me that?" Richard asked, but his venomous words soon lost their bite as he tried to calm down and determined to turn back to the case. "Let's go upstair, find your army boys. We might ask them some questions, and I need to air out this singe."



Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (D7) -> Garage (D7)
Skills: N/A




"Seriously, nothing?" Alexander asked Manny when he came back with no medical supplies, first with a look of doubt, then of concern as he realized what it might mean. If Manny couldn't find anything to use for a blood transfusion for Thalia, she was at a greater risk of not making it through what lay in front of her. Alexander knew perfectly well what blood-loss did to one, and if Thalia didn't make it...Alexander wouldn't allow it. The one-legged veteran stumbled back up on his foot, looking from Thalia who was still, well, being her drug-high self, to Beatrice who took kindly care of her, and finally Manny. "Keep her comfortable, you two. I'll go take a look again."

Alexander limped out to the garage, a mix of images from near and distant pasts rolling through his mind as he tried to remember. He'd seen Jude, they medic, do his best to help wounded soldiers out in the field, one time taking part in the blood transfusion himself. It wasn't as fancy as it was just before the world ended, but that meant it perhaps could be jury-rigged. And so Alexander rumaged as best he could through the garage, thinking back to when he searched it earlier. And he was lucky. He found a lot of tubing which he had disregarded earlier, which surely could be used! Alexander took some of the tubing with his free hand, and limped back to the kitchen to search some more.

"Here Manny, this can work." Alexander left the tubing on the kitchen counter for Manny to inspect, before sliding down on the floor and doing some more searching. He was sure he had seen some more when he found the water...bingo. Out from one of the cabinets, Alexander pulled out a few mason yars, almost perfect to use for an old school blood transfusion. It would work. It had to work, for Thalia. "Give me a hand with these. This'll help, now we just need the rest. How is she holding up? Does she still have water?"



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: C7 -> D4
Skills: Scouting




Nigel gave a look of annoyance at Hank's suggestion for him to roll Robert of the road, or not. Was it really neccecary to dig it in like that? Nigel hadn't known him for long, not even an hour, but it still pained him enough. "I'm not going back there either, Shovel Knight. He's dead, and we got to keep moving." Nigel told him as they passed each other, having strapped his shield on his back, holding his Gladius with one hand and Robert's backpack in the other. Of all the things he'd wish Robert had, was a sunhat, cap or anything to give some shade. Even if it was humid as Poseidon's buttocks, it would help.

Going past their new stranger to the legion, Erica, Nigel slowed down a little to look at her as she gave a heads up about another body up front. "Let's hope her loss was not in vain. I don't want that to be a permanent thing happening." Nigel said in the passing, but putting on a friendlier face as he looked at Erica one more time. "Call me Hadrian, by the way. It's good to see people not going after oneself again."

Nigel "Hadrian" then kept moving up the road, even making it past Wayne as he was doing nothing. In completely silence, perhaps oblivious to the world around him, Wayne was simply walking down the road. It was as odd an sight as teaming up with none the less than three survivors in one day, perhaps more disturbing though. But Nigel tried to focus his attention around him instead, though he didn't see anything else moving beside themselves. He did however see the line of undead lying on the road, once again dead like their souls with Hades were meant to. "How far is it to this fishing camp you're talking about? I really need to get this armor off me. And yes, it is real and sweaty as it looks like." Nigel said back to the rest of the group, the last part referring more to Wayne's and Hank's bantering about his Roman equiptment. And now that they were seemingly out of imminent danger, Nigel was starting to loose up ever so slightly. Or it was really that he was as sweaty as he looked like. Wearing armour like that really was a pain in the ass in a swamp.

Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Second Deck (Personal Cabin)
Skills: N/A



Dreams are an interesting concept to think about, isn't it? A state of mind for the human body to freely sail from the oceans of reality and fiction, but never be entirely certain which is which. Mahendra's case was perhaps no different, as the shores of England warped into a mixture of colours and shapes he could only relate to something divine and ultimate, yet completely comprehensible for him. It was as if he felt the presence of someone...something watching carefully over him as Mahendra involuntarirly jumped into the sea of a thousand colours, into the unknown.

The bottomless chasm of unfathomable, yet tangible matter gave way to the sound of voices speaking in strange tounges. Mahendra did not understand, but could slowly feel the air below him evaporate, only to be replaced by the firm feel of something to sit on. The ground? A chair? A bench, with a long table before it. A lecture hall. The Indian man, formerly a merchant's son and a soldier, was now a student, but a student of what? The tounges, their now visible eyes all looked to Mahendra for answers to questions he didn't understand. But the presence he felt before now revealed themselves to him; Saraswati, the Goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge, held her wise eyes over him and helped him to understand. Earth? The ground, deep below...He now understood, and could finally answer in that same tounge.

Yes, he knew the answer.


Richard Barker




Location: Lower Deck (Dining Area)
Location: Observation, People-Reading



What the lower levels of the steamboat lacked in class and the strict social order of the upper money-grabbers of the social elite, it more than made up for in volume, enjoyment and oddities. Richard too noticed the snake-duo, giving Faye a quick look before watching the snake slither around the women to the sound of the music. "Looks like it. Last time I saw anything like that, an old lady thought it was going to eat her dog. They're harmless, at least like that." Richard assured Faye, before she answered him about her background. That was the cue for him to be quiet, listen and enjoy his first meal of the day.

The food and beer was better than expected, but then again how low had his expectatins been when he first took that job? Probably lower than a working girl's standars on a cold December night in Time Square during Mass, but hey it was better than eating out of a dumbster. While Faye began to tell her story, Richard combined his eating and listening with looking around. For what? People with less than good intentions, so to say. Who knew what types of people roamed that Deck, and how attractive Faye and Richard might have seen to someone looking for a quick buck. But his bad-guy scanning provided nothing, perhaps due to his attention being drawn back to what Faye told him.

"You mean that she was your sister? The so-called Devil Murder?" Richard knew that he was stating the obvious with his question, but he had read about that murder when it first happened. Gruesome affair it was, even if it possibly couldn't be true devil worship. Having finished his plate and most of his beer, Richard pulled out a cigarette and searched for a quick way to light it. A candle to his right would suffice, and he turned back to Faye now with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Was it getting hot in there? Probably the spicy food.

"It's okay. I'm sorry about her, Faye. Like you say, it's probably more to it than simple Devil worship if she had her wits about her. Probably not anything occult though, just some frantic way of trying to lead the police on a wild goose chase. Damn good one too, gave them more tricks than a car full of monkeys." Richard suggested as he finished his beer and took another drag of his burning cigarette. But damn it felt warmer than usual, and more smoking too. What Richard failed miserably to notice was the fact that his right sleeve was on fire from the candle. Liar, liar, sleeve's on fire!


Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (G9 -> D7)
Skills: N/A




With Manny finally awake, up and running, Alexander was feeling more confident that the Thalia-situation was getting under control. Somehow. Sometime. And he agreed with Manny's conclusion in regards to Thana, at least half-way. "That's true, but being out there in the dark is never a good idea. Trust me, been there, done that." Alexander said back to Manny, following behind him halfway to the table before turning in another direction. "Go check on our Angel. I'll check the rest of the house for...something. Shout if you need me."

Alexander limped through the house the next hour, his search changing as he made his way through the house. At first he wasn't looking for anything special, but the never-ending sound of THUMP THUD THUMP THUD was starting to get to him. Or perhaps more the thought of him moving so slowly and awkwardly through the house, one step away from falling over like he was some old retiree, of which he wasn't anymore. That's when he started to look for tools and materials. He wanted to make a crutch.

His search for tools fared considerably better than that for materials. Tools he found enough of in the garage, but the house lacked the needed materials to make something sturdy enough to support his weight. He had made it back to the living room with the three others when he realized where to find materials; they were in the middle of an area of construction projects left, right and center. That only meant that it was best to wait until morning, considering the wind was still kicking harder than a Bazooka. Limping to the outwards kitchen counter and slowly sliding down to rest, Alexander brushed the sweat from his frown and looked at the last people he knew to be alive in that world. "Still no can-opener in this house? Use a strong knife, works like magic."



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: C8 -> C9 -> C7
Skills: Survival, Scavenging




While the rest of the group - could they call themselves that by now, a group? They had fought together, sure, but none of them had made it clear to stick together more than they needed. -were prepared to leave Robert, or his body if he was truly dead, Nigel felt it was wrong to do that. Had it been a group of walkers around him, then doing what he was doing now was as stupid as attacking an enemy who's army was built around cavalry while your army was only infantry. But they were out of danger now, so Nigel ignored Wayne's Jesus-comment and gave Erica a quick look before jogging past her towards Robert. "I will check him first. Then I might join."

Nigel "Hadrian" could quickly see what he had already been told, but was doubtful to believe. Robert was indeed dead, with the obvious wound to his head that Erica suggested she'd done. Nigel kneeled down beside his short-lived companion, taking a moment to just look at him and...he didn't know, pray or something? Even if he didn't believe in that himself, he realized the importance of respecting others faith and ways. Especially his students. But he started to just as quickly search his body. He was loyal, but hardened. Robert didn't need his stuff anymore, but they did.

Nigel took what he wanted in Robert's Swissgear backpack, filling it with the Smith & Wesson pistol, the ammunition, the cans of food, duct tape and light sticks. But as Nigel rose up to leave Robert, he looked at him one last time and forced a small smile. "Keep the chips, Robert. I'll be fine." Nigel said quietly to someone who had tried to be his friend, before making his way back to the others with the things he'd taken off Robert. "Thanks to Robert, we don't have to eat bugs at that fishing camp. Now we just need water..."
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet