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

[a i r y .]

[ Sure, of course. ^^ ]

[a i r y .]

Airy flicked the hood of her black leather bomber jacket up. It was always better to blend in with the crowd, sometimes standing out was good but in a city Airy just wanted to be in the shadows. She preferred the countryside, like she was used too as a child. She remembered running through the rolling hills, with the lush grass. She shook her head fading back into reality. She was in a scummy city, trying by the docks to find any form of boat that would take her down into the country. A thick layer of ash covered the city, people had grime all over her face. Airy didn't know how they tolerated it, she always washed up with whatever water she could find or, by using a clean piece of fabric. The strap of her crossbow, was pure black as she moved she could feel her crossbow on her back move with every step. She pushed through the crowds of people, gently as they cried out for fish or some form of food. She shivered, pulling her jacket tighter, if she was jogging she'd be warmer but jogging would cause attention and she didn't need attention.

[East.]

Autumn shrugged and looked back up at him, "Sure," She pushed her pistol in her pocket with a nod. Than she put on her jacket that she had tied around her waist and zipped it up, she put the hood over her head. She put her hands in the pockets of the jacket and said, "Do you think there's anyone else around here? Cause I haven't seen anyone else, but of course, you." She couldn't think of anyone she had seen in a long time. She blinked, still wondering if any of her siblings we're still alive.

William walked out off the road onto the side of it. He could see some crashed cars, he was only on the side because of the clicking of his shoes, and he didn't want to disturb anyone that might come after him. So he walked along, kicking rocks in the side of the road. He sighed, it was kind of boring with no one to talk to. But he knew better than to try and yell out for anyone, that would just be stupid of him. He shook his head and walked on. Still, his small knife gripped tightly in his hand

[amoxi]

As soon as the lights went out Sanguine stopped dead in his tracks, eyes narrowing slightly as his smirk slowly faded. His lips were now tightly pressed together while he stood in the dark, giving his eyes time to adjust to his now black environment.

'Well, at least I know someone is here now.' But... was that actually a good thing or not? He wasn't so sure about that anymore. In fact, he knew that he was currently in danger. Maybe he had stumbled upon someone who'd just shoot him without thinking at all? It was possible, after all every human could go trough drastical changes if it came down to saving their own lifes. And with his luck...

For once Sanguine wished he had a working flashlight. Sadly, the one he owned didn't have batteries in it and he hadn't found any up to now, either. So he took another deep breath and stretched out his arm, running his fingers along the wall as he started walking again. He now took small, careful steps as to not trip over something, scanning his surroundings. He almost felt like a hawk stalking it's prey. Oh, he had loved those birds. But that was no time to recall memories of something that he'd never see again, and he wasn't a predator. He didn't want to kill whoever it was who had flicked out the lights.

For a moment, Sanguine thought about actually just killing the survivor. Testing out what he could do, comparing his survival skills to the other's. He felt excitment at the thought, but quickly dismissed it, anyways. There was no way he'd do that. Not until it was necessary, of course.

Finally he reached a small room, a little smaller than the one of his own bomb shelter. He could vaguely make out a few chairs and a desk, but that was about it. He cursed himself once again for not searching for batteries more thoroughly, but instead of beating himself up about it he searched the room with his almost useless eyes again.

Something under the desk suddenly caught his eyes and he turned his head lightly into it's direction. He didn't know if it was just his hyperactive mind fooling him, but he was sure that he had seen something moving under it. At first he had thought that theRe only was a large bag or crates stored under it, but as he payed more attention to the dark figure he realised that it indeed seemed to have the vague outlines of a human.

Slowly, not wanting to scare whoever was under the desk, he turned around, raising his hands to show that he was no threat aswell. Of course, he could still grab his knife, while he was a slow runner Sanguine could still grab things fairly fast, but such gestures usually worked just fine to calm people down... Sane people, that was.

"... You know, I can see you perfectly fine. If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it already." That was a lie. Well, the first part at least. Sanguine did always have problems with seeing in the dark, not that anyone had known of that. The last sentence... wasn't that much of a lie. He would have at least attempted to kill him, but he wasn't here to do just that. Unless the guy tried anything stupid, at least.

"So, could you switch the light back on, please? The dark is getting kinda unnerving, you know?" He said, a bit louder this time, trying his best to give his voice his usual calm and somewhat carefree, happy tone.

[Steine Sind Steine]

"Okay." Rainer didn't hesitate to ask if she could climb over the coffee shop, so used to moving on his own and caught in the moment of finding another living human being that he simply made his way to the top. Although this destruction had caused so many deaths, and soon to be even more, the city really had a disturbing sense of beauty. He heard her question, if there was anyone else out there, Autumn going to say that she'd not seen anyone else but him. The man turned around to look at her, his blue eyes seeming to glow with the last rays of the sun. "I haven't seen more than one person," he paused for a second, thinking back to the time he'd gone into a bomb shelter in search of food, "but that old man had gone completely insane." Rainer had put him out of his misery without shame. After all, if he hadn't, then he would've been killed. It was then that he seemed to come back to his usual polite nature. "Do you need some help up?"

—

John stayed as silent as possible, only slightly regretting his decision to turn the lights out. He had the advantage unless this man was awfully coordinated, as he'd been down here for a long time and he knew every nook and cranny of the place. There was even a secret room behind a false bookcase, but that was across the entire structure and there was no way out of here unless he pulled an all-out assault. It was inconvenient for him that he'd thought to go here first, but the one thing that he had over him was his gun. Which, he then realized, didn't have the safety on. Isn't that just completely wonderful? At least his sarcasm still functioned well, the last skill he'd need in a nuclear apocalypse.

The throbbing pain in his ankle made him paranoid that it would be more than just a simple bump or scrape. A more logical side of himself soothed that it was nothing more than the latter option. If it turned out to be anything past something simple, he might be screwed. There were medical supplies, but the one medic who had at first been in the bomb shelter with them was the same one who left with the others and never came back. John looked from the dark outline of his ankle to the gun in his hands to the doorway, the dim light still on and flickering back in the main room. This situation was a rather dangerous gamble, not like the simple card games he'd played with his company men back in the good old days that he served his country. Now his country was in shambles, but so were most other parts of the world.

His attention was drawn back to the doorway, where a figure suddenly stood. Their fingers were on the wall, seeming to be tracing his way in the dark. John smirked despite himself and his situation, knowing that the dark was good for some people and bad for others. It might have been caused by nervousness and fear, his heart picking up pace like some obscure Olympic runner. This man was impossibly tall, at least having a half foot on him. John's hands became very steady as he realized that he could be killing this man, and it was to make himself survive in this world that had become a living hell. Unlike the quiet life in this bomb shelter that was slowly driving him nuts, the city outside would have to be a lot worse. Endless wandering compared to a warm, familiar, underground house.

Ah, sh*t... John thought as he saw the man's head incline slightly in his direction. Who was to say that he might think him dead, another rotting corpse, and that another person had gone running somewhere else? It was completely unlikely, but he'd met more stupid people when serving, and even though he wasn't a genius himself, he wouldn't be surprised whatsoever. The man didn't dare make another move, as he was pretty sure by the observation that he wasn't looking anywhere else that his location had been found out. What was he waiting for, hesitating to turn the safety off? Was he just waiting for this intruder to come and kill him? It didn't make him feel any less nervous when he put his hands up, only being reminded of when he nearly was killed by an enemy, the soldier having done the same thing. Taking his bluff, John had been caught unaware and was soon locked in brutal hand-to-hand combat.

The man twitched uncontrollably at the sound of him talking once more, not used to the sound of anyone else's voice but his own from so long alone. Apparently, he could see him perfectly fine, and if he wanted to kill him, then he would've done it. John licked his lips that were dry and cracked, the nervousness accompanying the situation not making that any better. He picked that exact moment to turn the safety off, the click of it sounding satisfying enough. "Yeah?" Asked the ex-soldier, his voice gravelly and low from more than just one too many cigarettes. John unfolded himself from underneath the desk, coolly pointing his pistol at the man's head with a sole hand. The kick was something he was more than accustomed to, although he could easily take aim once again if he really needed to.

There came a request for him to turn the lights back on as well, and John looked at him distrustingly. Of course, he knew that he wouldn't be able to see his eyes or his facial expression unless he had phenomenal eyesight. It was the tone of his voice, his height, everything about this situation. Even if it was a little girl, then he'd still be nervous, probably from the lack of human contact he had and that they'd be randomly busting into his home. If the world hadn't been torn up by bombs, then he was sure that no one would let themselves into a person's abode, but things were different now, from what he'd seen. A lot more different. As a man who had gone on supply raids himself, he knew it firsthand.

Deciding to trust him, this once, since he did have a gun and he would happily pull the trigger if he needed to. John reached over and flicked on the light, feeling oddly self-conscious. He looked like crap, he knew. His dark brown hair was messy and spiked, and bags beneath his eyes. There was stubble lining his jaw, and a fresh cut outlining his cheekbone from when he recently practiced with a knife. At least he was clean, having been able to wash himself. For some reason, he highly doubted that appearances would matter nowadays, so long as you had a weapon and maybe a little charisma. John's sarcasm kicked up by his fear, he made a gesture across the room. "Glad you could make it, just sit down anywhere and I'll get you some lunch." The man greeted, eyebrows arched. One of his fatal flaws was that he was brave in the face of danger, even if that meant a ridiculously tall guy who just came into his house.

[East.]

Autumn had walked around him and when she told her, she nodded, "Wow," She blinked, "Oh, Yeah, I can handle it myself," She climbed up it a little awkwardly, but she made it. She shook her head getting her hair out of her face and putting her hood back on. She put her arms back in her pocket and coughed. She breathed seeing her breathe in the air, slightly. She half-yawned and waited for him, Autumn blinked her amber eyes looking down as she waited.
(ERG, this was stupid X3 THE ICE CREAM IS MAKING ME NOT THINK!)

[amoxi]

If Sanguine had been tense before he seemed to freeze completely as soon as he heard a clicking sound, unnaturaly loud due to the fact that it had been silent up until now. Before the war, or under different circumstances, the male wouldn't have been alarmed by such a sound, for it could just be a lock being opened. However, since he was basically an intruder here and he could barely see anything, he was sure whoever the other was wouldn't just open a lock. No, he was pretty sure he had just heard the sound of a gun's savety being turned off.

'Well, f*ck. It actually might have been better trying to get to him and disarm him. Oh well, let's try and make the best out of it.' Sanguine was ripped out of his thoughts at the sound of a low, gravelly male voice. It sounded a lot like his, but he was pretty sure that this guy usually sounded like this, whereas Sanguine usually had a deep, but smooth voice. He just didn't use it enough. He tensed up once again as the man came out from under the table and rose to his full height. Of course it was nothing compared to his own, but he was already used to towering over others. It had always been that way. Still, it amused him and he barely was able to hold back his chuckles, lips twitching as he forced himself to be quiet. It just wouldn't be normal to laugh right now.

Suddenly the lights were flicked back on and Sanguine hissed lowly, quickly shielding his eyes, which were effictively blinded for a few seconds. The light wasn't very bright, but as bad as his vision in the dark was, his eyes were just as sensitive when it came to light. And that change of brightness had been way too sudden for them to adjust in time. He stood there a few seconds, eyes covered and having lost the urge to laugh, instead feeling a little annoyed that he hadn't been warned. However, as soon as his mind reminded him calmly that he was making himself even more vunerable he dropped his hands, blinking repeatedly as a light grey-blue and a completetly black eye finally found the man who owned this bomb shelter.

The first thing Sanguine noticed was the weapon pointed straight at him. 'Well, that's just lovely.' he thought sarcastically and, instead of thinking about which chances he had at dodging a bullet, he moved his eyes to the other guy's face. Messy brown hair and hazel green eyes, together with a cut he immediately recognized as a knife wound, after all he basically was a pro when it came down to sharp things and what marks they left. Bags under his eyes indicated lack of sleep, but Sanguine was pretty sure he had those, too. He hadn't really checked out how he looked, the only thing he was sure looked decent was his hair. Camilla had coaxed him into at least brushing it once a day, threathening to leave if he kept on not caring about his looks at all. 'Well, in the end she did just that, even if she didn't actually want to...'

Sanguine shook his head lightly, eyes gazing over the other's clothes. He himself possibly looked like he had just killed someone, with blood staining most of his white top's front and the white part of his bandana, his hand and face dirtied with blood as well. The other man's clothes were, even though obviously tattered, realtively well taken care of. He instantly recognized it as the uniform of this country, which eased his nervousness ever so slightly. 'Well, at least not someone who instantly has enemy written all over him.'

His eyes went up to his face again as the man spoke once more, each word dripping with unconcealed sarcasm as he told Sanguine to sit down so he could get him lunch. His smirk immediately returned, feeling amused at the others attitude.

"Why, thank you, but I prefer standing a lot more. Also, I've brought my own supplies with me, so don't worry, I'm fine for now. Unless, of course, you've got some beer. I'd gladly take a bottle or two, pup."
Yes, pup. His nickname had been decided. Not only was the other man a whole lot shorter than him, Sanguine was pretty sure that the brown-haired male was younger than him aswell. He couldn't be entirely sure of that, but the nickname just seemed to fit. And the tall, raven-haired man wasn't going to change his mind on this topic anymore. 'Well, he could alway try, I guess, but I'd be really frustrating... for him, that is.'

He chuckled lowly, eyes returning to the gun once again. He just couldn't help it, that damn thing made him extremely nervous. "... Ah, but where are my manners? Call me Sanguine, pup. Of course, you could also just call me San, Sangie... or demon-eye, just call me whatever you want to."