Maraich (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
maraich) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
orendalogs2015-10-11 08:01 am
maraich) wrote in orendalogs2015-10-11 08:01 am
Entry tags:
Nom nom nom
Who: Maraich, Mr. Wendigo Survivor Extraordinaire, OPEN
What: Maraich enters a post-apocalyptic world
When: October?
Where: A world like "The Walking Dead" but isn't necessarily the same (I've only seen the games)
Warnings: Zombie survival world
Maraich didn't know where exactly he was. It was like a dream - he was convinced that it was for a while - before he woke up in an alleyway. When he opened his eyes he assumed he was still on his world somewhere. Maybe he'd been drugged and taken. Thankfully, he still had his clothes on. His fingertips brushed the necklace he was wearing, something that was supposed to be an 'artifact' but also felt surreal. It couldn't be real. This was just some messed up scheme to get at Bancoran, probably. First things first, he needed to figure out where he was.
He climbed to his feet and walked over to the entrance of the alleyway. It looked sort of like an American town, maybe, though that seemed rather far for someone to take him. He didn't recognize it. There was a cool chill in the air, enough that he could see his own breath. The stores on this street were small, and he could see a gas station down on the corner. The homes were modern enough, maybe a few decades old and showing some wear and tear.
Normally he would have sought out information quickly, but the entire place struck him as wrong. It wasn't the style of buildings that threw him off Many shop fronts had busted windows, plants were overgrown, and the most disturbing thing was that it didn't look like the cause was a city overrun by crime. He didn't see any people walking around, nor did he hear any hints of life. It was deathly silent and still. Something was seriously wrong and he put up his defenses immediately.
His heels clicked lightly and slowly on the cement as he ventured out. Stores appeared to be completely looted, homes were boarded up by broken into anyway. He spotted blood in certain spots, sometimes excessive amounts, but no bodies.
He spotted someone fumbling in the distance but he didn't call out. Just by watching its gait he could tell something wasn't right, and he wasn't about to trust anything he saw when the town was in this state. The shambling thing meandered around without any clear intentions, like there wasn't any thoughts to where it was going or why. Instinctively, his hand slipped to his hidden throwing knives and pulled them out. He didn't know what was going on but he sensed a very real threat.
Food. Water. Shelter. He organized what he needed immediately in his mind. Getting back to Ban would have to come after he survived and got out of here. Maybe he could make it to the next city and find some help. Without a word and ears and eyes open, he crept up to the nearest shop and scanned the inside through the large, shattered display window. The shelves seemed to be bare, but he did spot something that was missed. A vending machine was tucked in the corner, with drinks still inside of it. Sports drinks, water, tea. It was beaten but not open - someone obviously had tried and couldn't get into it. But that someone wasn't a professional like him.
Hopping over the window, he cautiously made his way towards the machine.
[OOC: Feel free to start a thread with your own prompt if you want! This is open for all, survival horror.]
What: Maraich enters a post-apocalyptic world
When: October?
Where: A world like "The Walking Dead" but isn't necessarily the same (I've only seen the games)
Warnings: Zombie survival world
Maraich didn't know where exactly he was. It was like a dream - he was convinced that it was for a while - before he woke up in an alleyway. When he opened his eyes he assumed he was still on his world somewhere. Maybe he'd been drugged and taken. Thankfully, he still had his clothes on. His fingertips brushed the necklace he was wearing, something that was supposed to be an 'artifact' but also felt surreal. It couldn't be real. This was just some messed up scheme to get at Bancoran, probably. First things first, he needed to figure out where he was.
He climbed to his feet and walked over to the entrance of the alleyway. It looked sort of like an American town, maybe, though that seemed rather far for someone to take him. He didn't recognize it. There was a cool chill in the air, enough that he could see his own breath. The stores on this street were small, and he could see a gas station down on the corner. The homes were modern enough, maybe a few decades old and showing some wear and tear.
Normally he would have sought out information quickly, but the entire place struck him as wrong. It wasn't the style of buildings that threw him off Many shop fronts had busted windows, plants were overgrown, and the most disturbing thing was that it didn't look like the cause was a city overrun by crime. He didn't see any people walking around, nor did he hear any hints of life. It was deathly silent and still. Something was seriously wrong and he put up his defenses immediately.
His heels clicked lightly and slowly on the cement as he ventured out. Stores appeared to be completely looted, homes were boarded up by broken into anyway. He spotted blood in certain spots, sometimes excessive amounts, but no bodies.
He spotted someone fumbling in the distance but he didn't call out. Just by watching its gait he could tell something wasn't right, and he wasn't about to trust anything he saw when the town was in this state. The shambling thing meandered around without any clear intentions, like there wasn't any thoughts to where it was going or why. Instinctively, his hand slipped to his hidden throwing knives and pulled them out. He didn't know what was going on but he sensed a very real threat.
Food. Water. Shelter. He organized what he needed immediately in his mind. Getting back to Ban would have to come after he survived and got out of here. Maybe he could make it to the next city and find some help. Without a word and ears and eyes open, he crept up to the nearest shop and scanned the inside through the large, shattered display window. The shelves seemed to be bare, but he did spot something that was missed. A vending machine was tucked in the corner, with drinks still inside of it. Sports drinks, water, tea. It was beaten but not open - someone obviously had tried and couldn't get into it. But that someone wasn't a professional like him.
Hopping over the window, he cautiously made his way towards the machine.
[OOC: Feel free to start a thread with your own prompt if you want! This is open for all, survival horror.]
no subject
"It's a creepy, gangly thing that eats people too." Really, they had a fair amount in common with zombies, except that zombies had more of a medical? origin. Either way, Mike didn't want to think on it too long. Someone else could draw up the pie charts about them. "Super fast, but blind as shit."
Meanwhile, he had the urge to kick at cars or knock trashcans (the ones still standing) and crates over to see what was inside them. He refrained, but lamented the potential losses there.
Of course this was far from a perfect world, and even being quiet, they could run into some hungry zombies. They weren't in a dead-ended alley at least, but some of the lumbering creatures seemed to be up ahead of them. "Guess our friends have some back-up." Or there were different zombie turfs and this was just another zombie gang.
no subject
He frowned at the fumbling zombies. There weren't many, and he had some knives he could throw, but he didn't know if they would take them out and he didn't want to lose them. Honestly, he'd prefer to avoid them altogether, but they'd already been spotted and while the zombies were slow he didn't see a way he felt comfortable going around them. One might say to go through backyards, but who knew what else they'd run into in those confined spaces.
He paused to look around them with a frown.
"I wish there was a way to check, but I don't want to lose a knife in the back of a zombie head. If we had one pinned down it'd be no problem." He glanced up at his companion. "So what do you think? Should we risk fighting or make a run for it?"
There weren't many, but if their assumptions were wrong it could be trouble.
no subject
"Tough luck, we don't have any guns," he said to Maraich with a sort of sigh. Losing a knife wouldn't be good, but dying would be even worse. "Eventually we're going to have to take some of 'em on. So why not do it now?"
While he was still relatively in good shape. At least neither of them were falling over from exhaustion. He hoisted his bag of drinks up over a shoulder and then gripped his makeshift weapon in the other hand, swinging it a couple of times. "Let's do this."
no subject
"All right." A knife practically appeared in hand as he flicked it out. "Let's go for the high ground. We can climb on one of the cars and get them straight in the head. And hope that that works, I guess."
If not. Well. They had legs. They'd have to make use of them.
He trotted over to a car and hopped up on the hood, running up and getting on the top. It wasn't an extremely large car but it did give him a height advantage, and he was light enough that the car didn't seem to mind too much. He stayed in the middle to keep some distance before the zombies would reach it, handle firmly gripped, ready to jab it in once he had a chance. It wasn't a lot of fun waiting for the slow, lumbering thing to make it over to him.
no subject
But with Maraich up on the car, he followed after. It briefly crossed his mind to go onto a different car, but it might be better to be close to each other if one zombie got particularly grabby or bitey. The vehicle rocked a bit more when he jumped on it as he was quite a bit bigger than Maraich. It creaked and he winced with the sound, but it wasn't like they weren't already coming. He decided to stay down on the hood level. Might have to jump up later.
"This is so fucked up," he muttered to himself, getting the crude rod he had ready. If they could get past this one bunch, they'd be able to run to some safety maybe. Even as the zombies got closer though, he was still and quiet, hoping that maybe they would be dumb like wendigos and keep walking past.
no subject
On the other hand, they came straight for them. No sudden ducks, twists or turns. He took a step back as they got to the car. Arms up, it directly tried to reach and grab at his ankles, and even when he was on the other side of the roof it was too close for comfort. In an uncharacteristically simple reaction, he took a slight step forward and plunged the knife into the top of its head.
It seemed to have some sort of seizure, but that wasn't enough for him, so he stabbed several more times until undoubtedly the brain must have been scrambled and it slid down the side of the car. It wasn't the only one, but it was the one that was in a good enough position for him to do that.
He glanced over at the other teenager next to him as he backed off, now bloody knife in hand.