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    1. Wired 12 yrs ago

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Happy Birthday! And maybe more importantly, happy doing awesome shit on a brand new laptop! :D
"I'm putting my gun away, but I draw fast. Any sudden movements, if I even think you'll harm anyone of us - I will kill you. Marshall stated - in a completely serious tone. "But worry not, I'm not going to cap you the way things are going. You seem like a decent man."

“Thanks. That sounds good to me. Keeps things easy to understand.” Conell spoke, smiling at the last bit. No one had ever called him a decent man before. The best compliment he had ever gotten was when another prisoner described him as “a cunt with principles, as fucked as they are”. It actually fit him pretty well, now that he thought on it.

This bloke was real smart. Every time he made a move that might unsettle the situation he compromised to keep things under control. It had Conell wondering what he did before the outbreak. He hoped he wasn't a screw. Not that he hated all screws, but enough were a complete bunch of assholes that they had spoiled the bunch. He did his best to stay still while he was searched, but flashbacks to getting ghosted from prison to prison and getting searched every fucking time almost set him off. Luckily he kept himself under control and a minute or so later he was being handed his weapons back.

"You're not a liar, you had nothing else. I admire that."

“I'm not a fan of lying. It's weak.” Conell spoke somewhat bitterly, believing in his own words. In his experience liars were bitches; weak, pitiful men.

"Marshall. Marshall Scott." Marshall spoke, outstretching his hand.

Conell shook the man's hand, somewhat foreignly. He couldn't recall ever doing so before. It wasn't much of a practice in prison. Too many people would have used it as an opportunity to stick a shiv in your throat.

“Good to meet you man, I'm Conell.”
The man who held the revolver told his friend to stay, he didn't want Conell trying anything cute and stabbing up his friend or taking him hostage, and he had to admit, the thought had crossed his mind. What could he say? He was a violent man. He wasn't planning on it however, his actual intentions were pure, he did want in with the group.

"Okay. Honestly? I don't think you're gonna' shoot or stab him if he came close. But you know what it's like. Not taking any chances. I only ask for one more small bit of co-operation friend. Turn around, and lay all your weapons in front of you. Don't worry, I'm not going to steal your SMG. The way I see it, is that - that gun is precious to you, much like my .44 is to me. I won't take it, or your blade or your Glock. I simply want to see if you're willing to co-operate. I'm a man of my word, friend. You'll have to trust me on that."

“Fuck it. Fine.” Conell said under his breath. Doing what the man had said to do went against everything his instincts were screaming at him. His instincts weren't always right though. He had gotten into a lot of trouble and had went through a lot of pain because he listened primarily to them in the past.

“I'll move slow. Keep your finger off the trigger, will you brother?”

Conell took out the pistol first, dropping it immediately behind him. Then he went to his blade, pulling it from it's sheathe and dropping it onto the ground. Finally he took his MP5 off, not actually touching the gun but pulling the sling from over his head and shoulder and placing it on the ground.

“That's all I've got weapon wise... I'm in no position to glass you with the jars in my backpack.” Conell chuckled.
"Depends!" One man shouted back. "Depends on who wants to be friends!" He shouted as Conell continued to walk forward. "I'll say this the easy way. If you pull out one of your weapons on us? No. We're not friendly. If you don't and you're not an ass hole, yeah. We're friendly." He stated.

“I've been called an asshole far too many times to make any promises on that front brother, but I'm certainly not planning on pulling anything. For one, you've got what looks like a .44 pointed at me and I like my head how it is. I don't want it turned into a canoe. Two, I need people right now. I came here for a vehicle so I could travel and it looks like that's what you're doing. Therefore, I want what you want.”

“We don’t want trouble.” Spoke the other bloke. “We just want to take our stuff and drive out of here. There’s no need for a confrontation.”

“I'm not looking for confrontation, I'm looking for friends. Trust me, I'm not in the habit of going into confrontations unprepared, that's why my MP5 is hanging loose on my back, my Glock is tucked in my jeans and my blade is still in it's sheathe. No confrontation meant here at all man.” Conell spoke levelly, his voice sounding as peaceful as it ever went.

"If you're friendly, I'd tell you we've got a group - must be around 10 of us. Don't know the number off the top of my head. But we're not taking in dead-weight. If you are beneficial to us - if you can pull your own weight? If you're useful to us? We'll have you with us. If that's what you're after."

The man was smart. He offered peace but kept his gun trained. A wise attitude.

“I can handle myself, but the only way I'm going to benefit you is if you give me a chance...”

It was then that Conell did something he couldn't imagine himself doing. Was he desperate for people or looking for death? He couldn't tell, but he knew it was stupid, risky, but he did it anyway.

“You there.” He said, nodding towards the bloke with the machete. “You don't seem to have a piece. Take my pistol... A, uh, peace offering.”

Conell very slowly raised his hands, placing them on the back of his head and turning around. There tucked into his waistband was the Glock. The handle visible as it had been tucked with his t-shirt for easy access.

“I'm going to have to insist on keeping the S.M.G, but I'll keep it on my back.”
Good times. Ha-ha, first time I RP'ed I posted in the IC before doing anything else, I was taught pretty well though. :D
I do not think so.
Oh, crap, I forgot to say; sorry about your dog mate.
Anyway, I guess this is no more now. It was good writing with you guys.
I shall wait. :)
Conell had been walking for quite a while now and apart from the few walkers he had come across there wasn't all that much to see. He had definitely grown tired of this part of the county. It was time to move on once again, and for that he would need a vehicle. First though he had one more place to have a quick look through. It was a small convenience store, but who knew. Maybe it hadn't been thoroughly looted yet, or maybe whoever owned the place before the goodness hit the fan liked to keep a revolver behind the counter. Conell certainly wouldn't mind finding a little side-arm. That was enough premeditation for him, it was time to loot that shit.

Walking in through the unlocked front door he started working his way down the two rows that the shop had. It had been pretty thoroughly cleaned out already unfortunately with most every shelf standing empty. Conell's eyes lit up when he saw a few jars of baby food still on one of the shelves however. Those things were invaluable in a situation such as the one America seemed to be in. They held all sorts of nutrients and shit. Didn't taste half bad either. With the actual store scavenging done Conell headed behind the till and into the back room. Hopefully there was something half decent hidden back there. He didn't get a chance to look however because as soon as he walked in some asshole was swinging a golf club at his head like he was Tiger fucking Woods or something. It was violence time. He wouldn't be able to draw his weapon up before the man took another swing so he would just have to put him down as quickly and as brutally as possible. Conell reacted with lightning speed, ducking under the club and throwing a powerful punch at the right side of the man’s ribs before coming back up and wrapping his hands around the left side of the man’s head, using his body weight and pulling it as fast and as hard as he could towards the door frame and cracking the blokes head on it. With that the man fell but Conell wasn't done. He could still be dangerous. As he fell onto his back Conell followed up, raising his foot up and bringing it down on the man's face once, twice, three, four times. His face was battered and covered in blood. His nose was definitely broken and his jaw may have been too. As long as his skull wasn't cracked by the door frame he should probably end up surviving though.

He was making this really horrible, hard to breathe, in extreme pain noise as well. It was kind of like the sound some walkers made but more intense. Conell had heard it before though, once or twice. It was the sound some men who had been really badly beaten and were having trouble breathing made.

“Yo, prick, in your nose and out your mouth.”

“Uuuuunnnttth.” The dude wasn't getting it.

“Breathe in your nose and out your mouth!” Conell yelled. He was starting to lose it a little, but then the man started doing what he said and quieted down, getting whatever fucking state he was in under control.

“Good lad.” With that Conell started looking around, there wasn't much to take. Or rather there wasn't anything to take. Whoever had owned the store probably took all the shit that meant anything when they left. With that done Conell started searching the floored man, his blade in his hand.

“Move and I'll finish the job.”

He didn't have anything on him really, a small Glock made handgun. A Glock 19 maybe. Conell checked the chamber and magazine. Four rounds. He then tucked it into the back of his jeans. The man looked to be around thirty. He had what seemed like black hair and a goatee, though the colour was hard to tell in the dim light.

“Right. I'm going to leave now. I'm taking your handgun but I'm gonna leave you this one jar of baby food here. Eat it when you're feeling up to it. Now, I'm sparing you because you didn't try and shoot me, but if you come after me I will kill you, do you understand? Good.” Conell smiled, getting to his feet and walking to the door.

“In the future mate, try and use brains before bullets, so to speak. Trust me, this lone wolf shit ain't that fun.”
About an hour of walking later Conell found himself coming up on a gas station. He needed a reliable vehicle to travel in and this would be the place to find one, or so he thought. As he got closer though he spotted people and went into a crouch. He really needed a car, he didn't want to walk and scavenge for who knows how long. He needed to move fast and quick. He couldn't risk taking down three people though. There could be even more that he couldn't see. The only thing to do was to approach. He tried to make himself look friendly, but with even more blood now staining his white t-shirt and carrying three weapons it was a feat a little hard to pull off. Still he tried. There were two men and a little girl. Maybe they were fairies? The men he meant. Whatever they were the girl was a good sign. He doubted they would outright execute him him in front of her, but there was always that chance. He hoped this wasn't a mistake.

“Yo!” He yelled. “You lads friendly?”
Don't worry, he is very aggressive but he does have a trigger. Someone else has to do something to set him off. :P
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