A Power Struggle[Semi-lit apocalyptic rp, accepting]

[East.]

Autumn walked along the path. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure there was nothing. She walked on and brushed her hair out of her face, "Erg.. Stupid hair is getting longer..," She muttered. She walked on her pistol gripped in her hand. She still had her knife in her pocket just in case. She felt hungry, but she knew she had to keep moving. She blinked her amber eyes and looked around again. She sighed and slunk down by a tree. She sat down and put her pistol in her pocket. She wondered if there was any survivors left, if she was the only one, or if there was others.. She shook her head, and stopped thinking that there was no one else. She sighed again and got back up. She headed along the path once again muttering under her breathe.

[Steine Sind Steine]

It tended to be awfully quiet at this time of night, as Rainer had observed time and time again. There were no birds left to chirp, none of the animals he had grown used to as a young man, the only bugs left around here being the cockroaches he wasn't particularly fond of. So why was it that he thought he heard a slightly muffled voice? It sounded as if it had been intentionally quieted, and female, he could tell, though the words were almost wholly unintelligible. Something having to do with hair, he knew. Rainer wondered if he was finally going crazy, the murmuring of voices in his head uncontrollably starting up. At least he would be getting in touch with his feminine side if the voice was female and talking about hair... The man cracked a rare smile, mostly consisting of nervousness and maybe a little bit of hope.

However, the noise of speech that he'd not heard in a damn long time didn't seem to be projected from his own head. It seemed to be from several meters away, however it was that he'd picked it up. Rainer assumed that if it was really something, not just some radiation-poisoned animal's chittering that sounded like words, he should probably check it out. Awkwardly shifting his six foot six form to pop a few stiff joints, almost without any belief that what he'd heard was a real person, the man went in search of the source. He was quiet, as he had learned to be for fear of anyone out there that might not have been beneficial to him, such as the feared enemy troops who stalked throughout the wasted cities, looking for goods and women alike. They had really reverted back to the first days, other than that almost no one else was around. Or, no one else had so far been discovered.

Rainer had to climb up yet another pile of rubble, this time the huge, homogeneous mixture consisting of what he thought was a street sign and a coffee shop. Below him was a path, the dirt covering what used to be asphalt. Then again, there were some trees around here, so it also might have once been a beautiful path with trees arching above like intertwining fingers. His smile faded into a smirk as he thought that there might be the crushed bodies of some hipsters beneath the building he was currently on. As the years passed, his sense of humor had become very morbid as opposed to his chuckling at a good joke. The war, this 'apocalypse' had truly made him a different man. His wandering mind quickly snapped into focus, eyes catching sight of a form moving in the growing darkness. Was that really what he thought it was?

"Hello?" Rainer called, using the greeting in English as opposed to his much-preferred German. His mouth suddenly felt very dry from a blend of excitement and fear. If this person were to turn, if it was a person at all, since he couldn't tell in the darkness, then they'd undoubtedly see him standing atop this pile. How hard was it to miss the form of a tall guy, even if she was a yard or so below him? He knew his voice would carry.

[amoxi]

Sanguine hummed to himself as he wandered around the ruins that once had been a beautiful, glorious city, the happy tune breaking the silence he had been enduring for such a long time now. He liked silence, but after some time it made even him uncomfortable and left him with the pressing desire to hear some kind of noise. And instead of speaking to himself he had started to hum, for this melody reminded him of his dear mother who had been killed in this war. She had always sung this song to him when he was younger, and since Sanguine just couldn't sing he had limited himself to humming.

He had indeed noticed that it was getting darker and darker, but he felt no desire to return to his empty bomb shelter. He had put the small amount of food and water into a dark green backpack he had found under a few pieces of debris and had taken the few things he owned with him, too. Currently there was no reason for him to return. And if he died, he'd at least he wouldn't have to go trough the hell his life had become anymore... Or rather, the hell that his life had been for years now.

The only source of some comfort and happiness he had had was gone now, too. Until a few days ago he had shared his bomb shelter with a young girl. She had just turned 18 and seemed to be surrounded by positive emotions at all times. Camilla had been her name and she always seemed to talk, about anything she could think of really. Sanguine had enjoyed her company very much, and she didn't seem to mind not getting a verbal response of him, too. A few days ago she had left to search for some food, and he hadn't tried to stop her. Sanguine wasn't the kind of person to stop people from doing what they wanted to do, and he had had a feeling the girl wouldn't stay if he asked her to, anyways. She hadn't returned and by now Sanguine was sure that she was dead.

His humming slowly died down and he sighed heavily, finally starting to pay attention to what was around him again. He ran his hand trough his hair, noticing a still standing and strangely familiar looking building not too far away. A bomb shelter, and it wasn't his. There was no almost decayed corpse just next to the entrance, so it was someone elses. There was a mix between hope and something close to annoyance at the thought of another survivor who might be inside of this buulding. Only the thought of another person trying to use him again was simply unnerving and for a few seconds he was tempted to just keep walking on, but he ended up hesitating at the door, anyways.

Another deep sigh left his mouth and he thought about what possibly could go wrong. It could be enemy troops waiting inside, or someone could mistake him for an enemy and try to kill him... With his clothes once again bloodstained he sure didn't look like he wasn't a threat for someone else, and that some blood had also dried on his cheeks and hands didn't make him appear any less... ah, intimidating maybe? Still, if he didn't check for survivors... he'd actually feel bad for maybe abandoning someone and letting him or her maybe even die here.

Taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders he softly pressed his hands against the door to push it open, muttering a curse under his breath as it creaked loudly. Any hopes of having time to actually take a look at anyone who might be in here before deciding wether or not to stay were lost. He reached down to reassure the bowie knife his father had given to him was still there, feeling a little bit more relaxed as his fingers brushed against it's familiar handle.
He really hoped he wouldn't be forced to use it, but it was good to know he had somehing else beides his fists to protect himself.

Deciding that he might as well just ask if there was anyone here, even though he knew he would most likely not recive an answer anyways, he did exactly that. He cleared his throat and took another step forward before calling with a rather hoarse voice: "Hello? Is anyone here?" and, after a few seconds, he also added a lame "I'm not here to kill you!"

He almost burst out laughing, but managed to keep quiet. 'Yeah, exactly. Everyone who actually wants to kill someone says that, too.' He smirked wickedly and slowly proceeded forward, attentively searching for any kind of movement that might give away a living beings location.

[East.]

Autumn jumped at the unexpected voice. She hadn't noticed it come from above her so she lifted the pistol up looking around. She called, "Who's there??" She looked around the leafless trees pointing her pistol into the darkness. She let out a huff and dropped her gun to her side. But she kept a hold of it just in case it may be someone else who might attack and kill her. She looked around once again, scuffling her shoes on the rocks on the path.

[Steine Sind Steine]

Rainer had his shotgun strapped on his back for no particular reason, as he knew that there was almost nothing left but the troops. Even those men hadn't been seen around here for several weeks. But what did he know? His lack of a calendar made it possible that it'd just been one week, and he was already getting stir crazy from the lack of a person around to talk to. He heard the shape speak, and now he was sure that it was a person, and at that, a girl. He was unsure how old they war or anything about her profile, but she definitely wasn't over forty and certainly not a child. The man didn't know what to think, after all, mostly because women tended to be a particularly touchy subject, especially following the death of his dearly beloved. Rainer heard her ask who was there, and he understood her nervousness, as he would have mirrored it if he was the one who had just been called out to.

With expertise that came only from years of doing just that, Rainer slid down the coffee shop pile and landed almost right in front of the girl. He towered over her, although that was needless to say, in all respects. Assuming that he probably looked intimidating with a dirty face and a gun on his back, the man shamelessly grabbed his gun and tossed it away from him, shortly putting his hands in the air. Just in case things got violent, he took a couple of steps back. With a quick maneuver, he could get his gun back or just use brute force. "I'm here, and the name is Rainer... I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk."

—

Like he usually did to pass the time, John basically sat in one of the wooden chairs and twiddled his thumbs. There was nothing to do but sing, which he could do, but knew nothing but military songs that would make him feel depressed. That, or, he could read one of the books on the shelf that he'd already read over several times. A few times, he'd even tried his hand at writing some sort of memoir, but that had made him feel about a million times worse than he would if he was just singing those stupid marching songs. His entire being screamed for him to dig into the MREs or the fruits, but he held himself back, determined to find some sort of distraction from eating. The young man rubbed a hand with chewed-down fingernails oven his stubble, wondering if he should just take an eternal nap.

It would be better if he just gave up, he assumed. The many times that the military men he'd been teamed up with years previously ventured out on scouting missions and returned, they all had seen more bodies than they could count. Dogs, cats, men, women, and children. To him, it seemed like it was some demonic farmhand that scattered the bodies everywhere like feed to chickens. There was nothing that fed on them, he was sure, other than the organisms that devoured everything in this world when it came time for them to die. John, thinking of this and the sights he'd seen while overseas, thrust his fingers into his mouth and began to violently chew on the nails that were hardly more than just nubs. Although his body was here, attacking his nails, his mind was elsewhere, locked on his past.

Today was a cold day. Then again, when was it not cold on the front? He could feel the chill of air blowing over his neck, having been unlucky enough to be the last into the tent that they called home on the battlefield. One of his friends grinned at him, a cigarette jammed in the side of his mouth with the cinders falling on the ground when he spoke. Cards were gripped in his dirt-covered hands, preparing to deal them in. “You’re going to lose.” It was a childish jeer and the both of them knew it. After all, Charlie had only recently celebrated his eighteenth birthday, and even that was on this cursed front.

“Don’t be so confident, Charlie.” Said John, even younger now, hardly more than just a boy, and grinning right back at him. “You won’t win a single cigarette.” One of the men playfully jabbed Charlie, the dealer, in the gut, egging the pair on. “Deal me in and we’ll see if you’re bluffing.” Feeling a breeze flow in and hit his neck, John shivered slightly, moving away from the opening. “Can’t any of you afford to move over some? It’s freezing!”

Charlie tossed him some cards, doling out the others to some of their fellows. Soon, they were engaged in a well-loved game of poker. It was dark other than an oil lamp they’d moved into the middle of their circle. Their wagers, ammunition, cigarettes, a sparing drop or two of alcohol, waited for a lucky winner. “Fold.” Growled a man, slamming his cards down in front of him. John and his friend eyed one another with a smirk gracing their faces.

“Raise.” His friend stated, haphazardly scattering a few rounds into the pile of loot. Meanwhile, John tried not to grin. He shifted slightly, waiting to see if anyone else would set something down.

“Call.” John commented instantly, adding to his pile that would continue to grow throughout the night. Meanwhile, his friend flashed his own cards, three of a kind, with a cocky smirk. An arched brow dared John to best him, and his eyes looked at the goods just within his grasp. Wordlessly, John set down his cards and caused jaws to drop in awe of his flush. His friend’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water.

“What in the name of!” Exclaimed his fuming ally, watching as a smug John dragged his loot toward him. “Are you some sort of goddamned wizard?” A smirk then overtook his friend's face and he took a generous drag from his cigarette, then taking it from his mouth and stealing a swig of contraband alcohol. John playfully glared as he ran his fingers through his short, dark brown hair.

John's attention was suddenly brought back from the world of the past when he heard the door to his bomb shelter opening, and footsteps steadily coming down towards him. He stood and reached for his beloved M1911 that sat on the table beside him, his hazel-green eyes widening in awe and distrust. An enemy soldier would immediately be shot in the chest, but little did he know, he was in for a bit of a surprise. A greeting and a question were hardly registering in his ears. Compared to the deadly composure that he showed on the battlefield, his hands were shaking as he gripped the gun with as much determination as he could muster. It was definitely an unfamiliar voice, and that of a male. The call of, "I'm not here to kill you!" only made him feel more nervous, something like a knot in his guts forming.

John suddenly pressed against the wall and flicked out the lights, ducking under a desk as swiftly as he could and accidentally hitting his ankle. Clapping a hand against his mouth to keep a hiss of pain or a choice swear from escaping, he kept his breathing even as he waited for the intruder to show himself. He was skilled at that after a few instances of terror, between a rock and a hard place with a soldier determined to kill him just a few yards away. The military had been both a blessing and a curse, to to be honest, as he had become better prepared for this nuclear apocalypse from his training and on-field experience.

His thoughts had been on this man who may or may not have come into his shelter to dispose of him this entire time. The wait was painfully agonizing, and he felt terrified and grimly determined in the same respect. Will he just leave? I don't think it seems as if there's anyone living in here. No. He'd flicked off the lights, and he inwardly knew that it would be a dead giveaway. Hopefully, whenever they found this small room with chairs and a desk, his aim would have steadied and he'd be ready to drive a bullet into his heart. If at all he proved to be dangerous, for that matter. In the past, he had seen a survivor or two, but all of them had gone completely mad and one was sick from an effect of the radiation.

[East.]

Autumn held up her pistol quickly. But she didn't take any chances on dropping it when he spook, "What do you want?" She asked, a little frightened at how tall he was. She take a step back away from him still holding her pistol up at him. She narrowed her eyes and kept on hand on her pocket in case she needed to get her knife out if he tried to do anything. She stared at him waiting for his reply, she stayed silent waiting.

William shook his head. He still wasn't used to all this. He sighed and looked around the shattered houses and buildings. He only held his small knife, so he wouldn't be able to do much. He was frightened that he was going to die. He glanced around, wondering if any of his family was still alive. He blinked and walked on. His shoes clicking on the ground, which didn't bother him much. But, might get someone that wasn't to friendly after him. But, he had to no choice unless he wanted his feet to freeze. He gripped the knife in the palm of his hand and glanced around once again.

[Steine Sind Steine]

The man was both amused and impressed by her swift reflexes, the area between his eyes nicely aligned with the barrel of her pistol. Although he could easily disarm her, he gave her the power of an 'advantage'. If she shot right now, there'd be no stopping her, but she didn't immediately attempt to kill him, and he quite nearly sighed in relief. "What every survivor wants. Just... An ally." Rainer calmly told her, blue eyes betraying nothing and his face completely neutral. He felt her expectant eyes on him, as well as the hopefully uncertain hand currently cradling the firearm. If it wasn't at all uncertain, then he'd have to be quick on his feet. Although he was tensed, he attempted to appear relaxed. Rainer couldn't help being paranoid, especially with her weapon.

[East.]

Autumn dropped her hand to her side, still holding the pistol. She blinked at him and said, "Well, It's not likely that'd I join you, Because, It's not like I can trust you." She looked around wondering if he already had an ally, about to attack her at any moment. Than she looked back at him still unsure.

[Steine Sind Steine]

[I have a character, Gottlieb, who I could use if you like for Will. ^^]

"I know. It's undoubted, as we've only just met." Rainer, as he often did when he was nervous or unsure about something, shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking at the ground. Although his outward appearance was fairly intimidating, he wasn't quite as cruel or terrifying as he seemed. After a moment, he returned his blue gaze back to her amber eyes. "Well, it's not as if I have any regrets after the world's gone to the state it is. What would you like to know?" Seeing her looking around with some degree of uncertainty, he found himself smiling slightly. Maybe it was from the complete excitement at finding someone else, his delirious euphoria, or maybe it was just the fact that she was hardly more than a child and already so sure of herself. "I have no other allies."

[East.]

(If you want to, I don't mind lol, I think I'm doing quite fine for this being my first Human RP ;P)
Autumn watched him for a little while and when he asked her what she would like to know. She thought for a moment and said, "Just anything, I don't really care, Whatever you feel like telling me," She put her pistol in her pocket and said, "Oh by the way, I'm Autumn," she waited for him to reply. Still watching him, wondering if she should trust him.