[[ Abandoned ]] [semi-lit+ zombie, accepting]

[Princess Porcelain]

[If anyone's interested, Koren and Timothy are hiding in a restaurant. Well, actually, Koren's hiding, and Timothy is out cold...]

[kimmy1479]

(Well, I believe they are planning on going out to get weapons from the Police Station. Perhaps they can discover the two of them on the way? ^-^ Everyone else is in an abandoned bar.)

[Princess Porcelain]

[Sounds good. ]

[intriguing]

~ Billie Tara Evans ~

"Oh well, I'm sorry about that, just seemed you were in charge," said Billie apologetically. She nodded, "Nice to meet you," she said with a gentle smile, she thought about the situation, she wouldn't have met half of these people if it weren't for circumastances. She was unsure now whether the 'apocalypse' was a good or bad thing, it certainly meant she got out more, even if it was with the soul purpose of sending walkers back to their graves. "It looks that way but I can't for the life of me," she replied with a sigh, she wished she could fire a gun, but she hadn't been brought up like that, she'd always been interested in mechanics and comics and baseball rather than rifles and ammo and army. "I just loaded up whatever I could in case I got in a group," she said, before adding, "It's all in the handbook," and she tapped her pocket in which there was the bulge of a small book. She had always been a closet nerd, and interest in the fictional genre of the living dead had been no exception to her geeky ways. She had, for a good percentage of he rlife, been more open to the concept of zombies than religion, and now they were here, she was already prepared and knew exactly what to do. "If you need people though I'm happy to join you on the run," she said with a shrug and a half smile, she could do with a bit of action, being holed up in a cupboard for days hadn't been great for her joints or her mind. "Are you sure it's safe here though, I've been here for a few days and the walkers only left yesterday, they might still be in the vicinity," she said, looking around again, almost expecting a biting irony to haunt her and walkers arms to push through the gaps in the wood barricade.
Billie looked to Rick, "Oh, if you're looking for people with training I probably oughtn't come either," she said, looking down to the floor, she hadn't relaised quite who she was mixing with. All she had to show for herself was a blood spattered baseball bat and a confident tone of voice, in comparison to all these men, her skills seemed pratically meaningless. "Are you all ex-forces then or something?" she asked, before raising her hand to cover her yawn. She had merely been a trainee mehcanic fresh out of college, she didn't know if she was capable enough to stick around with them long. Maybe she would go first? She shuddered, she hated contemplating her death, but she found herself doing it an awful lot now.

[Princess Porcelain]

Bump?

[Bearsy <3]

Rick studied Aaron for a moment before running a hand along his jaw. "If you're sure you know what you're doing... I guess we can't exactly force you to stay here." He glanced sideways at Charles to see his reaction; he didn't want to stand alone on decisions and cause friction. It just wasn't worth the trouble-- as he liked to say, it wasn't just the walkers they had to worry about. Unecessary fighting between survivors was dangerous at the least. Not only could it result in injuries and wasted supplies [a fight between two of his evacuees that ended in a perfectly usable water tank being smashed open and spilled all across the street sprang to mind] but raised voices and gun fire was more than likely going to bring the walkers down on them like a tonne of bricks. While Rick was sure the bar was safe for the moment, he'd seen the damage a hungry horde of the dead could cause. There was no telling what could happen.

When Billie spoke Rick nodded again, smiling a little and turning his gaze to her once more. "It was good thinking though. I mean, if you look like you can fight back hopefully the... other survivors'll stay clear." He'd seen what desperate people could do to their own kind and forced himself not to shudder. In some cases the walkers were the least of their worries; a few here and there could easily be outrun, but another living, breathing person? That was something else entirely. So far Rick hadn't come into contact with any, but some of his scavenging parties had been brought to abrupt ends by rival groups' ambushes. The stories his group had come back with chilled Rick to the bone and he only hoped that this new group could survive.

"It's entirely up to you, if you think you'd rather come then I don't see why not. So long as you can look out for yourself, right Charles?" Rick looked to him once more, shrugging slightly. "Oh, I'm just a cop, y'know?" He gestured to the badge still attached to a belt loop, and the logo on his shirt sheepishly. A slight smile played on his lips and he leaned back on a table, thankful for the slight rest they could steal while holed up in the bar. His guard wasn't completely down though-- one hand still rested on his pistol and his eyes scanned the boarded windows, checking for cracks or signs of walkers outside.

[intriguing]

~ Billie Tara Evans ~

Billie hadn't thought about the situation that way before, all the other survivors she'd met along the way were friendly or close to death, or more often than not both. She shuddered, "I didn't know people would do that," she said with a sigh, "It's amazing what this stuff does to people," she muttered, shaking her head to herself. "Well if it's alright with you guys I'd love to come, I'm good with close range stuff," she said, gesturing to the baseball bat and crowbar held in her belt. She had all manner of tools in there, simply because when news of the apocalypse reached her there hadn't been much time to change it, she fugured it'd prove useful, and so far it had. Billie smiled at Rick, the way he casually said 'just a cop'. Just a cop? She'd have loved to be a cop it just wasn't quite as easy as it looked. "I'm an engineer, well trainee, but still," she said with a gentle smile again. She'd never quite got the chance to finish her training before th 'apocalypse'. Three years in university, followed by three years apprenticeship, she'd just been finishing up her course when the news of zombies had dawned. Billie looked off into the distance absent-mindedly, her hand reahcing for the cord around her neck, she rubbed the familiar metal of one of the keys. It's use was unknown to all but the woman herself.
You look after that Billie, you might need it one day, her grandfather had said, handing it to her, she had been nine, just able to understand quite the importance of what she had been given. She had nodded, her big brown eyes calm and trusting. She knew how important it was to him. She didn't know what she could find with that key, but she knew she had to keep it. One day, one day she would feel the time was right and then she would go back, back to the city, she'd unlock the door and she'd find... Well she didn't quite know what, but it would be useful, and she'd need it, whatever it was. Billie hugged her grandfather, looked into his old, pale brown eyes and kissed his forehead, before running off again to play with her friends. He had watched her running, knowing he could trust her, she may onyl be nine, but she was mature and she would look after it. He smiled, his wrinkled face and eyes lighting up with happiness. All would be well...
Billie snapped out of her daydream, she looked back at the gentlemen in front of her, temporarily forgetting who or where she was, she dropped her hand from the key on her necklace and tried to collect her thoughts again. "Who else is coming and do we have any specific supplies we need?" she asked, actually sounding competent and confident despite her lapse of attention only a few moments ago.

[Princess Porcelain]

.: Koren Aryana Lark :.

This is the color of Koren's speech.
This is the color of Timothy's speech.

Koren was walking silently through the streets, her gun in hand. Not that she was worried about being attacked, she just felt better when she had a weapon around. The night cast eerie shadows everywhere the pale yellow glow of the streetlamps did not touch. Wind howled through dark, deathly silent alleys, and the only sound that could be heard is the creaking of old doors as the wind pushed them open with its icy fingers. As Koren walked, she searched for Timothy, who had apparently run off again.

What am I going to do with that boy? she thought. He needs to learn to stop running off. She searched an old alley where he often hid from her, in hopes of jumping out and scaring her. He was not in any of his usual hiding places, so she searched an abandoned bakery that had since been relieved of its merchandise. On the floor, in a pool of dark red blood, was her brother, with a piece of glass stuck in his leg. "Timothy! Are you okay?" Koren asked, hysterical. When no answer was forthcoming, she checked for signs of life. His heart was beating. He was breathing. He would survive, but he was unconscious and his leg might get infected if she didn't find a first-aid kit.

Luckily, there was one hidden in a supply closet, so Koren took out the glass, dressed his wound, and applied a bandage. She picked up her brother, and carried him back to the small hideout they had been staying in, which, luckily, was not that far, otherwise, she might have dropped him. She laid him down on a bench in the abandoned restaurant, and found one of the dirty tablecloths they had been using for blankets, and put it over him. She locked the doors with a small key. It might not prevent the zombies from getting in, but at least it would hold them off or otherwise deter them from entering.

At least she had set up an effective alarm that warned against intruders. That would certainly help if she fell asleep. She curled up in her usual sleeping area, where she could hear the alarm if it went off, and, hopefully, keep vigil over her brother.

.: Timothy Andrew Lark :.

Timothy was outside, scavenging for anything edible, when he found an interesting-looking store down an alleyway, past several garbage cans and dumpsters. The old sign, which seemed almost ready to fall off of its precarious perch, read: Mama Olive's Bakery - Welcome, everyone. He pushed open the door, on its rusty hinges. Apparently, this place had been out of business for some time. But it was possible that there could be something here worth looking for.

Timothy searched the building, from top to bottom, until he found a locked supply closet with a broken window. He slipped through the window, but somehow a shard of glass became lodged in his leg. He paid no mind as he looked at the things the supply closet held. Most of the food had since gone out of date, but there were a few raw materials that were still edible, as well as some pickles and various jams and jellies. He unlocked the door, and went to search for a bag, a box, or some kind of container to carry the stuff back to the restaurant he and his sister had been staying in.

On his way down the stairs, he continued to search for something useful. When he arrived at the first floor, a dark form swung a heavy aluminum baseball bat at his head, making him fall to the floor in a heap. The last thing he saw before blacking out was an apelike form exiting the building with a straight, stick-like thing in its hand, and Koren's voice coming from the opposite side of the establishment, saying, "Timothy! Are you okay?" After that, complete blackness engulfed his senses.

[intriguing]

((Bump, Sorry Lizzie, I would interact with your charries, but Billie's occupied at the mo, sorry again c;))

[Princess Porcelain]

[That's fine. ]