Zoey Boey

The Return of Salem

finally got my post down. i really do have no idea how to track someone down so i just assumed facebook is all powerful and helped Mary put some pieces together

The Return of Salem

Mary

@murdoc@Aamaya@cerozer0

Mary watched Natalia walk away for a little bit as she contemplated her task. Okay. Well, she thought, why were they walking this whole time if she was just going to tell Mary to walk away once they got halfway down the block? Now she had to walk all the way back and get her bike. Which she was about to do anyway; but then Natalia started walking away...this wasn't nearly as cool as she imagined. Mary wondered if this awkward stuff ever happened to her father.

With nothing but the rattling song of crickets to keep her company, Mary made her way back to her bike, her footsteps echoing off the suburban walls. She texted her friends that she couldn't make it, and their responses all seemed so terribly boring now. It was like she had entered a dimension, parellel and besides to her own. Where things worked differently. Like, after all this time, she had finally realized some fundamental truth everyone else was missing.

She reached the garage and began to undo the lock. Lifting it up with a metallic groan, she saw the dusty family car and her bike leaned up against a pile of boxes. The garage was mostly a pile of boxes, if she was being honest.

The front door opened. It around the corner, for the garage stuck out a little farther than the front door.

"Mary?" Her mother's concerned voice called out. "Is that you?"

Crap! What should she do? What if she forbid her from joining the hunters? Mary realized they never really had this talk. Mom continued her training probably as a...obligation to Dad. Mary and June had a trust, Mary actually didn't lie to her about much of anything. This would be a huge break in that trust.

With a growing lump in her throat, Mary said nothing.

"Hello?" Her mother called out again. Please, just shut the door and go back inside, Mary thought. Let this be easy. After a while, there was nothing but the sound of the door shutting, and no further noise. Carefully, quietly, Mary wheeled her bicycle out the garage and quietly lowered it behind her as to not disturb her mother. The guilt was strong, but Mary figured she had to take risks at some point, right? What else was she supposed to do? Grow up, go to college, get a degree, get a job, meet a nice guy, have some kids, grow old and die after her husband? Mary didn't like the idea of already having her whole life planned out in front of her. Unless, of course, she never met anyone nice and instead got hit by a bus and died.

God had to have more in mind for her, didn't He? Otherwise, her father wouldn't have been a hunter. Otherwise, she would be happy going on trips to impoverished nations and building a church, or going on parades, or things most people do. He wouldn't have placed this opportunities in front of her, for her to just ignore them, right? Maybe mother wouldn't understand. She would be so worried.

But if Mary got hurt...no. She wouldn't get hurt. Simple as that. She had a job to do.

Finding Ms. Cynthia Nox might be difficult. With her resources (Google) it might be impossible if she wasn't using her real name.

Still, Mary figured it was worth a go. Searching Cythia Nox, a few results came up. First, was Cynthia Nixon, an actress. Not what she was looking for. The teenager followed up with "Cynthia Nox, Salem". Ah, there. She highly doubted it was a coincidence- it was the only name that came up.

Some people had mentioned her online, and it looked like she was in a ballet show at some point. Pretty, pale, and blonde. Okay, that's what she looked like back then. She might look a little different now. Still, it was better than nothing. What was a little more helpful was a few scattering mentions of her among other people's profiles. Some of her co-workers, maybe? One of them worked at a...Hekate's Crystals and Curiosities?

Well, it was a start. She supposed she would have to try some where, first. Plus, this place fit the list of criteria mentioned by Natalia. It was weird, for sure. Witchy sounding. Crystals and all that crap.

The bike ride was quiet. Mary didn't really see anyone, save for the cars that whirred by as she waited at various intersections. Plenty of time to think. To regret, and to be excited. This was the most emotionally turbulent think to ever happen to her since...well, her dad died. At least the weather was nice.

A little out of breathe, Mary coasted into the parking lot of the Crystal place. Hooking her vehicle up to a bicycle rack, she hesitated at the glass door of the place. Taking a question glance inside. Strange artifacts were all over the place. She spotted an unfortunately dressed woman inside, with a black dress. It didn't look like Cynthia, though.

The tiny little bell once again rang to announce Mary's arrival. Timidly, she creeped inside. There was a young woman at a desk. Pretty, pale, and blonde...was that her? She wasn't wearing a uniform, so no badge or anything. Mary poorly pretended to consider some of the bits and bobs and creeped closer to the conversation with the strangely dressed customer. Mary would wait for them to be alone, and then inform Cynthia of...what? Would Ms. Cynthia believe her? She had too. They were both hunters. Mary began to feel awkward and uncomfortable. Hopefully this woman would just go away and she could talk to Cynthia...if that was Cynthia. What if it wasn't?

Fear of social encounters wasn't usually Mary's deal, but this situation was extremely tense. The young hunter in training tried to focus and calm down, and went back to looking at the underside of a rock that had some writing on it. Apparently, this one helped a person to have good dreams. Nonetheless, Mary was waiting for a moment for the alleged Ms. Cynthia to be alone.

Surviving Sentinel Island

Veronica Silverstone
Location: On the beach.
Interactiobs: @JazzyJuniper
Health: Head injury, concussion.

---

The woman laying on the beach next to her began screaming. Veronica covered her ears as her head felt like it would burst. Why was she freaking out so much? Veronica still had a stangely placated look on her face, as this was all just a minor inconvenience. It was impossible for herself to tell, but she was suffering from a concussion. As such, the brief period of panic and terror had subsided into an inky delusion. She was really unaware of where she was, and what happened, and could not focus on much in particular.

Right now, this woman next to her needed Veronica's help. She was crying for help, clearly something was wrong with her. Well, Veronica thought, she needn't worry for long. Veronica was here to save her.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't worry. We'll be fine." Veronica replied calmly, echoing the woman's words, sitting up and putting a hand on her shoulder. Man, she felt sleepy. Still, this lady was clearly not having a good time. Veronica blinkled slowly.

"Do you want to go over to those people? I can help you." Veronica clambered methodically to her feet, stumbling a bit as she fully stood, a wave of dizzines washing over her. Woah, that was weird. Maybe she just stood up too quick- she probably needed to eat more. Veronica didn't remember coming to the beach, but obviously she must have. There were other people over there, in the distance. Having a party? Maybe they could help this poor lady out. Veronica wasn't a doctor. She was a model. People took pictures of her. Why? Veronica giggled. What a weird world.

Veronica extended a hand down to the woman to help her up, offering to help her walk towards help. "Come on. My name's Veronica. What's your name?"

Surviving Sentinel Island

Veronica Silverstone
Location: On the beach.
Interactiobs: @JazzyJuniper
Health: Head injury, disoriented.

The unconscious woman, Veronica (though her name was yet unknown to her savior), her head turned the side, began to violently cough up seat water. Spasming for a moment, she finally went still. A few moments later, her eyes fluttered open and she coughed raggedly. Veronica, finally coming to consciousness, could not think. Her head was heavy and full of water, her lungs ached, her entire body was cut and slightly bleeding, and there was a darkness at the back of her skull.

She groaned in agony, putting a hand to the wound at the back of her head, it came away sticky and wet with blood. Tears came to her eyes, as she continued sobbing and coughing. She rapidly sat up, her head swooned and the darkness overwhelmed. Veronica sighed and fell back down on the sand, passed out. Then, just a second or two later, she opened her eyes wide again, panic and confusion spilling from them. Vision swimming, breathe thin, body aching, she lay staring up at the sky, her muscles tense.

Only then, did she notice the woman laying next to her. Her chest was aching, as if someone had struck it. Veronica was not herself- she was more a panicking organism than a thinking human.

"Wha-..." She quietly croaked, turning her head to look at the woman next to her.

The panic in her eyes faded, instead they glazed over. The darkness pulsed once, her vision purpled briefly, her head swam, and a strange look of concern swept over her face.

"Are you okay?" She asked clearly and genuinely. "You look injured."

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

lauren watson

Eventually, the zombies lost track of the truck's noise. The town began to thin out into scattered buildings and eventually they were outside the town's limits and on their way to the ranch. Lauren imagined the zombies stupidly scrabbling to the last direction they heard the truck.

Like always, they never headed directly towards the Toxo base. They went away from it, far enough away from town to lose the infected, and then turned hard left to get back into Toxo; essentially sling shotting the stupid fucks off their trail. It's a good thing they weren't intelligent. Virus, parasite...whatever the Hell it was. They weren't going to be eating anyone else on this truck.

The Saint was still unconscious. Maybe she did do some work against that horde. But hey, just like Natalia, the Saint screwed herself by trying to help people who couldn't help themselves. Lauren smirked down at her, condescendingly. Was she dreaming? Lauren's smirk quickly faded when she realized she related to the woman on the ground. Lauren didn't remember her feverish dreams when she was dying from Natalia's poison. How come she went out of her way to help this woman, and out of her way to kill Lauren? How come she immediately brought it up when they got on the truck? Why do these people pretend like they are righteous, like they are saving anyone, when really they are just fucking stupid? It didn't make sense.

Lauren had read her history. She was always fascinated by the era of humanity when they believed what she did now. It's where she got her idea to get spears made to fight the zombies. Back in the age of knights, where the weaked served the strong, the zombie apocalypse would never have gotten this far. People like the Saint wouldn't have existed. The Lords and Ladies would have had the fucking balls to lock people out, to kill refugees before they got in, and eliminate those already infected inside the safe houses. Instead of wasting time looking for a cure, they would have done what was necessary. Then, those people died and were replaced by hateful ones. Those hateful ones were replaced by stupid ones, and finally they were replaced by weak ones. Now, here we are. The wonders of the first world. Lauren bet the tribes and villages in places like Asia, Africa, and South America were doing just fine.

Well, still. Maybe they could save this Saint. Not just keep her alive, but really allow her to put her skills to some good use, rather than wasting it on useless people.

The truck rumbled it's way down the concrete road until the walls and towers of Toxo were visible. Whispering Pines Ranch, as it used to be called by it's previous owners. If Ryder hadn't taken over, that place would be crawling with zombies.

"Toxo base, this is Lauren and the pick-up truck crew, we're almost back to base and..." Lauren briefly paused as she saw a woman on a horse.

"Who the hell is that?" Lauren asked the radio as the truck began to approach behind the woman. The truck slowed down as to not run her over. Lauren saw the doctor's pattern on the woman. Someone wanting to enter Toxo. Lauren slapped the roof of the truck and told a command to the driver.

"Drive 'round her. We gotta get into base. Don't worry, I'l shoot her if she tries anything." The truck slowly went to the right side of the horse. It dipped at a slight angle as the two right wheels crackled on the dirt on either side of the road. Lauren rebalanced herself as the unconscious woman slid a little to the opposite side of the truck bed.

She smiled cheerily at the horse rider as they went past, waving with her gun hand.

The gate opened up, recognizing the truck and closing quickly behind them, not risking letting the horse rider inside.

Lauren hopped over the truck bed, opened up the hatch and grabbed the unconscious woman, heaving her over her shoulder with a grunt. The passenger and the driver got out, and Lauren approached them.

"Take her into the doctor place, or whatever. Nat might be cross with us if she dies because you dropped her, so be careful." She winked at the man on the left, and the two of them nodded.

"Christ, hope this chick was worth it." The guy, (Walter?) said, recieving the woman like a sack of potatoes.

Lauren clicked on the safety and put in her pistol in the back of her pants. The cold steel pressing up against her skin was always a reassuring feeling. She began to seek out Ryder, for further orders and to relay information on the situation to him.

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐞

Julia Donald

The gigantic alien space worm reared high, high high into the air. With a tremendous roar that shook the earth, it brought it's mighty body down onto the iron dusted surface of Mars. Rocks and debris scatterd for miles and Captain Donald barely managed to get out of the way. Her loyal allies Cidney, Courtney, Aimee, all also avoided the blow, though now they were scattered and disoriented. Control operative Tyler was back at base, doing complicated mathematics to deduce the correct course of action. He sent them a text (Tyler hadn't spoken over the comms yet), but there was the weakspot. It showed up on their HUDS, the belly of the beast!

"Fire at it's face! We got to get it to raise it's head!" The brave Captain yelled. The four co-ordinated their strikes, and the beast, angered, raised it's head up to smash them again. The weakspot was visible!

"Quick!" She yelled, jetpacking over to her comrades. "Assemble the Master Blaster!" Her brave crew connected their blasters together, creating one, long, mega cannon. The giant worm prepared to smash all of them. Their only hope was to get the Master Blaster online on time. 50%...60%...85%...! The beast roared, bring it's might down upon them...100%!

A giant space laser, wide as a school bus and bright as the sun, violently burst from the Master Blaster's barrel. A huge cloud of sand was kicked up by the blast. The beam penetrated the beast's scaly hide, tunneled inside and evaporated straight through, out through the other side! With a squeal, the vile beast tumbled to the side, defeated.

Captain Donald celebrated her victory with her comrades. "We did it! We did it, everyone!" She jumped happily.

Lieutenent Benson approached, and Captain Donald looked at her, smiling from underneath her visor.

"This game sucks, let's play something else already." Aimee said bluntly.

"Oh," Julia said, a little deflated.

"Aimee stop being a brat to everyone, or no one will wanna play with you." Tyler spoke up. The older boy briefly glanced up from his phone, before refocusing his attention on it. Well, Julia thought, Aimee wasn't really being a brat. She was just being honest, right? Julia didn't want her new friends to be bored.

Julia looked back at her friend. "Well, what did you want to play?"

Aimee, it seemed, was a big fan of competitive games, which Julia never really liked. It was a lot more fun when everyone worked together to fight the bad guys. Unless it was her and Dad, because Dad wasn't a bad guy and she knew that. And...she won all the time. But still, mostly the bad guy thing. Plus, you could make up what the bad guys did instead of just running around and tagging each other, and it was too open out here to play hide and go seek.

Oh, well, Julia thought. She didn't want her new friends to be bored. She had to make a good first impreshton, like Mommy was saying.

Surviving Sentinel Island

@Leshy rest in piece, Will Gunderson. we hardly knew ye

Surviving Sentinel Island

is there a doctor in the house

plane crashes can absolutely fuck someone up, lol

Surviving Sentinel Island

Veronica Silverstone
Location: On the beach.
Interactiobs: Hopefully, anyone.
Health: Unconscious, head injury, drowning.

"Confidence," said the mother, braiding up the young girls hair in front of a mirror. "Confidence," she repeated, "is key to everything. You'd be surprised what people can get away with if they act like they belong. You, my little angel, must be confident on the stage." The little girl said nothing, listening patiently.

"You must act like you belong everywhere you go. Then, you will." The light brown hair's pattern grew more and more intricate as her delicate, agile fingers wove in an out of the strands, an artist at work. The room was softly lit, warm, glowing digitally lit oil lanterns mounted on the walls. The little girl was seated on a small, red-cushioned wooden stool, the mother leaned behind her, still looming over the little one.

"Is that lying?" The little girl asked quietly.

"No, my dear. It's not lying if you make it the truth." Her mother responded cooly. The little girl thought on this for a long, long, long while.

-

Veronica had washed upon shore, limp as a ragdoll. Face up, entire body drenched in water, her clothes torn asunder in various places, scrapes and cuts visible on the exposed skin. The largest cut, however, was on the back of her head, matting up her hair with blood. The wound looked bad, as it painted small flecks of crimson upon the beige sand beneath her head. Most likely non-fatal, but it was hard to tell.

Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, chest slowly rising and falling as she made an unpleasant, airy, sucking noise, oblivious to the world around her.

-

The little girl glanced down at the bird. It wasn't moving. The sun was setting, and the bird flew into the glass and fell down, and did not take back up again.

"Hey, sweetheart," her father said, concerned, rushing over after seeing what had happened. "Don't worry about that."

"What's wrong with it?" Veronica said, her voice cracking.

"Nothing dear, nothing. It's okay." He directed her away from the sight. He hesitated, though. Maybe she was old enough, after all.

"That bird...died. Sweetie." He said, sadly. She looked up at him with wet eyes.

"It's when someone..." he continued. "Or something, gets very, very hurt, or very, very old, it goes to sleep. Forever. Then, they go to heaven."

"Forever?" She asked. "That's really sad." Tears, at this point. He kneeled down.

"Hey, no, it's okay. It's a part of life. It really is. Otherwise, you just live forever. Isn't that kind of boring?" He asked. The little girl thought on this for a long, long, long while.

-

Foam bubbled out the woman's parted lips, the airy noise growing more dire and rattling. Water, the giver of all life on the planet, overwhelming one of it's creations as it so loves to do. Playfully tickling the woman's bare feet, for it was all a game to the indomitable element. From a distance, it look like as if an attractive, shoddily dressed woman was bathing in the sun. If not for the pieces of scattered ruin luggage on the beach and in the water, and the horrid noise coming from her throat as one approached, the illusion would be complete. Veronica had always liked the beach.

Surviving Sentinel Island

What's that cool little zone in the top right of people's posts? can i just steal from your post @Aamaya or is there a blank template somewhere?