Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Malina on 27-02-2010, 02:07:57</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>27-02-2010, 02:07:57</strong>
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				<strong><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size">Germany, June 2019, Survivor's settlement in the former nature-sanctuary Siebengebirge (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siebengebirge) near Bonn (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bonn) </span></strong><br><br><div align="center">(http://i50.tinypic.com/2istnyf.jpg)</div><br><br><br><br>Preparation, the first thing on your list if you've got a chance to plan ahead. Franka lived by this rule, had made it her routine long before the outbreak. From climbing and Le Parkour, she knew that a small, seemingly negligible detail could prove crucial. Pack everything you need and nothing you don't, check your gear, choose your clothes wisely, and your shoes. <br><br>It was hot for June, the early sun glared over the trees like an angry, unblinking eye. With no weather forecast, she relied on instinct, observation and old Willi, who, like her, said this weather would hold for another week. It would be dreadfully hot under the clothes she'd be wearing for protection, her skin would scream to be allowed a breath of wind. Best not put on the jacket right away, only after leaving the safe territory. Well, what they called safe nowadays.<br><br>Instead, she began to wrap soft suede vambraces around her lower arms, once, twice, then laced and tied them and stuffed the ends between the two layers of leather. With a sigh, she repeated the procedure with a collar made from the same leather, covering her neck in two layers of suede that would hold off a bite. She must look weirdly kinky, she thought, wearing only underwear, a collar and vambraces. She put on leather trousers, pulled up her socks, then her boots, and fastened them. <br><br>With their thick soles, they were heavier and less flexible than she would have liked, but with her last tetanus shot ancient history, and after seeing what trouble stepping into a nail could end you in, it was better to put up with the boots and the noise they'd make. She slipped into her tank top, the one concession to her comfort she could risk making, for now, took the belt, checked the knife, a slingshot, a garotte, a ball of chalk in its leather pouch, a microfiber hammock in another, light, so small she could fit it into her fist. <br><br>Then she examined her rucksack, the machete fastened along the side, the provisions, the rope, the gun with ammunition, the picklock she had so conveniently found last year, the hat, most hated of all items, in the summer. Long hair was an invitation to be seized by it, too short hair offered no protection against the sun, but as soon as it was long again for that, it could be grabbed. Alternative: A hat that would come off when clutched at. Hot, itching, but unavoidable in the city, ruled Franka, grimacing.<br><br><div class="floatright">&nbsp; (http://i50.tinypic.com/2eev61z.jpg)</div>Her next occasion to pull a face came when she stepped out into the sun, blinking, to be greeted with a pad on the shoulders and a cheerful. "Look, there she is, our apocalyptic Strider." All these Lord of the Ring references, that Klaus never grew tired of them. In terms of Tolkien, he looked like a king size Hobbit, but she suspected he rather fancied himself a Rohirrim. He'd never learn the last thing she wanted when setting out was being distracted, held up, talked rubbish to in an attempt to cheer her up. As proved his next comment. "Robinia Hood - wait, where's the cap, fair maid?"<br><br>"You'll find it in your mouth if you don't shut up, oh valiant Sir Marian." She grinned, pushing past him. Along with Klaus' chuckle, a girl's giggle was heard, only to be stifled immediately. Jasmine, of course. Now, there was a clever one, an orphaned child the community had taken in some years ago, she wanted protection and affection, and she knew exactly how to get it, even from Franka. About ten years of age and the only child here, she'd pursue Franka with the fierce, single minded loyalty and admiration a child would sometimes develop for the most unlikely candidate. <br><br>From the beginning, she had completely ignored Franka's unwillingness to talk, soon read her expressions and postures like a book, reacted to her every mood like one of these colour-changing rings. Once she had fathomed the depths of Franka's well-hidden but profound goodnaturedness, she might as well have been glued to her. Franka could push her away as far as possible, she'd only bounce back to her, grinning, sly, adorable. Just as she was now, when her repressed giggle resulted in Franka's hand being held out for her. <br><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/v832i0.jpg)&nbsp; &nbsp; </div>This meant Jasmine could come along up to the second ringfort. Her hand was clammy, and Franka peered down into that small serious face. How small she was for her age, malnutrition did that. Of the few children who had made it through, most were small, light boned, with eyes that could have belonged to someone ten times their age. Franka knew what was wrong. Five years ago, maybe three, even, and she would have said something along the lines of 'I'll be fine, don't worry.' or 'I'll be back.'. Such nonsense, even small kids knew whoever left their sight might never come back.<br><br>With less luck, someone would die right in front of them, and it might be their turn next. Or they might not die at all, but turn into a monster and try to eat the kiddie. So, both thinking much the same, they went on in silence, avoiding to let dry branches or bones snap under their feet. They kept their eyes and ears open, but were relaxed, reading the signs that assured them they were safe. With the bright morning sun twinkling in dew covered spiderwebs, listening to birds singing and bees humming, in the forest that slowly became a wilderness, it was easy to believe they might be. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>27-02-2010, 08:47:50</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Crash site of U.S. military plane, somewhere near Bonn</strong></span><br><br>(http://img444.imageshack.us/img444/7650/032309c17800.jpg)<br>(Not exact image I wanted, but it was too hard to find a good, crashed c-17 :P )<br><br><em>6 months ago...</em><br><br><em>"Fire! fire! mayday! mayday! we're going down! I repeat, we're going down!"</em><br><br>Jacob rose with a start, having been sleeping for the past thirteen hours, or how ever long the plane flight from New York City had been. The large c-17 airplane was filled with the sound of alarms, and he could see every official bustling about the plane in a panicked sort of way. "Hey, what the fuck is wrong?" Jacob called out, unable to help but yawn as he quickly stood up. "Engine number one caught fire," A solider replied before quickly hurrying past Jacob. Jacob sighed, then began to look around for he was suddenly jolted back into his seat as the plane tipped downwards even further. "Fuck.." he mumbled to himself as he got back to his feet. Jacob was one of the four Blackwater agents assigned to this plane, sent on a mission to secure the borders of Europe from some sort of 'poison'. Poison had been the only thing he'd heard at least. JAcob had jumped at the opportunity, as it had been much better than going back over to Iraq...but now he was almost wishing he'd taken the other option.<br><br>Jacob grabbed onto the hand railing as he carefully made his way up to the second floor where the cockpit was. He didn;'t even bother to knock on the door as he opened it. "What the hell is going on?" He asked. The co-pilot turned to him, a grin look on his face. "Engine caught fire, then it spread to the next. We've got no choice but to crash land, sir," he replied. "Better strap in, cause we're approaching fast. Jacob cursed, then turned to make his way back down the steps to the main level of the large airplane. It was a hectic scene. The alarms were blaring, and people were running about, trying to get back to their seats. He could smell the smoke already, and could see the two engines on the right side of the plane on fire. Cursing again, the airplane began to pick up speed, causing him to fall back into his seat. He then buckled himself in for the bumpy ride ahead...<br><br>In a few more moments, Jacob was aware of a loud skidding noise, and a thud that nearly shot him out of his seat from the velocity. The next thing he knew, his head slammed back against the wall, and he was out cold....<br><br><em>6 Months later, current day...</em><br><br>Jacob, along with the other Blackwater agents, had been sent with a military force to oversee the securing of Europe's borders, but then the airplane had caught fire, and they had been forced to crash land. Both pilots had been seriously wounded, and those who hadn't strapped in, were either in critical condition, or dead. There had been maybe ten survivors total, including the other three Blackwater agents.<br><br>"We're stuck in this shithole, for who the hell knows how long," Agent Diaz complained. "How longs it been now, 6 months? We'd be better off out there on foot, chancing it with those...things," He said. During the course of the past six months, the survivors had come to realize that the 'poison' had turned whatever human life there had been, into savage, blood thirsty cannibals. The fuckers were fast moving, and loved to come in hordes. Thankfully the airplane hadn't been beaten up too badly. The cockpit had been crushed, and the right wing torn completely off, but the cabin had ended up in good shape. There was no way any of the fuckers could get in, unless someone was dumb enough to let them in.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://img40.imageshack.us/img40/4741/26hurt600.jpg)</div><br>"Well, there's the door," Jacob replied, somewhat sick of Diaz's constant complaining. "If you want out of here so bad, then go head. No one's stopping you," He replied. Diaz suddenly marched over to Jacob, pinning him against the wall, "What was that, smartass?" he fumed, moving his face close to Jake's. "You know, with no one around, I outta kill you right now, you little shit,"He growled. That was all it took for Jacob to have enough of him..forever. Without warning, his fist lunged forward into Diaz's abdomen, puncturing it with his glock combat knife. "And I've had enough of you," He replied, keeping his cool as the knife blade slid out, slick with Diaz's blood. Diaz staggered back, glancing down to the knife wound. But without warning, Jacob stepped forward and thrust the sharp blade into Diaz again, this time right in his chest. Then in a smooth motion, he removed the knife, watching as Diaz clutched onto his chest before he stumbled to the ground, dead, blood oozing out of the deep knife wounds.<br><br>Jacob bent down a little, then wiped the blade of his knife along Diaz's sleeve before sheathing it. If they were all going to survive, then they couldn't be constantly bickering. and with Diaz out of the way, their chances of survival were much greater. Jake had known Diaz had been a bad choice, and he'd argued to try to make sure he wouldn't be apart of the team sent to Europe, but his supervisor had seen things differently. Now the team was down to 5 individuals that could actually do something. The others were critically injured, or had died off from their injuries. Another had had a run in with the infected, and had ended up as one of them....
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				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>27-02-2010, 20:38:38</strong>
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				She had passed the outer enclosure they called the second ringfort and taken leave of little Jasmine, who had looked pale and worried again, close to tears. With no idea how to cheer her up, Franka had merely tousled her hair and winked, making it as short a goodbye as possible. One of the men at the gate had been old Willi, a master story teller in his own way, he would take care of Jasmine, she knew. Franka watched the giant metal door swing close behind her. They had found a clever trick to make the brambles and ivy creep up all over it. Once it was securely shut, there was no telling what lay behind it, it looked like just another thicket, crawling over stones and bushes. <br><br>She bent down to pull the boat from under a bush, turned it and pushed it into the water. The lake lay calm before her, its deep water undisturbed. A perfect protection, the lake, the infected couldn't swim. It was an artificial lake, sort of, an ingenious idea brought up by Rolf, the gaunt engineer who once had constructed bridges. There had been a lake before, long ago, so, with tremendous effort, digging and building a damn further up, they had guided the river back into its former bed. Which had created the lake. Now, the settlement was one of the safest places imaginable, hidden and protected on one side by the mountain, on the other by the water. <br><br>She fastened the rope to the boat, made sure the other end was securely tied to a tree, and began to row towards the opposite shore. All was still peaceful, animals following their usual routines, not a sound out of place, not a scent in the air was wrong. One could smell most infected from miles away since the corpses strewn everywhere after the gas attack had been picked bare of their rotting flesh. Now, the air was clean, unpolluted, too, and the dirt, blood and rotting tissue infected usually had sputtered all over them gave them away even when they were hibernating or standing stock still, staring into nothingness, as sometimes they would. <br><br>Nonetheless, before she reached the shore, Franka fastened her tank top to her pants and slipped into the leather jacket, closing the zipper all the way up. She pulled over the rucksack, made sure she could easily reach and draw the machete. The slingshot was little use in the woods, but once in the open, if she saw them early enough, she could noiselessly remove an infected before it could start screaming. It had taken excruciatingly long to learn how to use the slingshot, she had almost given up, but now, she was fast, sure, precise. It was small, light, efficient, easy to replace and find ammunition for. She pulled out her binoculars and scanned the tree-lines, then paddled towards the shore. She left the boat, placed the paddles inside and pushed it back out into the lake. The others would draw it back later. From now on, she was on her own.<br><br>Three hours later, she had almost reached the valley. No incident, nothing alarming to see or hear even in the distance. But her tension rose with every moment. She would be in the open soon, with no place to hide, easy to spot. She must cross the former farmland, meadows and fields of oat, wheat and rye, some canola. You could still what had been where, despite the fact it all had turned into a sea of hay now, wild flowers and herbs everywhere, and clouds of butterflies dangling from poppies, lady's smocks, yarrow, clover, chamomile and thistles. It looked like an idyllic scenery, and it was, in a way. Until you noticed the skeletons of cows and sheep that had died here, screaming in anguish with their udders infected and nearly bursting, then fallen upon by infected, or wild dogs. <br><br>Still, cows had survived, most of them living in herds, roaming about. A few had been caught or never been neglected, were milk cows still, but most ran wild these days and where hunted for meat. Horses had made it, too, had become shy, almost wild, but the older ones still remembered humans had taken care of them. The people up across the valley had taken to riding again, to plough fields with horses, make them pull carts. But where she was heading, a horse without horseshoes couldn't go, while with them, it would be too noisy and still prone to injure its legs. Or to whinny and run off in just the wrong moment, if, and that wasn't likely, horses could be persuaded to go anywhere near a city.&nbsp; <br><br>After scanning the valley, Franka stepped into the sun's glare. A wall of heat hit her. That would only get worse the further down she descended. And it wasn't midday yet. She moved on at a steady pace, stayed in the fields, the swaying ocean of grass and flowers the wind rippled. She looked at the cracked country lanes winding through the valley, rusty cars, a tractor, toppled, bits of clothes flapping in the breeze. It was when she crossed the fifth field and could see around the hill to her right that she spotted something down there, far away in the distance, something that hadn't been there before, looked entirely wrong and yet had a familiar shape. She pulled out her binoculars and inspected it. An airplane. She squinted, focussed, zoomed and zoomed, then read. U.S. Air Force. Unbelievable! Where had that come from? Why? 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 15:17:37</strong>
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				<div align="center"><strong>Pearl Harbor-Hickam AFB, Hawaii<br>1930H LOCAL - 0630H TARGET<br>Tarmat 02-01-A<br>Winds NW-W 8 mph<br>MC-130 Combat Talon 'Daytona Six-Five'</strong></div><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r60/KristieAndreaParker/mc-130e-11.jpg)</div> Senior Chief Petty Officer Hackett stood at the base of the ramp leading into the pitch black cargo hold of the MC-130 Talon with full parajump gear on, excluding the helmet and breathing gear. All in all, she was easily twice her normal size with everything strapped on. Of course the frown and bead of sweat rolling down her forehead told another story. She was lugging around close to 100 pounds of gear, and that was more than three quarters of her overall body mass, but she soldiered on. The frown on the other hand, was with the idea of taking untrained jumpers into a HALO at night over hostile territory. HALO jumps were dangerous enough with trained personnel but throw in civilians and things got hecktic quickly. Of course Anna had to remember not to get over-come by her nerves and let things play out. She finally took to leaning against the side of the aircraft and everything went through her head. She looked around the oranged bathed landing strip of Hickam, several small vehicles were moving about as a flight of two F-15's wailed overhead, Anna couldn't help but watch and smile. The sun was going down, just barely cresting the horizon around the ocean.<br><br>She'd done a lot of HALO jumps, most after the infection spread but a few before. The best, for her, in terms of stories to be told were ones where you jumped near urban centers. At the very start of the evacuation, most cities had power. And she had to jump with night vision. Everything, millions of little lights bathed in a green hue glittered the pitch black ground below, if there were cars some were moving. It was heart pounding, opening up the ramp and being greeted by thousands of little green flickers of light. Of course the beauty of the view from the sky was diminished by the infected and chaos on the ground. Gunfire, explosions and screaming were all you could hear the first few rescue jumps.<br><br>But all of that was a simple lead up to now. Today would be the hardest jump of her life, if for no other reason than every jump was the hardest. The SEAL motto, '<em>The only easy day was yesterday</em>' embodied her feelings best. Two days ago she'd been sleeping herself into submission reading over the newspaper and playing hockey or basketball with other SEALs, and today she was without anyone she could trust, not easily at least. She checked the small watch on her right wrist and sighed, waiting for the other members of her team to show up. As she waited though, Anna ran through what she'd explain and what she'd leave them to figure out or just ignore all together. She knew two of them were military which helped, but most service units did not train their soldiers in HALO or HAHO jumping. Only special missions units, like Special Forces, trained in such jumps, though almost all military personnel had some form of jump training.<br><br>It still didn't help that she was sitting here waiting, though that couldn't be helped. She enjoyed being first here, it allowed her to get comfortable in her jump gear and get all the links out. With this much gear on, things tend to ride up or move around in uncomfortable ways until you found that perfect way to move that didn't result in discomfort. In the back of her head, Anna was actually quite tired, but she planned to sleep on the plane up until the jump or around then. The rumble of the engines and idea of being 30,000 feet in the air comforted Anna, or at least allowed her to sleep sitting nearly straight up with 100 pounds of gear on her body.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 18:33:30</strong>
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				Derrick had just recently put on his gear, a soft grunt could be heard as he slipped on the helmet. He was not a fan of jumps, having had to make them several times when he was a special operative. It was neccesary though, they couldn't very well just land in the middle of hostile territory. <br><br>Derrick stood motionless for a second as he remembered a mission in Darfur, a HALO jump similar to the one the group would be undertaking was utilized. Derrick was playing babysitter on that assignment too ironically enough. There had been some miscommunication, one of the aagents jumped the gun and they were fired upon as they landed. Most of that team had been slain in that engagement. Derrick felt that if you are stupid, and involved in the world of black ops your shelf life is limited. Still, those men had family. One of them had just became a father and Derrick could only pity the man's family. It was an ugly thing to die for your country and not to be recognized. Why? Because technically you don't exist. Derrick sighed and muttered gently <em>"Why do I do this? How can I live like this?"</em> A moment later he chuckled and answered himself <em>"Shit, how else could I live?"</em><br><br>The weary man made his way towards their vehicle, his eyes stopped on a feminine form. Hackett he rationalized, she was comfortable in the gear. So it couldn't have been the scientist. Walking up to her he remarked <em>"You know? Even under 100 pounds of gear and technology, you're still as captivating a woman as any I've met, Hackett....I think I might just have problems with focus regarding the mission." </em> The last part was definitely a joke, however she was still a very interesting prospect. One that Derrick fully intended on exploring somewhere down the road. Taking on a more serious tone, he said gently <em>"Oh. Something I had forgot to mention earlier. You will want to keep an eye on our little scientist. A lot of survivors? They have less inhibition in today's world and women, especially attractive women are seen as a valuable resource. Just wanted to make you aware of that."</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 18:46:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i183.photobucket.com/albums/x111/Lammy519/flip-b.jpg)</div>Ashleigh felt weird. Really, really, weird. It's not everyday that you're sitting in the middle of a hangar while someone is spewing jargon at you more like he was showing off than really trying to help her understand. The one thing that she did catch, however, is that there was that she was going to have to jump out of a plane on her own, but there was an automatic parachute activation device that would more or less do all the work for her. Her skydiving 101 instructor did well enough to teach her any sort of form that was required, but the detail he stressed most was simply just to follow Hackett's lead. <br><br>While the instructor spoke, he and Ashleigh both worked together to get her suited up for the jump. The scientist did manage to get her one-piece military grade combat suit! Sort of. It was considered light, with necessary plates and sheets of protective what-have-you only wherever it was deemed necessary - the vitals, around joints, etc. The usual weight that a fully equipped paratrooper would have was supplemented by state of the art research tools. Or at least mobile ones. Despite how much this man was playing up how useful she will find everything, Ashleigh was fairly confident that she would enjoy finding a lab of some sort. This was Germany they were talking about after all.<br><br>Though it was strapped to her leg, neither of the two talked about it. A pistol of an incredibly modern looking make, its rubber grip something that Ashleigh had a hard time telling herself not to reach for it. There was a knife somewhere in her ensemble of black gear, but she'd spend the time to look for it when the time comes. All dressed up to go on a mission with plenty of danger, Ashleigh went on to huge plane in question to find Hackett standing about. Eager was another word that she could put under that woman's name.<br><br>"How do I look?" Ashleigh asked jokingly, placing her hands on her hips (though one held the helmet she would be wearing) in her best attempt to look tough. The girl's hair was put up in a loose bun at the back of her head and her Wayfarer sunglasses seemed to actually make her look like someone who jumped out of planes frequently. Just as she finished asking her question, however, she caught sight of Derrick again. Without posing the question again, the scientist did however pose a second time in his direction just to try and stir a response from him. They both looked incredibly comfortable in their massive amounts of gear, a stark contrast to Ashleigh who was comfortable enough, but carrying a mere fraction of the weight they were.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 19:24:13</strong>
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				Glancing over at Ashleigh for a second, Derrick considered her before offering <em>"Like a one woman army?"</em> A slight smile came onto his face before he said <em>"So I take it you were speaking to an instrutor regarding the jump?"</em><br><br>One of his eyebrows perked up as he looked down at the young woman's leg. Viewing the pistol he said <em>"Hmm, interesting.....one thing you will want to remember is to use the sight on the gun. Also squeeze the trigger, don't pull it and if you can? Always fire from the shoulder."</em> That instructor in him was dying to be released. Derrick had always derived a level of satisfaction from teaching others self defense. Several of his students had this incident never took place would have gone on to become some of the most dangerous martial artists on the planet. <em>"Personally? I can't wait for this jump to be over, I was never really a fan of them."</em><br><br>Looking off into the distance, Derrick couldn't help but wonder how the situation in Germany was now. When he left, it was the worst form of Anarchy he had ever witnessed. But now? Hell on Earth would be putting it kindly. All the same, the mission wasn't to try to bring stability to the country. The time for that was passed, so he did breathe a slight sigh of relief. At that thought, Derrick raised his eyebrow. It was the first time inside of his mind he actually associated himself with the actual mission. That was surprising, he would have to remind himself where his priorties were.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 22:11:05</strong>
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				Jacob looked down on the dead body of Diaz, wondering what to do with it. Surely if they dumped the body outside the plane, the infected would be able to catch its scent. And the last thing they needed was a horde of those things trying to rip them all to pieces. Jacob and his team had gone out to explore the surrounding area, though they had made sure not to venture too far from the safety of the plane. Even with how heavily armed they all were, the sheer noise of the gunfire would attract even more of the infected, and then they would be head over heels in trouble. "You coming with us, Daniel?" One of the soldier's called out, snapping Jacob from his thoughts. Coming with us? "Where the hell are you going?" He asked, leaning back against the wall. "Well, if we all stay here, we're going to die one way or another, whether it be from starvation, or from those damned things out there," the solider said with a reply.<br><br>"If you go you there, you're going to die. All of you," Jake responded. "Just look what happened to Andrews.." Andrews had ventured a little too far off from the plane, and hadn't made it back alive. The rest of the team had gone in search of him, and found his dead body being picked to the bones by a group of the infected. But Jake wasn't going to stop them. And he knew he couldn't. Then with that, the rest of the team grabbed their gear, then headed up the stairs to where the cockpit was. The team had been using the large area where the windshield had been as their door. It was high enough off the ground, that no matter what, the infected couldn't get it. Though they had made sure to close off the cockpit well, just in case.<br><br>Once the rest of the team was out, Jake made his way up to make sure the door had been latched tight. He sighed softly, then leaned against the door, knowing that with, or without the team, the chance of survival wasn't that great. The plane was crashed out in the middle of Germany, somewhere near the city of Bonn. "Fuck..." he mumbled before turning to hop back down the stairs. The main latch at the back was most likely still functional, though they hadn't chanced using it with the worry they wouldn't be able to get it back&nbsp; up fast enough, or at all. The emergency lighting in the plane had stopped working months ago, so they'd been stuck with flashlights. Though at night, the team had learned it was best to keep the lights off as to not attract any of the infected.<br><br>Just then, Jake heard gun fire, then several screams. He immediately snatched up his rifle, a M4A1 with a scope attached, then sprinted up the steps. He unbolted the door, then climbed out of the cockpit and onto the nose of the large cargo plane before climbing up on top. He brought the rifle up to his shoulder, then looked through the sighs, scanning the area until he saw a solider running back towards the plane, a group of ten infected close on his tail. Jake got down in the prone position,then squeezed his finger down on the trigger, dropping one of the infected, then another. He wasn't quick enough though, as the rest caught up to the soldier, pouncing on him. "Fuck.." Jake murmured, before squeezing the trigger again. And as he did, he saw the soldiers head explode. The infected heard the gunshots, then looked towards the plane. As they were running, Jake had the time to pick them off one by one, as they were a good fifty yards away...<br><br>By the looks of i t, the rest of the team had been ambushed as well. "Fuck it.." Jake murmured before standing back up. He needed to find the rest of the team, even if that meant venturing out. it didn';t matter if they were dead or not. They had ammunition, and other critical supplies, and Jake figured they couldn't be more than a football field away from the airplane, if they were all dead that is.<br><br>Jake checked his belt and jacket pouches to make sure he had enough ammunition as he made his way back down into the airplane. This hadn't been intended as a stealth mission, but Jake wanted to keep quiet, hence why he'd made sure to pack a silencer. He found his main bag, then dug through one of the pouches, finding what he was looking for. He attached the silencer, which would hopefully cut the noise down enough as not to attract too much attention.<br><br>Once he was equipped, Jacob made his way back to the cockpit. He knew he didn't have long before more infected surely arrived, so he started off at a brisk jog, keeping a close look out on the surrounding area. He soon passed the site where the infected and the solider lie dead. Sighing, he continued on, and it didn't take long before Jake stumbled upon the site of the rest of the team. Their bodies laid strewn about in a bloody mess, deep gashes and bite marks left on every part of their bodies. Jake shook his head and sighed, then bent down to pick up one of the supply bags, making sure to be care to not touch any of the blood. And just as he was doing that, he heard movement coming from further down. He glanced up, and to his horror, he saw another group of infected charging towards him through the brush..<br><br>Jake jumped up, then with the bag in hand, turned and started for the airplane, sprinting as fast as he could, the infected on his tail...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>02-03-2010, 07:17:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Of course, she could not go there, not now. It was too far, she was expected back, as soon as she had the medicine, she must return. Before she had become part of the group, back in the years where she had often been alone and done only what she thought right and wanted, she would have instantly headed towards the plane, at least close enough to observe it from a safe distance. But these days, she would not risk to die in an attempt to spy out what went on down there, and thus to die without her people being warned of - well, what? Was there an army coming?<br><br>She shook herself out of it, that rushing of thoughts through her mind, the fears and hopes. Calm. She needed calm, a clear and focussed mind, there was no distraction she could afford, not ever. She could think about it all later, when it was safe, when there was nothing she must do first. She looked around, searching for the slightest change, a missing piece, an addition, and detected none. Good. She couldn't have been distracted by the plane for more than thirty seconds, before that, at least her ears had payed attention. <br><br>Maybe it could count as an excuse that this plane, useless as it must be now, was the first proof any of them had ever seen in six years that out there, somewhere, a world still existed in which what they once had taken for granted, for normal, must still exist. So, had the gas attack been successful? It must have been, right? In the USA, there were people living who manned and flew airplanes. Maybe ate ice cream and went shopping, lived as if nothing had ever happened. People who flew airplanes. Over Europe. Where no plane had been seen in all these years. Why was that so, and why was one here, now? 'Later!' She sharply reminded herself, and pushed it out of her mind.<br><br>She continued on her way, determined, but more nervous now, tense, and therefore, angry. Change. It usually meant someone had come and maybe gone again, who could have taken away something she'd need, or that there was or would be new activity among the infected, these stinkers. Not that there was much change among those, as a whole, not once in six years. They didn't have it in them to evolve,&nbsp; weren't precisely smart. Impossible to say what had taken more damage in their brains, the short term or the long term memory. The sentence 'out of sight, out if mind' couldn't hold more truth for any other creature in the world. <br><br>As soon as they were a few days old and wreaking of their own stench, their sense of smell was practically self-disabled, no wonder one never saw them sniff or anything of the kind. When she found one by itself, could be quite sure there was only this single one around, she'd sometimes experiment, to see what caught their attention, what broke it, what made them pursue her in a rage, what slowed them. They were so thick they'd charge straight on, arms flailing or outstretched, grabbing. When she held out a spear, they impaled themselves on it, just to get at her. <br><br>That sort of thing was risky, of course, you avoided such stunts if you didn't know whether you were immune or not. Franka was, she had learned of it the hard way, having been bitten. God, the panic, for hours, days, weeks, watching that infested bite swell, then heal, miraculously, like any other nasty, dirty wound. Afterwards, that had opened a range of possibilities she'd not dared consider before. Now, she hardly cared whether her method of killing them forced her to get close, have their blood gush over her. It was disgusting, sure, but not deadly. Why waste ammunition and make a racket more of them would hear from miles away when you could slice and stab? <br><br>When she was in her blackest of moods, she found it amusing to get rid of them, she'd jump from a balcony to, say, a roof, and watch them lunge after her and plummet down, metres away from the roof. Or to make them drown, it was crazy, once in the water, they'd just start to breathe it in. Of course, she then had to wait till they were dead and get them out, or they'd poison the water, which wasn't funny at all. For at least two years after the outbreak, she had hated these stinkers so badly she had leaped at every opportunity to kill them. Slaughter, payback time, it had felt good to take all that anger, fear and despair out on them. She had joined a few of those groups who meant to rid whole cities of them. They hadn't even been bad, not at all. <br><br>The thing was, one went in with ten people, could kill hundreds of the stinkers, get out with, say, seven or eight people - and hadn't really gained much. Their numbers were always against the uninfected. Better to wait till the problem solved itself. It must solve itself, these stinkers were alive, ergo, they could die, would die, must die. Hibernation or not, they must eventually run out of energy. By now, most animals stayed clear of the cities. Unlike in those first years, there wasn't much food coming their way. Sometimes, she had nightmares of the stinkers realising this and abandoning the cities, dragging their bodies along like zombies in the old horror trash.<br><br>Her foot made the first step onto asphalt. She pulled out her hat and put it on. It was past midday now, sweat ran down her spine, she was thirsty, and the sight of the plane had put her in a rotten mood. She made her way around the cars that had come to a sudden halt here years ago, never to be moved again. Some had crashed into each other, some into a tree, some had burned out, some just stood there, doors wide open, window's smashed, traces of blood and pounding, clawing hands everywhere. Hard to tell by now of the brown stains which was rust, which blood. Half an hour later, she turned the corner of the first building. It was a small village, she'd never been here, but it was promising, well out of the way of most plunderers. <br><br>She stayed in the glare of the sun, careful not to make a sound, quite a challenge, with all the shards of glass, the bones and whatnot lying everywhere. She knew there were infected here, their stink gave them away, but even more, the silence. Not a sound, no birds singing, no fluttering of wings, no scurrying, even rats avoided these places, no animal would stray here. Were they still alive, she wondered, after six years? For how many years had they seen not a scratch of food? She glanced around, marking escape routes. There were windows left unbroken, and absurdly, the showcase in front of the church, too, the usual notes cluttering it. <br><br>'Frau Berthold, your children are safe, evacuation transport 43719, make haste to catch up, you've got a place on their plane.' Yup. That train had never made it. Far outside the evacuation zone, it had stopped. A nightmare, to kill all those infected kiddies, so difficult, without guns, just kicking. And she had been so afraid of the blood, then. One had to aim so low, they were so fast, their screams so shrill, and they didn't get it, really, not that early - those kids, their little faces, round cheeks, fluffy hair, they had still looked so normal, still with tears on their faces, clutching some doll or plushie.<br><br>They had been different, kiddie stinkers, they had cried. In the first years, when there were still more, they'd hear them wailing and sobbing everywhere, and couldn't tell them apart, just by the sound, from real children, living, uninfected ones. She didn't want to know how many that had gotten killed. So natural, to go after the sound, ready to find, comfort, safe a helpless toddler. Well, that didn't happen often anymore. Stinkers ate them. The wailing sent them into a craze, kept them restless, then, at some point, they'd bite, rip, blood would gush out and their instincts kick in. <br><br>So, obviously no telling whether, as she had wondered in the beginning, kiddie stinkers would grow up eventually. They didn't stand a chance, just like the other kids, the real ones. She didn't want to know how many people got themselves killed protecting wailing infants and toddlers, or older kids shrieking in horror, nor how many had killed the children they had with them rather than have their howling lure hordes of infected their way. She shook it all off, the memories and speculations, and looked around. Time to find the medicine, if they had it. She crossed what served as a market place.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 15:53:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				((hehe...^^;))<br><br>He returned to his room after emptying another clip. He could feel a slight ache on his shoulder, an old wound from his first mission. It wasn't really a hindrance, mostly a reminder that things could go from good to screwed up in a really short time. The wound had been superficial, nothing serious, but it always ached when he shot so fast, just like that time.<br><br>Once in his room he finished packing and got in his field uniform, as he called it. Utem took out a medallion from his bag and slid inside one of his gloves. It was a charm, given to him by his mother for protection when he was born. He had always worn it when training and on missions, somehow he had always returned in one piece. Kneeling down he muttered a short prayer and then bowed once, before getting up and rushing to the hangar with a his bag.<br><br>He wasn't particularly nervous about the jump, it wasn't the first time he did it and he hoped it wasn't the last. Putting on his gear, he checked every piece for any wore down parts or damages, it seemed to be ok. He took a quick glance at the Talon, "Daytona Six-Five" he muttered heading to where the rest of the team was, his helmet in his hand.<br><br>"There he goes again." he thought, overhearing Derrick's conversation with Hackett. "Like you are ready for the jump." he told Ashleigh with a grin. "Nervous or eager? Perhaps a bit both?" he asked her, once Derrick had finished talking, he wasn't quite fond of the man, but it wasn't in his or the mission's best interest to stir him up. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 17:36:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett remained silent throughout the conversation, she was focusing on Ashleigh's gear. Derrick was carrying a bit to much, but that didn't matter if he could get himself down on the ground, as Utem showed up she noted he too had a bit to much, but again, didn't doubt he could get down. But to the conversations she was distant at best, she didn't really want to shoot anyone down or come off as cold right now, but this was pre-mission and flirty stuff and fun were of no use to anyone if they wanted to live, HALO jumps were hard to say the very least. "<strong>Alright, now that your all here, I'm going to give you all... a quick explanation of the junk your wearing and what to do before jumping, and when you jump, and when you land.</strong>" Anna stood up fully and spread her legs out, putting the thick black helmet on her head and clipping the oxygen mask so it was hanging off the right side of her helmet. <br><br>"<strong>First off, you should all be wearing a full body suit of Nomex and polyester. You need to have a hood up, and be zipped up to the neck and have it closed over again with the small flap next to the zipper. This is a jumpsuit. The materials maintain your body heat and block the cold and extreme air speed and pressure to your skin. While wearing your jumpsuit and helmet and mask, you should have no exposed skin at all. If you do, we need to fix that. At 30,000 feet and screaming down to the ground at 200 miles an hour, you can be frostbitten in seconds and more importantly, you might succum to what we call puffing.</strong>" Anna pulled on her sleeve to expose her wrist. "<strong>Puffing occurs when a rush of air penetrates your suit and cannot exit again, its essentially like standing under a fan with the air blowing up your shirt, it puffs out. Here however, at even 20,000 feet, the air pressure combined with speed could easily cause you severe respiration problems by putting intense pressure on your chest, and it also messes up your air resistance by making you bigger. Make sure you have no explosed skin or loose areas on your clothing before we jump.</strong>" Hackett pointed to the large bag on her back over her shoulder and turned slightly. "<strong>This is chute one, hereby referece to as your jump main. This is your main and primary jumping parachute. This-</strong>" She pointed to a small clip on her left shoudler. "<strong>-is your pull cord. You guys have advanced versions that will automatically pull at my set altitude, but keep your hand on this at all times when I pull my chute, if you don't pull within 3 seconds of me or the person in front of you, pull this immediately. If this fails, pull the cord on your right thigh to hit your secondary. If both fail, turn yourself around to your back and spread your arms and legs as far as you can and radio me. Assuming my primary didn't fail, I'll cut and try to get you.</strong>" Anna stopped for a second and looked at the scientist. "<strong>Now don't assume your chute will fail, there is a less than 2% chance these chutes will fail. I packed them all myself.</strong>"<br><br>Anna turned around again and spread her legs apart, raising her arms straight out and bending at the elbow at 90 degrees. "<strong>Alright, this is your fall formation. Arms out and legs slightly apart at about shoulder distance. This creates good air resistance but does not create to much, allowing you to fall at a good pace. If you need to turn, tilt your body either way and straighten your arms at your side, try and stay parallel to the ground as you descend, this way when your chute opens you don't drift to much and try to stay near me. It'll be hard to see, but your helmet visors have integrated night enhancement and I'll have an IR strobe on my back, so keep an eye on the bright flashy light on me, you'll be able to see my chute open as well. When you hit the ground, keep your legs straight and firm and let your body topple. Do not, under any circumstances, let anything other than your feet hit the ground first, and don't bend your knees. Your legs will snap, land feet first and let your body fall to the ground. Collect your weapon, check your surroundings. Pack your chute in the bag, and find me. Simple.</strong>" Anna nodded, pointing to her mask. "<strong>Finally, I will tell you all when to put your mask on. This is 100% oxygen, and because we're at 30,000 feet and the oxygen is thin, you need to keep this on at all times or you will pass out. Also, once I tell you, keep them on and do not take them off. Staying on 100% oxygen will decrease nitrogen levels in your blood. If you do not do this, your veins will pop with the extreme change in air pressure as you fall. If you've ever gone deep sea diving, you know what decompression sickness is, and that will happen if you are not on 100% for at least 1 hour pre-jump.</strong>"<br><br>Anna clipped her breathing mask on and looked at everyone through the tinted visor. "<strong>Thats it lady and gents, thats parachuting 101. We will pop cords at 1000 feet after a 29,000 foot fall, ETA to ground from aircraft is between 2 and 5 minutes, so keep your wits about you and focus on me. If I radio you a distress, pull your cords immediately, and stay abirth of each other, don't bunch up. Anything to ask, ask me on the plane. Lets roll.</strong>" With that, Anna unclipped her oxygen mask and stepped up the ramp and into the main cargo area of the MC-130.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 17:50:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh just gave curious looks to both Derrick and Utem. Compared to either of them, she looked like a girl scout. "Well, looks like we're all here. May as well get this over with sooner rather than later, hmm?" She was more or less bluffing at this point, as she was scared as hell to be jumping out of this plane on her own. How long would the flight be? Eighteen hours? That's enough time to come to terms with the fact that your life is dependant on this little device properly deploying a sheet of some sort of nylon. <br><br>Stepping up to the ramp, she turned on her heel about half way up. "Oh, I'll try to keep all of that in mind, Derrick... I just hope I never really have to use it. That's what you guys are all for anyway, right?" Ashleigh wasn't sure if she was tooting her own horn, making herself up to be so much more than a simple scientist and into a VIP, but it was partially true. Without her, there wouldn't be much of a mission. These guys are military trained and no doubt have some sort of education behind them, but she really doubted any of them wanted to take the time to examine charts and research notes of any of her German counterparts for hours. <br><br>In the shadow that the plane was creating, as well as the setting sun, Ashleigh took off her sunglasses. Grey eyes with a tinge of green looked over each and every one of her teammates, sizing them up now that they were really dressed for the mission. From what she understood, Hackett was the only true and blue member of the military, whilst the others are trained mercenaries with quite the resumes under their arms, no doubt. It would probably be in the scientist's best interest to stick with Hackett as the other two were more likely than not in it for themselves.<br><br>If that was the case, Ashleigh's current secondary objective was to get Hackett's first name.<br><br>((This is where I find out that DA posted like, seconds before me. lol))<br><br>As if to prove her point in terms of who to trust, Hackett went straight into her own parachuting 101. Ashleigh immediately started to admire the authority that the woman possessed. She was a strong soul in an even stronger body. Admittedly, the young adult found herself wondering just how strong that body was as the lecture was in session. Zoning in and out wasn't the most brilliant of ideas for Ashleigh, however, as her explanation was far beyond anything that the man who suited her up was. <br><br>When Hackett finished, she walked right passed Ashleigh and up into the plane. Wasting no time, the scientist did the same, catching up to the armed woman and matched her stride. "Petty Officer Hackett?" The younger one started, acting a little nervous for no reason she could really think of. "I don't actually have to call you that all the time, do I? I mean... I don't think you call me 'Senior Science Operative de Jong'." <br><br>Though, that would be a cool title.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 20:08:28</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				As Hackett proceeded in, she cursed at herself for forgetting to mention the whole getting stuck in trees thing, which in retrospect was one of the most important things. Of course what people forget is that even at small heights they are carrying upwards of 50 pounds of gear, and their center of mass is so warped that falling becomes tumbling very easily. She waved up to the pilot to get his attention, but he was focused on a clipboard on his lap, or maybe his co-pilot was down there. She'd seen the young woman in the air force jumpsuit earlier, though she didn't really admire her much she noticed she was quite pretty, though that'd be unprofessional. Ashleigh was at Anna's side as she walked, to Anna's slight surprise, the airplane was quite big on the inside even seeing it outside didn't prepare you for it. They carried vehicles in these things. <br><br><em>"Petty Officer Hackett. I don't actually have to call you that all the time, do I? I mean... I don't think you call me 'Senior Science Operative de Jong'." </em><br><br>The scientists question caused Anna to pause in her steps, looking straight at Ashleigh and taking her helmet and mask off, but still covered by her hood. The question was a surprise, Anna couldn't help but blush slightly as she thought it over. The professional thing to say would be no, more formality the better when things got heated, but then again the scientist had never seen combat, infected or otherwise, when bullets started flying people sought the comfort of someone they could trust. Given that Ashleigh was her mission, Anna felt her iron will to not get attached failing. "<strong>Uh...</strong>" Anna stammered as she looked up at the pilot who finally took notice of her, waving her finger in a clockwise circle to the pilots nod, the engines started to gently vibrate and wail as they started up. "<strong>No, I suppose you don't have to be so formal in the field. You can call me whatever you like, Hackett or Anna, its up to you.</strong>" Anna smiled sincerely as the aircraft jolted forward a little with the engines picking up and the wheel blocks being removed, Anna looked back to the ramp and nodded to the crew chief walking by. "<strong>I suppose its okay for me to call you Ashleigh? Or would you rather Senior Science Operative de Jong?</strong>" Anna smirked a little, putting her helmet back on and flipping up the visor.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 22:17:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem watched Hackett as she explained the jump to them. She was clearly experienced and had some skill, she would be a valuable asset for the team, if she could keep this cool in combat situations. Either way, it was most likely the jump would go smoothly, unless they ended up jumping amidst a city or a refugee settlement, if there was any. <br><br>"That's what we are here for, yes." said Utem at Ashleigh's comment. He noticed her take of the glasses and grinned, he liked those eyes. A shadow went over his face and disaapeared as quickly as it appeared. The thought of closing them once lifeless had gone through his mind. He shook his head lightly to threw the idea off, if he had a word in it, all would return safely.<br><br>He heard the engines turning on and looked up, looking around quickly, before rushing up the platform, past the two of them. He only caught part of their conversation, mostly Anna telling Ashleigh her name. He looked inside quickly and sighed relieved, there was a wooden rack with some bags on top of it. There was a net over it with padlocks on each corner which he set to unlock. <br><br>There was a hand written sign on it, that read 'Supplies, Tools and others for Major Eredin. Have fun, greetings from the girls in the research dept'. The Major was underlined and in a green tone with blue polka dots, it clearly was a mock. "Dumbass..." Utem muttered, moving the sign aside and checking what was on the rack without removing the straps that secured the net, lest everything fell during the take off.<br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 03:08:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick's eyes rolled as he drifted off while the jump instructions were given. After Hackett stopped he just threw up a sarcastic thumb up. Thankfully there was no quip or snide comments coming from him.<br><br>Upon entering the plane, Derrick threw himself down into one of the closest seats. Plane rides tended to be hell, he wasn't a fan of sitting around and feeling useless. Especially as he was reminded of that fateful night. If only his daughter had been on the flight with him, none of this would have happened. Granted the world would have still gone to hell, but he wouldn't spend every night plagued by nightmares of her dying alone somewhere out in Europe. Shaking himself out of the funk, he glanced at Ashleigh and said "Hey, Ash can I talk to you for a quick second? No, funny stuff I promise."<br><br>Despite just meeting the young woman, Derrick definitely didn't want to see harm come to her. She wasn't ready for the hell they'd be going through, and he felt a slight tinge of anger. Towards the way the world was, a woman this young? Should be enjoying her life, she should be going to parties and finding herself. Not being sent into the belly of the beast. "The greater good." was all Derrick muttered softly to himself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 07:44:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Anna. Anna Hackett. Sounds like the name of a strong woman, I think. Must have very smart parents." Ashleigh smiled at the older woman, punctuating the fact that she really meant it to be a compliment more than anything else. Just as she was about to tell the officer that it was more than just alright to call her by her first name, Derrick spoiled it by saying her name out loud to get some attention. Finding it amusing that her answer had come from someone else, the young scientist let out a small laugh. "Ashleigh's just fine. See you somewhere on the plane? I mean, it's not like you can get very far from me." With a mock salute, she left Anna where she was to step up in front of the seated Derrick.<br><br>"I'm sure that I could take you on even if you tried to do something, Derrick." Another bluff, though this one far more obvious than her last. "Everything alright? Seem kind of serious..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 16:13:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I have no doubts about that." He remarked with a small smirk. Thinking for a second he said "I'm sure it has been drilled into your head, but I just want you to be very careful on this trip. Granted if any of us are around you, especially me....anyone or anything that tries to do harm to you's gonna die. That's a promise." Leaning his head back a little as he glanced out the window for a moment thoughtfully, Derrick turned his attention back to her and said "So before hell broke out, what did you do? Who were you then?" <br><br>He had a pretty solid opinion on Hackett, she was all business.&nbsp; He would have to work on that. Utem was a pest at best, attempting to be overly charming which Derrick took issue with. However Ashleigh didn't fit into this group, she was a scientist. A very young one at that, and Derrick hadn't had near as much experience with their type as he had with soldiers. He knew they were on guard around him, as they should be. Derrick wasn't brought along to play buddy-buddy, he was here to ensure that upon reaching ground level they reach their destination. Well to be more precise, that SHE make it. All of them except for her were expendable.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 16:57:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem smiled satisifed, everything was there. He went to seat and began checking a list that was on the back of the sign. He had given the list to the one that prepared everything, it was their supplies for the next week and a half. Also a few tools he would carry, mostly the basics for making shelters and improvising a camp.<br><br>He saw Derrick call Ashleigh over and shrugged, if those two ended up lovey dovey in the trip or not wasn't of his interest. Still if it hindeed the mission it would be troublesome. "Let the problems be solved once they arrive, if they do." he said to himself, thinking too much about it was not profitable.<br><br>He took out a book with a red cover, etched with a golden sigil. Opening it where the bookmark was, he began reading, muttering a phrase now and then. Although he was reading, he kept and eye on his surroundings, he wasn't the type to miss something.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 18:58:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That was unexpected. Or was it called for with Ashleigh's insistence that without her, they may as well be fighting those monsters for the sake of it since there would be no point in picking them up. Either way, it was strange to hear those words from Derrick. "Thanks, I guess," the young one replies back weakly, not entirely sure she wanted this. It was nicer to just pretend that he was there for fun and was killing because it brought him some sort of satisfaction rather than actually caring whether or not any and all objectives are completed. <br><br>Taking a seat right beside him, Ashleigh tucked her hair into the hood that was a part of her flight suit (or whatever - you'd think that after having two people explain it that it would stick to an academic), turning to face Derrick when she finished. "I was just as I was then as I am now. When it started, I was more of a student than a true and blue scientist, but the news of an epidemic in Europe changed my focus. I've been studying this thing for as long as it has been around..." Ashleigh paused, looking at the older man straight in the eyes. "You're asking because you think I'm young, don't you?"<br><br>As if to give him a life line, the plane started to eat up the ramp that it had let down, sealing the monster machine up for flight. Without a whole lot of warning, the MC-130's engines flared to life and started down the runway. Ashleigh was used to any sort of aviation being taxi'd for awhile, as it gave her time to settled, but here, her body and mind were anxious. So much so, that she didn't even realized that she was practically gripping at Derrick's arm, her chest pressed heavily into it. As soon as the plane leveled, her mind settled, the young woman jumped back into her seat, her helmet rolling away from her feet as she did.<br><br>"Oh... uh, sorry," Ashleigh blurted out, knowing full well that she wasn't going to hear the end of it. Unbuckling herself from the seat, the scientist grudgingly, ever-so-slowly, crawled over to her helmet lest she forget to wear it at all. "I'd appreciate it if you stopped staring, though." There was no way she could tell if he was, but with her on her hands and knees, her rear encased in a very fitted, back outfit, it was safe to assume that ANYONE would. As soon as she got her helmet and was back into her seat, Ashleigh shot an accusing glare at him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 19:33:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem looked up when the plane took off, he chuckled seeing Ashleigh's reaction and shook his head, thinking she had enough without someone commenting on it so he remained silent. Once the craft was steady and leveled up he got up heading for the rack, just in time to see Ashleigh's helmet roll by. <br><br>He saw her get up and crawl after it, and since she was closer he decided against picking it up. Finally he couldn't hold a laugh at her comment about staring, he muffled it with a hand though. "This will be an interesting trip." he said as he removed the netting from the rack. He had glanced at her, not stared, but it wasn't something he would state outloud.<br><br>"Dixon, Ashleigh, Hackett." He called a he took the bags and tossed one at Derrick, handing one to Ashleigh and Hackett afterwards. "This is your food supply for the next week and a half, strap it to yourself or your bagpack, I think Hackett will now how it would be best for the jump. Sorry for dropping the rest, but it is too long, considering the situation we are to be facing." he said the last looking at Hackett. <br><br>"According to my debriefing, I'm charge of making sure we have three things during this mission." He said over the noise of the engines, holding out three fingers, he would lower them from right to left as he spoke. "One and two, food and water. Inside those bags there are packages with dehydrated nutrient bars or oversized candy bars as I call them. Each package contains too, one for the morning and one for the night. I assure you, they aren't tasty and they wont satisfy your hunger, but they will keep you alive and ready to fight. Over there in the rack, is a bag with water containers." he made a pause to take some air.<br><br>"They will barely last for two or three days, so we will have to gather it somehow, that's were the testing and cleansing equipment over there comes into play. We will also have to hunt and get more food somehow, if it is needed. Three," he continued, "Safe and dry shelter for resting. We have tools for making them, sturdy and lightweight, and a proximity detection system, controlled by satellite. One more thing I will carry most of that weight, about 50% or 60%. The rest will be divided amongst yourself, so try to fit it in your bags. Otherwise, I will have to carry a bit more." There was a bag there where he packed what he had to carry. He would place it to the front of his body, once they jumped, it would be troublesome if he had to use the reserve chute, but he had been trained to be able to manage. <br><br>"Now, I won't boss you around but I would appreciate if you head my recommendations." he asked standing up after finishing, looking around at the others to see if anyone had something to ask. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 21:58:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><strong>Pearl Harbor-Hickam AFB, Hawaii<br>2003H LOCAL - 0703H TARGET<br>Tarmat 02-01-A<br>Winds NW-W 12 mph<br>MC-130 Combat Talon 'Daytona Six-Five', Raptor Seated and Aboard, Go-Code 'Lingo'</strong></div><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://www.americanspecialops.com/images/photos/usaf/mc-130h.jpg)</div>"<em>Toc Zero One, Daytona Six Five you are cleared on flight and advance, runway Zero Two-Zero One-Alpha. Crosswind at marker red, Eight-Zero meters and 200. Go-Code Lingo authorized, cleared for take off, over.</em>"<br><br><br>Hackett heard through the radio as she looked back into the cabin as everyone was seated, and looked back to the pilot as he and the co-pilot finally put 50% power in the engines. The massive 4 engines of the MC-130 roared to life and immediately the aircraft began to move, slowly at first, and then 60% power and they were off, no stopping them now. <br><br>"<em>Toc Zero One this is Daytona Six Five, transit in progress approaching green marker. Lingo confirmed and logged, see you on the flip side Zero One. Out.</em>" The pilot replied, inching the power thrust forward a bit more as the massive MC-130 quickly progressed down the runway, picking up speed. Hackett could see out the windows of the cockpit and the ground was flashing by in an instant. She couldn't help but close her eyes and take several deep breaths, leaning on the co-pilots seat as she reported numbers to the pilot that Hackett didn't know the purpose of, she assumed it was their position on the runway as the pilot gripped the stick with both hands and began to pull. Finally he pushed the throttle forward to the farthest point and the engines wailed and the entire aircraft vibrated with increasing intensity as the MC-130 was lifted off the ground by its own air flow and took to the skies with finesse and quickly leveling off at above 5,000 feet with finality. She wasn't going down anytime soon. "<em>..and thats a take off you can enjoy.</em>" The pilot looked over his shoulder at Hackett as the co-pilot produced a map and turned aswell. <br><br>"<em>We have an 17 hour flight before we're at pre-state for the jump, where are we headed?</em>" the co-pilot chirrped in.<br><br>Hackett frowned under her visor for a moment. She could hear the talking behind her, even over the engines it wasn't hard to miss, but she quickly averted her attention to the map, bringing up a gloved finger with her altimeter sitting with bulk on her wrist. "<strong>This is our DZ right...</strong>" Hackett searched the map of Germany for the spot she wanted to drop, the DZ part had been a tough choice. She knew where they were going and exactly where they were jumping, the only question was when they jumped and when they popped the chutes so they wouldn't land in the middle of a town or heavy forest. Getting stuck 100 feet up in the air with 100 pounds of gear on was death in any prospect, or your leg bones sky rocketing out of your thighs and into orbit, that'd surprise the people in the ISS. Hackett finally found the small patch of dull green on the map and put her finger on it. "<strong>...here, thats our DZ, small plateau at about One Nine Zero our PNRT for 15 hours. Surroudned by trees but clear enough for a drop.</strong>"<br><br>As Hackett began, she heard Utem call her from behind. Over her shoulder she saw him handing out something, rations maybe. She had lots of MREs and could do on 1 meal a day for a long time, her body was conditioned to use food sparingly, she was mostly on 1 meal a day all the time, actually, she got very full from just a good, healthy meal, forget more than that. She ventured back into the main cargo hold and accepted the packages, looking at everyone and then the packs. "<strong>Just throw them in your leg packs or help each other get them into your thigh packs, put them where ever.</strong>" Hackett mentioned, nodding at Utem as he detailed his own duties. She cast a look over at the pack and a frown started to appear on her face. She was already carrying 100 pounds, but it was possible for her to carry about 20 or 30 more pounds, that was kind of her thing anyways. She waited for Utem to finish before nodding. "<strong>Alright, just give me whatever, about 20 but no more than 30 pounds for me.</strong>" Anna retreated to the cockpit again and knelt down as the co-pilot turned around. From her view, Hackett could see only sky, and her altimeter was showing 15,000 feet. Cruising altitude. "<strong>Nice view.</strong>" She mumbled.<br><br>The pilots both nodded, Hackett smirked. "<em>Get some sleep chief, we'll wake you 120 mike before the jump.</em>" The co-pilot smiled over her shoulder.<br><br>Hackett nodded and stood, her oxygen mask dangling around her chest as she walked past everyone and sitting down in the rear of the plane. "<strong>We'll be over Germany in 17 hours, I suggest ya'll get some sleep at some point.</strong>" Hackett hollered over the engines and leaned back into the hard surface siding the aircraft and blinking a few times, staring at the floor of the cargo hold.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 22:17:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As often in such small villages, the drugstore, the Apotheke, shared a building with the post office and had also once sold organic food, if only the very basics. The building's door stood wide open, and a whiff of stale, dusty air she took when she stuck her nose in told her that no infected had been here in a long time, if ever. The place most likely didn't have a basement, and with that much light getting in, this was not the place to be for stinkers. She inspected the door, saw it would even shut, yes, there was a bunch of keys still dangling from the keyhole. She tried it, and it moved willingly enough, so, she locked herself in. She had already made her way around the building once, her usual careful inspection of the possible exits to determine optional escape routes. <br><br>With a pull on the string, she slowly and noiselessly closed the blinds, now, if she kept her head down, her movements couldn't be seen from outside, just in case. She planned to exit over the roof, anyway, so, her not seeing what went on outside didn't matter much. Not that it was very likely stinkers would venture out into the glare of white light that reflected back from every surface, but even if, she'd hear them in time. Her gaze moved over the shelves, there was little among the food that stood a chance to be still edible and had not been attacked by insects or rodents at some point. Raspberry jelly - sealed. She opened a glass, stuck a finger in, hooked it, lifted the jelly to her nose to sniff it, then sucked and licked her finger clean. Really good. <br><br>She spotted a container of honey, too, and soup powder, expiration date 12/2020, then a bar of lavender soap, still smelling so fresh, so clean and good, a can of cocoa flavoured energy powder, 06/2018, still good, though, surely, and for a moment, she struggled, torn between greed, the overwhelming desire to pack everything they could possibly use from out of here, and reason. She forced herself to look for the medicine first. A bottle of elder and blackcurrant juice in one hand, her jelly in the other, she wandered into the room behind the counter, miserably eying endless rows of flat drawers, all filled with pill bottles and packages. She had no idea where to start. Methodically, she worked her way through row after row, from top to bottom, up the ladder to down on her knees. <br><br>Endless names and package inserts later, she had become familiar with a number of diseases and symptoms she had never heard of before, still had found no likely candidates among the pill bottles, nor figured out how the system of sorting them worked. Her juice and jelly were empty and she felt high from all the sugar. Lightheaded and with sticky fingers, she continued her search. Then, her eyes grew wide. <em>Femilibra</em>? Her heart leaped, then raced. She took the first of the packages, turned it: 12/2021. With trembling fingers, she opened it and read. Just as she remembered, no cooling necessary, injection intramuscular, and then, three years of no fertility, guaranteed. <br><br>She counted eight packages. That was a treasure she'd not leave lying around, each package even had the necessary needles inside! Bea would want one, Sylvia, Jenny, Katrin, maybe Dunja, but if only one wasn't needed or wanted in their group, what wouldn't people give for it, at least a month's worth of supplies for the entire group. A sense of elation, enforced by her sugar-high, made her want to shout with joy. No more jokes about her sexual abstinence or subtle, concerned attempts to talk to her about her phobic reactions to the idea of pregnancy. With this protection, why wouldn't she want to have sex with some guy, maybe Ragnar? One injection, and she'd be fixed. She could even do it herself, she knew how. She read the instructions again, carefully, pondered for maybe ten minutes, then peeled herself out of her trousers and stuck the needle smack into her left buttock.<br><br>Her muscles were tense and tight in her excitement, there was an instant hissing, burning sensation so sharp it brought tears to her eyes, but she made sure to inject the fluid very slowly, then waited, rubbed the spot as described - only without a disinfectant, having none. Then, hurriedly, she struggled back into her pants and controlled everything was back in place where she needed it, and began with utmost concentration to pursue what she really had come here to find, the heart medication old Willi needed. She cursed the computer organised system, the endless drawers labeled with nothing but codes she couldn't make sense of, but she knew, just knew, this pharmacy was well sorted and stocked, somewhere in here she would find what she needed. <br><br>And so she did, at seven-thirty in the evening, her head numb with all the tiny script she had deciphered while searching the listed ingredients for the exact chemicals in the exact right amounts and combination. She stuffed all the pills into her Rucksack, added bottles full of diverse painkillers and other useful pills she had discovered, dashed back into the shopping area and plundered the food area for all it was worth, then added a bottle of shampoo. She could still carry the lot, it wasn't too voluminous, too big a risk. Or so she insisted on telling herself. She was hungry, knew it came from the sugar, the fastness with which her insulin had dealt with it, demanding more now, and also knew it had been friggin' idiotic to eat a whole glass of jelly. But what was done was done, now it was time to head back, she'd be forced to spend the night dangling from some tree in her hammock, anyway.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 01:13:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick said "Young? That is a part of it, it is crazy. A woman like you should be enjoying her life....that's the way of the world I suppose." Shrugging some as he heard the plane's engines, he merely leaned his head back into the seat some. Smirking lightly when Ashleigh grabbed onto his arm for dear life, perking up an eyebrow Derrick asked "You alright there, killer?" <br><br>After she let go, he glanced at her for a minute before looking out the window. Derrick thought of his own time over in Europe after the infection really hit. He had a lot of experience with hot spots, and thought realistically as to how they would evolve over time. More infected? That was a given. More people losing their sanity? Assured. The survivor camps would be far more spread out and after such a long period of time? Derrick had to assume that they were all possibly hostile. <br><br>A soft "Sorry." Shook him out of his train of thought, upon looking over he saw a rather attractive backside facing him on the ground. Once she sat back in the seat and glared at him, Derrick merely said "Force of habit I suppose, you work out though. That is good to know." Catching his bag with one arm, he put it under his seat. Food wouldn't be too hard to come by, he wasn't a picky eater and was resourceful enough to forage. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 18:31:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh slowly turned her gaze away from Derrick when she saw a bag fly at him only to have another thrown at her. Utem didn't seem to consider whether or not she was really ready to grab for it, but thankfully she wasn't hit in the face with it. With her helmet in one hand and the bag in the other, the scientist thought it would be best to strap the headgear on to give her a little bit more hand mobility. Noticing the natural light enter the plane, the girl turned on her seat to look out the nearest window.<br><br>The sun never really seems to set at a proper hour when in Hawaii. Ashleigh's spent maybe a day or so there and it never got dark until considerably late hour. Not that she was really complaining about it. The island was far out of sight already and just when she was about to comment on that fact, the plane broke through the clouds. No point in talking about it now - it would be a wee bit too obvious. <br><br>The bag of supplies now hanging from a shoulder and the window hardly a piece of entertainment anymore, Ashleigh turned back toward the inside of the plane, slumping further into her seat all the while. As much as it frightened the hell out of her, she was getting eager about landing and getting to work in Germany. She wasn't sure how agreeable everyone would be to staying in one lab for a little bit, but any time spent in one would no doubt be helpful.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 19:07:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				((Utem handed it to Ashleigh...))<br>"I think it would be around 15 pounds for each of you and I can carry the rest." Utem said with a shrug, looking up as Hackett spoke. "It would be the water bottles and some of the tools." he said motioning for the rack. Either way, if something was leftover he would add it somewhere along what he was carrying. <br><br>He heard her comment about the view and looked outside. The white blanket seemed to cover everything below them, just like a sea made out of clouds. It had always amused him how peaceful it looked up there, so far away from everything, and still with the inminent mission at hand. <br><br>He took a box of mints from a pocket in his chest and popped one in his mouth, before resuming his reading, maybe he could manage to finish it before the time to jump arrived. Maybe not, it wasn't that important either, just leisure reading, although he learned a lot that way. It was a book about spells and ancient rituals, he didn't beleived in half of it, but the underlaying culture was interesting. The sigil on the cover seemed to be a charm for good luck, so maybe it would bring him some, not that he had much faith in luck and desitny as if. Utem believed that everyone forges his own path and future by the choices they make, not some random events that were meant to be.<br><br>"Hackett, what can you tell us about our drop point?" he asked looking at her suddenly the thought had just appeared in his mind.<br><br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 20:04:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett's eyes fluttered open and closed for several minutes, a small pain was creeping up her back from the stiff sitting back. It didn't help her chute was&nbsp; awkwardly keeping her from resting her head back, but that would subside as she settled in and her muscles relaxed. Lugging around 100 pounds of extra weight made her muscles tense and active, now they needed to relax again or it would be a long 18 hours. She flipped her visor down, trying to minimize what little light was already pouring into the cargo hold from the cockpit and windows. She looked down at her altimeter and noticed they were now at 25,000 feet. They'd hit 35,000 in a few minutes when the air pressure inside was high enough to keem them alive, and then drop to 30,000 for the jump. Anna's mind wandered between thinking about the missions and thinking about getting to sleep, of course the trick was to not try and sleep so you'll fall asleep quicker, giving in just makes it worse. In between thoughts, Anna played with the altimeter on her wrist and just generally tried to relax, not easy considering her mission. Ignoring the jump with a civilian and, to her knowledge, 2 others who weren't well trained in the school of jumping was stressful enough before thinking of the actual mission.<br><br><em>"Hackett, what can you tell us about our drop point?"</em> Hackett heard Utem ask out to her. Without moving, Anna wetted her lips and cleared her throat.<br><br>"<strong>Our DZ is South East of a town called Bonn, on a small open plateau patch of land South of Vinxel. SOP calls for us to jump here, and then let Senior Science Operative de Jong decide where we set up for the long haul.</strong>" Hackett yelled over the engines. "<strong>I have sat photos and a map of the area, but I really don't feel like digging them out right now. Suffice it to say our DZ is a good one, far enough from towns to be vacant of infected but close enough to avoid any survivors, if any.</strong>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 20:06:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had squeezed though the tiny mansard window and climbed up to sit on the chimney. All was completely quiet, the evening sun's light golden, shadows lengthening, and not a change anywhere in the village. She lifted her binoculars, checked every spot, especially those where she suspected a nest of infected might be, and found everything just as it had been at her arrival. She'd just leave through the door, then, after all, and lock it behind her. She wasn't surprised, she had sneaked in and out of places before without running into infected, mostly in summer. One could never count on it, of course, never be sure or safe, it could change from one second to the other, if one of them spotted her, had a chance to start roaring before she could bring it down, that would have her running for her life, dangerously outnumbered, in no time.<br><br>That was why she had become this noiseless, calm, pretty coldblooded. Still, a trace of the old reluctance to go down there again, expose herself once more, would always linger. She returned inside, softly closed the window, went downstairs again, took a deep breath, peered through the blinds, nothing, again. Turned the key, pulled it, slipped out, shut the door, made no sound, could hardly breathe as she turned to lock the door, her back to the open streets. She pocketed the key, pulled out her slingshot, a few stones, began to walk, walk excruciatingly slow and careful, her ears straining for any sound, nostrils wide as she sniffed the air, her eyes darting this way, that, then returning to the street before her, avoiding broken shards of glass, bits of rusting metal. Silence. <br><br>Silence? What was that ruffling sound? She froze, turned her head slowly. A plastic bag, caught in a tree, nothing more. That reflection, there, in the shadows, was that a button, a metal button and a zipper, maybe? Was it moving, swaying? Stone and sling ready, she moved on, more slowly still, cursing the wind for coming from the wrong direction, cursing the shadows being so long and deep in that narrow side street, were the building's door stood wide open. Had it been wide open when she came? Yes. This wide? No. But it could have been the wind. More sweat trickled down her spine, itching where the other sweat had dried as a salty crust on her skin earlier. She swallowed, forced herself into another step, another. She mustn't run, not quicken her pace, not yet. Careful, now, careful. Then, she could see it properly, and it could see her.<br><br>A stinker, swaying, face tilted ever so slightly upwards, almost scarlet irises, hit by a pale streak of sunlight, dark streaks of dry blood down his face in ragged lines from the corners of his eyes, nose, mouth. Judging by its skin, it looked fresh. In her mind, she crossed out 'stinker' and made it 'infected'. What it was that made her hesitate, she couldn't tell, not at first. It turned its head towards her, still only staring, swaying. She stood still, stared back, feeling a chill run all over her she hadn't experienced in years. It blinked. Licked its lips. Lifted a hand. Drew it through long, matted, hair, sticky, spiky with blood. Moved its lips. No sound. Moved its lips again. She saw its Adam's apple bump up and down. Her legs began to tremble. "P..." Had it tried to whisper something? Impossible. 'Kill it, kill it!' screamed a panicking voice inside her head, and still she wouldn't. "H... Help?" <br><br>She bolted. Turned and ran, as fast as she could, jumping over obstacles, following the escape route she had settled for when she had come, up the balcony, swing from the branch, cross the yard, over the wall enclosing it, faster, faster. Over the car onto the jeep's roof, at the other side of the street, along the pavement fifty metres, a hundred, and up onto the wall surrounding the cemetery, almost safe now. Behind her, she heard a whimper, carried by the wind. She thought she could hear a word. "Pleeeease!" She turned her head, saw it. It had not rushed to pursue her, was staggering around in the middle of the marketplace now, in the sun. Took another step towards her, arms uplifted, as if pleading. Her stomach heaved, bile rose up her throat. 'Can't be. It's impossible. Never, never. Oh, please, no!' Smooth, round, and warm, the stone lay in her hand. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>06-03-2010, 01:27:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I see...I don't think we risk an airborne attack but it could be dangerous once we land..." he answered, wondering about their drop point. He knew the place from satellite maps, but he wasn't quite sure of it. From one of his front pockets he pulled a small GPS device that was programmed with the food drop they would receive a week from then. He searched for the place Hackett had mentioned and nodded, seeing her assessment was right about the distance from the cities. <br><br>"We should still be ready for an attack once we drop, I don't think the infected would be much interested in an airdrop, but the survivors will come if the see us." he said thoughtfully. "We don't know what kind of equipment they have or if they are around the area." he also added, talking mostly to himself while he placed his elbows on his knees, one hand over the other, before placing his chin on the crook between his thumbs. "Better be ready..." he muttered, sitting in that position, pondering about it for a few minutes, before sliding the GPS back in his pocket. <br><br>Utem got up and moved to the rack, he finished packing everything that was left in one bagpack, boxes of ammunition for the 45's and the rest of the supplies and gear. He looked up as he did so, specifically at Hackett as if he had remembered something. "Thanks for the info." he said with a nod, and continued with what he was doing. Once finished he got up and returned to his seat, placing the bag between his legs. <br><br>He took out a supplement bar of one of his pockets and offered it to Hackett. "I noticed you didn't ate anything back at the base." he said nonchalantly, he had made the mental note to offer it to her once airborne, so it popped in his mind now. "We still have a few hours of flight ahead, so..." he let the thought drift away and waited for her reply.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>06-03-2010, 03:57:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett rolled her eyes in frustration and crossed her arms at her waist as Utem talked about the DZ. She didn't critize his job on this mission, the least he could do is offer the same courtesy. Did he really think she would pick a drop point without thinking it through? Her jump scores were highest in the Navy for a reason; she was fucking good at it. Jumping didn't limit itself to hopping out of an aircraft, pulling a piece of string and not breaking her legs when she hit the ground, part of her job was figuring out where to jump and when to jump. They were wearing black, their chutes were black, and it would be pitch black out, maybe even raining if Anna got her way. Less they have night vision or thermals, some kind of super advanced radar technology that the US Military couldn't even develop that can detect a person falling at 200 miles an hour straight down, it was unlikely they had anything to worry about. The plateau was secluded and surroudned by trees and 3 sides, and partially on another. Of course she'd never actually say that.<br><br>"<strong>No need to worry, it'll be pitch black when we jump and we're wearing black. Even if they knew to look for us, they wouldn't be able to see us.</strong>" Hackett looked over at the group, mainly at Ashleigh. Hopefully the scientist wasn't scared of the dark, like Anna was. Odd world, jumping when its pitch black from 30,000 feet in the air even scared of the dark, or at least a little frightened.<br><br>As Utem offered her a bar, Hackett clued back into reality and stared at the wrapped food for a moment before shaking her head. "<strong>I don't eat before a mission, thanks though.</strong>" She smirked, though her face from the nose up was covered by her visor so it looked more like a sly grin. "<strong>We do, infact have almost 18 hours, so it would be in your best interest to sleep, you need to be alert because I wouldn't expect sleep for at least a few days once we're on the ground, setting up our HQ and getting used to the ground-side conditions. I appreciate the gesture though, thank you.</strong>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>07-03-2010, 00:16:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He noticed his musings about the drop point had gone on the wrong direction. Not bringing out the topic might be better in those conditions than apologizing. "I think you are right, well you are the expert, take us safe to the ground." he said with a smile. His helmet was beside him, so his face was clearly visible. He also wondered about Ashleigh, wondering how she would react to the jump and the conditions they were going to jump.<br><br>"Your welcome." he said sitting back and placing the bar in the pocket it was. He thought about her comment on sleeping, he only shook his head. "I appreciate the thought but I will be fine. I've always found it hard to sleep on a mission. Maybe I'll doze off while reading." he said pulling out the book once more. "Or finish it by the time we jump."<br><br>He resumed his reading while making small notes at the edge of the page, mostly of facts he thought interesting and worth investigating later. The pencil scratched lightly over the old page, the sound it did barely audible even to him over the roar of the engines. While reading, he idly tapped his thigh with the pencil.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>07-03-2010, 06:25:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Fuck.." Matt breathed, panting somewhat heavily. It was hard sprinting at full speed whilst carrying an assault rifle and forty pound pack full of supplies, but there was no way Jacob was going to slow down, not with those fucking infected right on his tail. The fuckers could run - and run quite fast, and it seemed as if they never got tired. At least he was getting closer and closer to the airplane. He then glanced over his shoulder beforee quickly stopping and turning around. Raising the rifle to his shoulder, he aimed down the sights and squeezed the trigger, picking off the closest infected to him before he turned and started sprinting towards the airplane again. Within a few moments, he was at the plane. Jacob climbed up the cockpit as fast as he could, then climbed in through the smashed window then through the cabin door, and bolting it shut behind him. He then slung his M4 around his shoulder, sighing in relief as he did. That had been a close call with the infected, and for all he knew, he'd have many more close calls.<br><br>The M4 had been the standard rifle he'd used all through the MArines and his employment with Blackwater. Jacob had tried the M16a4, but hadn't liked the three round burst it had to offer, so he'd stuck with the trusty M4. The rifle currently had a suppressor attached, a forward hand-grip, and an ACOG (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Combat_Optical_Gunsight) scope attached. Of course, Jacob had brought along all the possible attachments for the weapon, including an infared scope, which was useful during the night, seeing as the infected glowed a lovely white color; a nightvision scope, an M203 grenade launcher attachment which he'd yet to use, though he imagined it would create quite the lovely mess of infected bodies; and of course a red dot sight.<br><br>Jacob made his way down the small staircase to the main level of the large airplane, then tossed the bag of supplies to the ground and set his rifle down, making sure the safety was on. He could hear the infected outside the airplane, undoubtedly waiting for him to return outside so that they could have something to feast on. Jacob had sworn he'd never be one of their meals, or much less, one of them. But unfortunately, he'd have to move out sooner or later, seeing as he estimated he only had a couple more days worth of water. He had enough rations to last several years, but not enough water to go along with them. But now that he was the only one, there was no more sharing in the equation.<br><br>Now he just had to kill some time, so Jacob took a seat, then propped his feet up on the dead body of Diaz which he'd yet to remove, then reached over to snatch up his iPod. He'd been smart enough to bring along some sort of solar charger that someone had given him, so he hadn't had to worry about the battery going dead. The iPod would at least give him some sort of entertainment, whether it be listening to music, or tilting the small toy side to side while playing a racing game.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>07-03-2010, 22:40:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Two days later, Franka was on the march again, this time to inspect the crash site and look for possible survivors. She was also going to pass on her latest news to the sorry replacement of postal service the surviving communities had established with the help of carrier pigeons and brave human messengers. After another night in her hammock, clammy and still feeling stiff and cold despite a thirty minute climb up the Drachenfels, at dawn, she knocked at Bennie's door. He lived in a hut he had built into the ruins of Burg Drachenfels, and was one of the unlikelier candidates who had made it this long. A former computer game addict and severely obese, he had gradually shrunk into the shape of a lean, muscular man, with only loose folds of skin to tell he had not always been in shape.<br><br>Unchanged were his messiness and a tendency to form compulsive habits. He was now as obsessed about carrier pigeons as he had been about WoW. Minutes later, they were sitting in his cluttered cabin over cups of stale, weak tea, and Bennie had been told the story of Franka's excursion - minus mention of her finding contraceptives, an information of no use to him, and none of his business, either. The speaking infected was what mattered, as Benny had already seen and 'reported' the pane. "What did you do, then?" He asked when she had arrived at the point where the infected had stood in the marketplace. Franka shrugged. "Smashed its head in and left, what else? Was lucky enough no other stinkers had come out." Bennie pondered this, noisily slurping the too hot tea. She could tell he had burned his tongue, but didn't comment. He asked. "What now?" She shrugged again. "Let's hope it was a hallucination, right? For if it wasn't..." <br><br>He was nonplussed, so she added. "That's a rather complex task for a brain, produce speech, right, speech that makes sense. Would we want them to be that smart?" Bennie's eyes widened. "But how is that possible? I mean, they're as dumb as it gets, near brain-dead, right, all of them." She looked as helpless as he did. Bennie stared at her for a minute or so, in silence. "How...?" Franka knew what was the missing part of his question. She looked straight at him. "Someone who seemed immune at first? Maybe it changes gradually, then, brain function lost little by little, with a rest of conscience and all still there, right until the end?" <br><br>"Shite! Like - us, you and me? I mean, people who've been bitten and then...? Oh, shit, shit, shit!" Frank didn't let her own feelings out, she had stored them away on her way back to her people, had represented the facts and, stayed clear of all emotions ever since. She couldn't afford any, couldn't take one tiny bit more. If she accepted that the infected she had seen, had heard speak, was what she would become herself sooner or later, how could she ever fight to survive again, what should she fight for, or any of them, they'd all be lost, then, anyway. "Well, yeah, let's hope I hallucinated." He asked. "Couldn't he just have been a shithead who didn't know what to do to show he was okay?" <br><br>"With red eyes?" That didn't stop him a second. "Albino! Could've been an Albino. An Albino freak idiot." She groaned. "Their eyes aren't really red, Bennie, when they've got too little melanin, they can look pinkish, but not that red." Ten seconds silence, then a humpf. He calmed down, sipped tea, thinking hard, then looked up and said, very slowly. "What if he was an albino, and slow to react to the infection?" Now it was her who was stunned. Tried to suppress hope. Post-thinking-process-Bennie usually came up with decent theories. He went on. "Heard of that. Seen it, too, once. Instead of minutes, it takes hours, days. The eyes show it right away, one or both, but it doesn't break out till much later. Maybe that's what happened." <br><br>"Maybe." She mused. She wanted it to be true, the theory was good, really good, whether the guy had been an albino or not, the infection had been recent, very recent. So, it made sense. "right." She said, drained her tea, got up, stretched. "I'll head down to that plane, see whether there's someone left, if I can find out what they're doing here." He got up, too, opened the door for her. "Come back and let me know." She went out. "Good. Take care, Bennie, thanks for the tea and all." He nodded, gave a wave, watched her leave, to make sure, she thought, she'd shut the iron gate properly. The sun was warm now, and by the time she reached the foot of the Drachenfels, she felt uncomfortably hot again. For a change, she smelled of shampoo and soap, though, and she liked it.<br><br>Shortly after midday, she neared the crash site. There were signs of activity here, corpses among the trees, trampled leaves, broken branches, fresh mud. Most of the stinkers and a few freshly infected had been shot. The fresh ones were soldiers. She nudged them over with her feet, searched what was left of them for identifications, anything that could tell her why they were here, and useful stuff they might have on them. All she found out about their sorry remains was that two were from 'Blackwater' and one had been a 'U.S. Marine'. Dogs had been here, too, and wild boars, eating the leftovers. But now, the area was abandoned. Since there was meat left, it made her suspicious. <br><br>What she saw when she reached the edge of the forest was a soldier, sitting on top of the plane, smoking. It looked surreal, like a scene from an old horror film: The hero sits on the plane in the sun under a clear blue sky, all alone but cool as a cucumber, while the armies of decaying undead - cross that, some infected start to creep - cross that, run at him at top speed, moaning - cross that, too, shouting and screaming in pure rage, undiluted bloodlust, sheer hunger. Well, in this version of events, with Franka cautiously stepping out into the sun, there was no screaming and running. Yet. Infected could be under the plane already, or in the nearby bushes, waiting for him to come down. <br><br>Or, if he was anything like the soldiers in most films, he'd start making a hell of a noise, shooting or shouting at her, something idiotic like that. Shite, so, why did she have to promise she'd try to talk to whoever might have survived that crash? Because she had thought she was as good as dead, nope, worse, condemned to mutate into a stinker, gradually, knowingly. No surprise a quick death had been preferable, before she had talked to Bennie. But now that she knew better, why not lie, claim she had found dead bodies and infected? Because... She slowly pulled the cardboard sign out of her rucksack and held it up for him with one arm. Could he read it? Should work, with those giant letters. She waited a little, then turned it. <br><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 13pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>DANGER!&nbsp; -&gt; NO&nbsp; NOISE!<br><br>SLOWLY&nbsp; RAISE...</strong></span><br><br><br><br>*turn*<br><br><br><br><span style="font-size: 13pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>... ONE&nbsp; ARM&nbsp; IF<br><br>I&nbsp; CAN&nbsp; APPROACH</strong></span></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>09-03-2010, 04:15:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Several hours had gone by; the sun had set not too long ago and the dark interior of the open cargo hold had gotten that much darker. Ashleigh wasn't sure if she had passed out where she sat, but now she was wide awake with everyone just as chill as she remembered. Whether it was them relaxing, napping, or doodling she couldn't tell, but there was no point in trying to figure it out lest she disturb them. Perhaps now was a good time to figure out what exactly it was that she had on her person.<br><br>Compared to any of the military folk on this team, Ashleigh lacked quite a bit in the firepower department. Knowing full well that the pistol was not loaded, the scientist unbuckled the weapon from her thigh holster to investigate it a little bit closer. Standard military issue was, strangely enough, not what this was. Judging from the etchings, serial numbers, and the holster itself, it was an HK USP. She recalled her instructor mentioning that it was a .45 caliber. Not that she really knew exactly what that meant, but watching enough movies, she knew it had something to do with how big of a hole you can put in someone. Looking down the sights, she accidentally rubbed a finger against the cylinder just under the barrel. A light illuminated the space just in front of her. It didn't quite startle her, but she was worried that someone was going to give her hell for being so intuitive. <br><br>Adjusting the knob, the light focused into a beam that reached the other side of the plane with ease. Ashleigh guessed if it was left unobstructed, it could have gone several hundred metres. Pointing the weapon at the ceiling to avoid agitating the eyes of those around her, she eventually figured out the high powered light, turning it off with another turn of the knob. Being amused enough by the killing machine, she put it away and moved to another pocket. To her dismay, she found a tablet PC on her other thigh. It was far more sophisticated than that, but the simple fact that it was a single, flat entity irked Ashleigh beyond all belief. Along her waist was a belt. A number of the pouches attached had extra magazines, while others had more science oriented items such as vials for collecting small samples, syringes and needles for the more... sophisticated of collections. Most everything else would be in a crate that would be dropped along with the team. The scientist could really only guess what was in it, and still could really only hope to find a proper lab to work in.<br><br>In the dark, in the silence, Ashleigh felt sort of weird thinking about how she was going to go about her research. The occasional flash of lights made her feel like she was plotting some sort of evil plan and conducting an experiment that would cause a catastrophe. Ironic, as her true intent is to fix this; to figure out if this was accidental or the result of a true mad scientist.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>10-03-2010, 03:52:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob tilted the iPod to the side then grinned. Six months and we was an expert at just about every kind of game you could get for the small device. Whether it be some racing game, or a flying game, to a shoot 'em up. Hell, he even had the old Call of Duty: Nazi Zombies game, which had been introduced several months after it had been introduced to the xbox in 2008.&nbsp; <br><br>After gaming for about an hour to kill time, he glanced at his watch, still not used to the European time zones. He then yawned before he stood up, then walked over to one of the cabinets built into the side of the plane. He grumbled, then picked up a can of whatever was closest, some kind of canned beans. Oh what he wouldn't give for a home cooked meal right now. Jacob took the can of beans, then dug his knife into the top of the can to peel it open. Grabbing a spoon, he made his way back to the bench, then took a seat before dippign the spoon int othe can and taking a bite of the cold beans. It wasn't exactly the greatest thing, but it sure beat eating nothing, or trying to hunt the animals in the region, not knowing if they were infected or not. Jacob could gladly hunt down an elk, or deer, or whatever was around, then roast it on a open flame. But surely the smell of burning meat would attract the infected. And there was no telling if the animals were infected or not.<br><br>After finishing off the can of refried beans, Jacob set the can down on the floor, then propped his feet up on the bench before leaning back, resting his head back on one of the packs he used for a pillow. He reached for his pistol, having developed the habit of sleeping with it, and rested it on his midsection before shutting his eyes. he began to doze off to sleep, his mind racing with images of the infected, the airplane crash six months ago; home, and the fact that he was alone, and no one wad coming for help....<br><br>Several days passed and he went on his usual routine" Wake up, eat, then go out to explore the surrounding area. With each day he had been venturing out a little further, but he always made sure he could see the airplane. He had had a couple of encounters with infected, though it had only been a minimal number. He'd also run into a wild dog and had had to take the thing down before it had attacked him.<br><br>After returning to the airplane, Jacob grabbed a set of binoculars and his rifle before making his way out of the cockpit and onto the top of the airplane. He had removed the captains chair and set it on top so that he could lounge about and scope out the surroundings. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes - the last pack - then stuffed one in his mouth. he lit it, then inhaled. Jacob had never been much of a smoker, and still wasn;'t much of one, but the past six months it had turned into something to do. Something to kill the time and boredom.<br><br>he was just taking another puff on the cigarette when he spotted something out in the distance, moving. He raised an eye brow, then saw it looked to be another human. Could there really be someone else out there? He shook his head, then reached for his set of binoculars, raising them up to his eyes. HE zommed in, and sure enough, he could see someone, waving a sign. he read the words, "Raise one arm if I can approach." Jacob thought about it for a moment, then set his binoculars down, and slowly began to raise his right arm, motioning for the woman to approach the plane...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>10-03-2010, 22:34:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She let her binoculars describe a final circle over the edge of the forest, he darkness under the trees, then over the open fields that stretched before her. It would be quite a run up to that plane if she'd catch the attention of an infected. Sun or no sun, once their rage was triggered by a sight or sound, they'd come chasing her. She decided to drop on all fours, keep low to the ground, hidden by the hay and wheat. She pulled faces at the grass whipping and brushing against her skin, but crawled steadily, blending in with the swaying sea of hay dotted with poppies, cornflowers and buttercups. The thistles and stinging nettles weren't quite that nice to encounter. In easy running distance of the plane, she got up and walked. <br><br>He looked comfortable up there, with his seat and fags and whatnot. She wondered how long it would be till he'd run out of food, and what he'd have done at that point if nobody had come along. She had already made up her mind he couldn't be part of a large military operation, and invasion or something. Probably they never meant to fly over Europe in the first place. With every step, she became more curious, more excited. After six years, she would hear what had become of the world out there, whether it was still only Europe that remained quarantined. But news wasn't even the most important thing, it would be just so damn good to see someone from out there.<br><br>So, quite against her usual habits, she was grinning all over her face by the time she climbed up to him. When she usually had to force a friendly expression onto her face, she now had to wipe a too wide grin off it. Wouldn't do if he thought she was some maniac, or hoping for a savior, or just some fool not worth listening to, right? So, she clambered onto the plane, pulled of her much hated hat and smiled, reddish-brown curls standing in all directions. "Hi!" It was hard not to stare, every bit of clothing or equipment he wore to her looked brand new, none of it had probably seen six years ore more of wear and strain. She rubbed the last seeds, ants and pollen off her face and shook out her hat. "I'm Franka."<br><br>She didn't hold out a hand or come much closer, nobody did that anymore. Instead, she sat down and kept her hands where he could see them, not bothering to take off her Rucksack. Then she began. "I'm immune." As for him, all of it would be new, she went on to explain. "Meaning, I was bitten and I don't catch the infection. Most think immune people don't infect others. The infection is only passed on if you're bitten or scratched by someone infected, or if their blood gets into your eyes, mouth, or an open wound. But some people who aren't immune don't fancy touching someone who is, so, whether you're immune is something people want to know."<br><br>She laughed, then added. "Actually, most people don't fancy ever touching anyone they don't know, anyway." She laughed, watching him. She could tell physically, he was in good shape, healthy, he didn't look dehydrated, sick or starved, had no visible injuries. She spoke this much and lightly in her low voice because it tended to calm people down who had been isolated too long. They could listen, watch, adjust, decide when to start speaking themselves. She grinned at him. "You look alright. You must have done pretty well, here, on your own." <br><br>Another strategy, to first reassure people they've been successful and then imply they'd be no longer forced to stay all alone in a world of stinkers. A simple reason was there why to apply strategies. Lots of people simply broke down or freaked out when they realised their isolation in a nightmare was over. One had to be gently, break the news gradually, make it easy. Sure, the guy was a soldier, could stomach a lot, but he'd have figured out by now he'd be stuck here forever, and he'd have thought he was the only uninfected human around, would die without ever seeing or talking to a living, normal being again. That took its toll on the braves.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>13-03-2010, 01:41:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett reached up and grabbed the young co-pilots arm in a flash, clearly catching her by surprise as she jumped and nearly hit her head on the the low hanging emergency flares stacked above Hackett's head. Immediately Hackett released her iron grip on the co-pilots forearm and sat back against the aircraft. "<strong>Sorry...</strong>" Hackett responded, typically in her line of work people didn't wake someone up by touching, they used radios. Hackett had perfected the 'combat sleep' practice to a fine line. Sleeping on the battlefield was impossible, gunfire and artillery were just the obvious issues, but you also had local insects, stealthy would-be attackers and any one of thousands of possibilities leading to your life ending sooner than expected. So, sleep became a subjective term, closing your eyes and drifting off to unconsciousness was a good way to get killed, so the idea became you closed your eyes and were perfectly aware of everything. The dull, ominous hiss of an incoming mortar shell to the snap of a bullet zipping over your head, and the crack of a branch in an area where you knew friendly forces weren't going to be. Anna knew everything and nothing of what was going on around her, only her training allowed her mind to understand what she was hearing and smelling without being aware of it. She just thought danger and knew she had to wake up.<br><br>Stiffly, Hackett sat up and groaned as her back tensed. She glanced at the co-pilot as she tapped her wrist, and Hackett saw her watch. She cast a glance down at her own watch and caught her altimeter first, it said 30,000 feet. "<strong>We 2 hours out?</strong>" Hackett asked, flipping up her visor and rubbing her eyes then standing up quietly. <br><br>"<em>Yeah, 2 hours from the DZ, clear skies and good visibility.</em>" The co-pilot replied as she retreated to the cockpit.<br><br>Anna couldn't help but stand and bend over, stretching out her stiff and sore back muscles from the long sleep. But none the less, despite the pain in her back and legs, she felt great. 12 hours of good, hard combat sleep did wonders to a tired mind, she felt like she'd slept for days and was ready to go. She didn't know if anyone else was awake or had slept, she really didn't care. Instead, Hackett quickly unzipped and removed several clips closing a frontal pouch down at her waist, and yanked out a black laptop. She sat back down on the seat she'd slept in, and put the laptop on her lap, opening the small computer up and glancing it over. The screen was slightly tinted, it didn't give off much light but it was pretty easy to read. The screen was quite big, almost 19 inches, but it all was compact and low bright lighting. The laptop hissed as it turned on, of course Hackett couldn't hear it over her own heartbeat let alone the plane engines, but she could feel the vibration and knew from past experience this little sucker was cranky when not used in a while. Like a secretary, Hackett went to work and pecked away at the keyboard, her gloves making it a bit awkward but she'd worked under worse conditions. A few images came up, including an update to her orders and a small, overly useless intelligence update about the expected drop weather. Clear and fine, the worst possible jumping conditions. If Hackett had her way, it'd be raining and the storm of the century howling outside, where everything from the mice to the infected would stay the hell inside or topple over and roll. But, if she ever had her way, she wouldn't be dragging civilians around the newest addition to her list of shitholes in the world.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>14-03-2010, 20:30:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The slight scuffle happening a few metres away was enough to rise Ashleigh from her rather shitty slumber. In her years of travel, she had gotten used to the hum and murmurs of planes, but this heavy duty machine seemed to have a way of making the young scientist miserable. With weary eyes, she scanned the cargo hold again to find out how everyone was doing. Nothing really has changed at all. <br><br>Listening in on the conversation between Hackett and those up front, Ashleigh figured out that they were relatively close to the 'DZ'. At this point, it was hard for her to figure out if her heart sank because she was anxious to be back in Europe and see with her own eyes exactly what this virus has done to it, or was it simply a matter of backtracking to the fact that to get there, she STILL had to jump out of a moving aircraft. Not wanting to mope around and let her mind make excuses for how she felt, the young woman unclipped herself from her seat beside Derrick and slowly made her way over to Anna.<br><br>"Alright, Anna," Ashleigh started, placing her hands on the top of her helmet head. "I'm sure I could just do this myself, but you guys are the experts in terms of not getting killed, so I'll ask you." She smiled at the co-pilot and anyone else who was looking in her direction before taking a seat beside the officer. "Naturally, if I'm going to be studying this virus, I'll need a lab. Considering this is Germany we're talking about, that shouldn't be such a peculiar thing to come across. The question, though, is whether there's one that isn't completely crawling with... um, well, zombies." The terminology still hasn't settled well with Ashleigh. They were people, after all. "One that is intact would be brilliant, too."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>14-03-2010, 20:45:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick laid in a state somewhere between sleep and full awareness. He'd been a light sleeper for years now. Mostly Derrick tried to run through different scenarios in his head of the odds of being able to find his daughter. Maybe she was with a group of survivors. It seemed highly possible, if that were the case though? How was she being treated? Was she safe? Happy? Did she repress all memories of him? What of her mother? All of these questions only served to make Derrick more worried and increase the sense of urgency he felt.<br><br>"Stop it...." He merely muttered to himself. Derrick knew if he let his thoughts constantly wander, the only thing that would happen is that he'd die before being able to make sure she was safe and the people he was tasked with keeping an eye on would likely perish as well. Absolute focus was needed, and Derrick found himself wanting to just get the drop out of the way. He was much better on the ground.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>15-03-2010, 05:39:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett watched as Ashleigh approached, the laptop on her legs beeped quietly as it cleaned up several satellite images that Anna couldn't quite make out, and her mind wondered what the young scientist would have on her mind. <em>"Alright, Anna. I'm sure I could just do this myself, but you guys are the experts in terms of not getting killed, so I'll ask you."</em> Hackett nodded her agreement, closing the laptop over and turning slightly to face Ashleigh directly. <em>"Naturally, if I'm going to be studying this virus, I'll need a lab. Considering this is Germany we're talking about, that shouldn't be such a peculiar thing to come across. The question, though, is whether there's one that isn't completely crawling with... um, well, zombies. One that is intact would be brilliant, too."</em><br><br>For a moment Hackett stared with a blank expression at Ashleigh, blinking rapidly as she noted that she had been wrong in assuming Ashleigh would have some sort of portable lab. Of course that was a dumb idea in hindsight, but at the time it sounded like a realistic idea. Just another reason to prove Anna had no business in fancy, technical affairs like this, she was better going in and killing anything that threatened the mission, and being gone and a ghost before anyone even knew something had gone down. "<strong>Right, well, our first order of business when we're on the ground is figuring out whats around us and where the infected are likely to be hold up. Then we'll find you a lab; I doubt it'll be hard, as you said, and maybe it will double as our secure shelter.</strong>" Hackett shouted over the screaming engines, looking over at the other two passengers to see if they were awake. "<strong>If something occupies it already, we'll just have to remedy that, that is why I'm here in the first place, right?</strong>" Hackett added for good measure.<br><br>On a whim, Hackett turned her attention back to Ashleigh and smiled. "<strong>Are you okay with the jump? Any nerves going on?</strong>" Anna was generally concerned about Ashleigh, partly because she was the mission but more so because Anna knew how scary the first jump at night could be, she felt the same tightness in her chest and stomach the first time she jumped in the dark, even on an unfortunately clear night like this it was a harrowing experience, to say the least.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>15-03-2010, 06:13:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem looked up when Hackett startled the copilot. He was reading the last few pages of the book and the pencil's point was visibly worn out. It would last or the next few pages, he would have time to sharpen it later. He heard her question about being two hours out, he glanced at the book again and shrugged, knowing he would finish it soon. <br><br>Looking at Ashleigh as she got up, he wondered about the lab she was asking for. Giving a brief glance to his notes on a notepad in one of his pockets, there had to be a lab in the place they were going to gather the information in Bonn, in the Universitätsklinik Bonn...if that was how it was written. He wa sbaout to say it when Hackett spoke, so he decided to keep it for himself for the time being. Utem returned his gaze to the book, keeping an ear on what was going on around him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>16-03-2010, 22:13:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"My thoughts exactly," Ashleigh said, nodding her agreement to Hackett's assessment of how useful a functioning lab would be to everyone. She wasn't too concerned about the other details regarding the mission, zoning out when her purpose of a scientist was already outlined. There was little chance that the US government would be so inclined as to exterminate the threat with a party of four, but with the others not letting up the on the idea that this was in fact a suicide mission, perhaps the US really are as radical as everyone thinks.<br><br>"I can run some tests while we're on the look out for something of a home base, but I would rather not have to study while out in the open, you know? Without a controlled environment, I'm just exposing this virus to variables that I can't control." As if to say that her words were beyond the woman essentially bathed in the army, Ashleigh brought back her tone into her usual peppy one. "Basically, the faster we find a lab, the faster we'll be able to get out. I can collect samples while we're at it, but nothing can be done until I find a lab."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>18-03-2010, 04:10:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob took another look through his scope as he watched the woman start to approach the plane. He saw her kneel down, almost out of site, probably to keep herself hidden in case there were any infected around.&nbsp; After watching her moving through the brush for a moment, he took another look around the area, spotting movement off to the east. He was about to squeeze the trigger, but then saw it was just a harmless animal. Or was it? He still wasn't sure if the animals could become infectious with whatever was turning the people into blood thirsty monsters. After scanning the valley for another moment, Jacob set his rifle down, then took a seat in his chair, still able to see everything around him.&nbsp; After a couple minutes, he could see the woman reappear on her feet again and start to walk towards the plane, and it wasn't long before she climbed up and joined him.<br><br>Jacob took a moment to look her over, seeing she looked to be in good shape. Hell, if you weren't in good shape, it would be near impossible to survive out in the wilderness with all the infected around. Jacob smiled to the woman and nodded, hearing the distinct German accent in her voice. "Jacob, or Jake for short," He replied, crossing his right leg over his left as he watched Franka take a seat. From the looks of her attire, it looked like she had been out and about for a good amount of time. Jacob listened to her as she explained how she was immune. There was no telling if he was or not, and quite frankly, Jacob didn't want to get close enough to one of the infected to find out if he were immune or not. That was something he would pass up on. He'd seen what had happened when a victim had been bit, and he'd rather die than turn into one of those things.<br><br>He smiled again and nodded, "It's been alright. been here about six months now. My team was sent over here to help secure off the borders," He replied with a shrug, "Something with one of the engines malfunctioned and we ended up crash landing out here. Now, I'm the only one..." he said with another shrug, as if it were no big deal. He'd only been a loner for a few days now. "How about you? And what exactly is causing the infections? Is it some kind of virus, or?" He asked, figuring she probably knew a hell of a lot more than he did, seeing from the looks of things, she'd been stranded here for some time now. Jacob could remember when this whole thing had started some six years ago. He hadn't really paid much attention to it until he had volunteered to go on the mission to Europe. And now he was regretting having chosen volunteering, seeing as where it landed him. he had come to conclusions it must be some sort of virus. Everything going on had seemed like the things he had seen in video games and movies. Never would he have thought he'd be fighting off 'infected' in real life.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>18-03-2010, 06:32:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett tried to remain straight faced as Ashleigh spoke, her words were registering but a bit over her head. She knew what the woman was talking about, Anna wasn't that dense, but the whole intent of her words were lost on Anna's mind and she found herself fighting back a frown. Once Ashleigh changed her tone, however, Hackett couldn't help but nod and smile slightly in agreement, nodding in her agreement to the task at hand. That fact had bothered Hackett through the briefing and she even thought about it on the plane. She knew, in the back of her mind, that it was necessary for them to locate a secure and operable shelter. In her thoughts, Anna checked her red digital numbered watch sitting on the bottom of her left wrist, it was almost that time. <br><br>Hopefully not interrupting, Anna put her hand up and leaned out some. "<strong>Everyone oxygen up, put your oxygen masks on securely and do not take them off until we're on the ground.</strong>" Anna looked to Ashleigh and looked at the oxygen mask hanging from her helmet. "<strong>Make sure you don't take it off until we're on the ground, you need to get rid of that nitrogen in your blood.</strong>" Anna nodded, securing her own mask to the side of her helmet and securing the locks on both sides, immediately she could feel the effects of being on pure oxygen, a little bit of numbness crept into her fingers and toes, slowly spreading up to the middle of her foot but quickly subsiding.<br><br>Turning her attention to Ashleigh, Hackett pointed to her laptop. "<strong>I'll request an updated map of local labs on two or higher story buildings in and around Bonn, I can't just look it up because I don't have an intention connection, only a connection with the mission update server or the satellite. We'll probably have it by the time we reach the ground.</strong>" Anna would smile her her entire face, short of her eyes, were concealed. She looked up to the cockpit and could see the co-pilot checking her map and nodding. Hackett had seen that enough to know she was confirming they were 1 hour and on course for the drop.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>18-03-2010, 22:05:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick had fully came to a little earlier, seated silently and lost in his own thoughts. Upon hearing Hackett's announcement, he got to his feet and made his way towards the woman. Putting the mask back on, Derrick plainly remarked <strong>"Say I want to get a nice fresh breath of air? Nothing like it from a free fall."</strong> His bag full of his supplies and weapon was hanging onto his back and despite the weight of the gear and equipment he showed no signs of discomfort. <br><br><strong>"Oh..and I forgot to mention this earlier. Upon reaching ground level, and this is just a suggestion mind you. I'd say it might not be a bad idea to scope out the area and attempt to find a safe house that could be utilized for the time being. It is better than camping out where we can be hit from 360 degrees."</strong> Glancing at Ashleigh for a moment, Derrick wondered to himself why he felt so protective of the young woman. Shaking it off, he crossed his arms and stood there quietly. Eager to finally get off this damn aircraft.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>20-03-2010, 01:38:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Since he seemed to be so entirely calm and unconcerned about his situation, Franka pulled off the rucksack and her jacket and got rid of her leather protections. She stretched out on her back in her burgundy top and long leather trousers. It was safe up here, this Jake wouldn't freak and suddenly push her down the plane, she felt, unnecessary to wear the thick protections under which her skin was hot and itching in this weather. Having spent so much time with veterans of the plague, she had forgotten about her scars. She was never self-conscious about them, few survivors did not sport at least some, and most who had lived like her looked a lot worse for wear. <br><br>Franka was blessed with a body that healed fast and well, her scars faded and shrank over time, most were faint, thin and white, few still stood out in red or purple, none were very ugly or disfiguring, she had been lucky enough to never miss whole pieces of flesh. But the sight of bite marks on her neck, shoulders, upper arms and the recognisable traces of fingers having left tears was nonetheless disturbing. The rage, strength and viciousness of the attackers they implied, the tearing, biting, clawing at her flesh that must have caused them, so entirely human and inhuman at the same time, the narrowness of the one or other escape they betrayed, none of this made them a sight pleasant to look at. <br><br>Perhaps this was even more the case because this was a very young, fit, nicely shaped, soft skinned woman's body. The most perverse looking scars probably were a few fierce bites at her throat and neck and the deep parallel tears running over her belly and waist that had actually been caused on different occasions, but seen together, looked like the result of sickeningly rough, violent sex gone entirely overboard. Unaware of it, she lazily scratched her belly and began to tell Jake what little was known of the virus, explained what was safe to eat, drink, and hunt, told him about the animals he'd better not run into and how best to react when he did, and everything they knew about the infected. <br><br>It took long, but they had nothing better to do, lessons on survival could never come early enough, nor would a few months on this plane have prepared him for what awaited him once he was forced to leave his safe haven. She now and then scanned their surroundings with her binoculars, turned onto her belly or her side, casually, natural, uncaring of what he might think of her lazing around like this. She cared not for manners, all she wanted was to enjoy being allowed to stretch out for hours on end with nothing to do, and getting that cold, wet night out of her bones she had spent up in her hammock in the treetops. <br><br>Towards afternoon, she asked whether she could stay the night, said she wouldn't need any of his food, but if he'd rather stay alone it was time for her to go. She knew now he had no information on the virus, that the world outside was what it had been here, too, before the plague hit, that Europe's borders were guarded - no doubt to keep the infected and people like herself from getting out. That was about as much useful information she could probably expect ever to get out of him. So, she didn't care overly whether he'd stay here alone, that was his choice. If he wouldn't mind her staying, she'd sleep a night inside the plane where it was safe, and either trod off alone the other day or take him along. She said as much. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>22-03-2010, 05:13:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Neat," was all that Ashleigh could think to say. The time to hurl oneself out of a plane for the sake of science was not something that she anticipated doing in her lifetime. Hell, who even WANTS to say that they would risk his or her life for science? It's far, far too cheesy to be healthy. As if to sat that she still hadn't come to terms with jumping out of a plane, the scientist clutched her hands on the straps that held her into the seat. <br><br>This is when a revelation came upon her. Did they get her onto this mission simply because she was young? Would a sixty year-old really have enjoyed his time free falling whilst having a heart attack? No, probably not. Now Ashleigh was stuck with the idea that her youthfulness was simply a matter of health than her work. That complicated things heavily in her mind, as she could not get rid of the idea that she truly did have that much more to prove now. Damn those Americans, always so clever in their ways despite the reputation.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>22-03-2010, 16:00:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem strecthed lazily after finishing his book, just in time to hear Hackett¡s instructions. He got the book into a plastic bag and closed it tightly, so it would be protected from water and dirt, he placed it inside the bag with the tools and supplies. <br><br>"Sure Dixon, take it off, if you don't die from throat or lung frostibte, then fainting from hypoxia and hitting the ground after freefall will do the trick." he said with a grin while he finished packing everything, making sure none of the tools was left behind. He added a box that rattled when he moved it. <br><br>Standing up and taking the bag with him, he strapped it securely to his chest, making sure the emergency parachute release was reacheable. He walked back to his seat and nodded. "If we can get something with two floors and only one access to the second one, it would be better." he added to Dixon's suggestion.<br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>22-03-2010, 16:21:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><strong>Bonn, Germany<br>2450H LOCAL - 2450H TARGET<br>Drop Zone 'Dixie Six'<br>Winds W-SW 9 mph<br>MC-130 Combat Talon 'Daytona Six-Five'</strong></div><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r60/KristieAndreaParker/Riggerschute.jpg)</div>"<strong>Now now gents, lets not speak the obvious truths. Derrick, if you want to die a slow and no doubt horrible death and plummet to the earth so fast parts of you will end up in Moscow, be my guest. Just make sure you don't crash into us on the way down.</strong>" Anna smirked. "<strong>No joke though, you would die almost instantly. We'll be falling at about 130 miles an hour, I hopefully will hit about 200, at this height you'll simply suffocate on thin air, probably pass out and yes, definitely get some severe frost bite on your face.</strong>" She looked to Ashleigh and nodded. "<strong>I agree we'll find a spot, but I don't want to waste time looking for a hide out we'll have to ditch almost immediately. This is rural Germany, no safe houses here. We find a secure lab and work it to our needs as soon as possible. If we can we'll avoid sleeping outside, but I'd rather not potentially initiate contact with any infected unless we're detected or its mission critical.</strong>" Anna cast a glance at Ashleigh. "<strong>Mission critical means you.</strong>"<br><br>Suddenly the cabin echoed with the pilots voice. "<em>Need you all to buckle up, we're going to make our turn in less than 10 mike.</em>"<br><br><br><div align="center"><strong>0100 H LOCAL/TARGET</strong></div><br>Hackett squinted and blinked repeatedly as she focused hard on the pitch black wall of darkness surrounding her. The cabin for its own right was so dimly lit, the only thing you could see were the outlines of the 4 bodies occupying it and the odd shapes of crates and boxes that lined the walls. The dull humming of the engines was almost mind numbing, it was so quiet otherwise. The cockpit was silent and void of life, neither pilots seemed to move more than an inch every few minutes and the passengers themselves were likely in a trance of mental numbness. The darkness combined with the oxygen and engine noise all created a perfect situation for sleeping, though no doubt none of them were actually sleeping.<br><br>Anna for her part was actually well aware, if blind to everything that went on. The moon could find no opening to get through to light the dark cabin, and though the cockpit was well lit from small arrays, the moon remained hidden behind clouds or the other side of the aircraft. Anna couldn't help but stir every few seconds, just to keep herself occupied in the most boring parts of the mission. They were close enough to the jump to be lights out and nervous, but far enough away for the adrenaline to kick in, everything was so much more clear when the adrenaline was running the snow. Then her muscles were on autopilot and run by muscle memory, her mind could drift and admire the serene beauty of an unremarkable warzone as far as warzones go. Though hard to believe, the last few centuries of human history had seen the most brutal and costly fighting in history, the most recent one being the worst by far. Some would say fewer died this time around, but that was virtually untrue, the dead just didn't stay dead this time.<br><br>As time pressed on, Anna started to feel something. It was a pull at her feet and legs. Suddenly the entire aircraft banked and turned hard to the left, if anyone were not secured down they could have gone tumbling. Instinctively Anna reached out and grabbed Ashleigh's shoulder tightly as the pressure on her own shoulders from the uncomfortable straps holding her body weight doubled in place. As soon as it had begun, the plane leveled and Anna stood up, unbuckling the straps holding her in place. As if on cue when she stood, a small red light appeared from the darkness behind her and the co-pilot walked brisky past the group, approaching the red light and stopping at a small switchboard with what looked like a remote control attached underneath. She manipulated a few buttons and knobs, then pressed a flat, red-glow basked button at the top and the planed rumbled more violently than before as the ramp opened.<br><br>Immediately Anna was hit by a massive push of air rushing in, nearly knocking her back but she'd expected it. The aircraft shook more and more rapidly as air pressure was lost and quickly replaced by a lower pressure. Anna approached the lowering ramp and gazed down. Her visor was a high tech piece, with a build in night enhancement film covering the inside. It was basically a built in night vision device, and everything had a strongly tinted green quality about it. It was crystal clear compared to the night vision she packed in her ruck, but was far to heavy to be suitable for combat. Anna turned around and walked back into the cabin proper, tapping everyone on the leg to let them know it was finally time. She flipped on a small button on top of her helmet, and if anyone behind her had their night vision on, they would see a bright light flash every few seconds on top of Anna's head. The strobe IR designator was designed to allow them to see her from a long distance, really as far away as human eye could detect the light. Otherwise, without night vision, they would simply see nothing.<br><br>"<strong>Comm's check.</strong>" Anna spoke, approaching the ramp again. "<strong>We're 5 minutes from our jump point. Order of jumpers goes; myself, Ashleigh, Utem and Derrick. Too late to turn back now, welcome to Germany.</strong>" "<em>..you will be earning 50 reward air miles for this trip...</em>" the co-pilot chimed in from the switchboard, bending over and peeking dangerously far outside to inspect the ramp.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>22-03-2010, 21:09:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck!" Ashleigh adopted this new mantra as soon as the ruckus had started. There were no more instructions, no more half-ass lectures about how one jumps out of a plane properly in the middle of the night. The moment she was dreading eighteen hours ago was finally here and everyone really was loving it. When the crew said that they were even an hour away, the young woman made sure that everyone was in its place probably fifty times over. Was her mask secure? Were her pockets seal properly? Is her helmet going to catch a lot of air and break her neck? Fuck.<br><br>Rather unexpectedly, since it was probably by accident to begin with, Anna laid a reassuring hand on Ashleigh's shoulder. It was a curious gesture, however, as the Petty Officer made nothing of it as soon as the plane had leveled. All this talk about the scientist being the mission was really starting to carry some undertones, apparently. <br><br>By her own request, Ashleigh's load out for this jump wasn't nearly as impressive as the others. She really didn't need to have the fancy nigh vision or displays. If it came down to defending herself against a horde of walking undead, the other three were probably already eating the dirt so there would be no point in trying to shoot each and every one of them in between the eyes. Flight is a far better option than fight, after all. <br><br>Trying to be more of an asset than a hindrance at this point, Ashleigh unbuckled herself from her seat to join the others by the ramp. The wind buffeted against everything in the cargo hold; their clothing flapping this way and that. "I'll follow you into the dark," she said to Anna, who only announced the order of who was jumping. Not that military folk didn't have a social life, but Ash could only dream that someone would get the reference... or at least try.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>27-03-2010, 18:03:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><strong>Bonn, Germany<br>0100LOCAL - ON TARGET<br>Drop Zone 'Dixie Six'<br>Winds W-SW 7 mph<br>MC-130 Combat Talon 'Daytona Six-Five'</strong></div><br><br>Anna took several deep breaths as the plane lurched, seemingly at random, to the left and to the right. The night sky extending on for miles provided a little comfort in its beauty, though in the back of her mind Anna was comparing it to the covers on a horrible nightmare, the good dream compared to the bad one. Either way, she was jumping down into the bad dream, hopefully in one piece and she would return the same way. She wanted to glance over her shoulder at the people behind her, but found herself unable to. Her nerves peaked suddenly, and it felt like there was no reason, but a bad feeling crept into the pit of her stomach and almost felt like it hurt. Just a little.<br><br>Her mind was swimming as the co-pilot attended to the switch board, watching them intently but her expression was distant. Anna watched the solid red light, staring was more accurate, as if she could will it to change colors so she could get off this flying coffin. Always the moments before the jump were the hardest, at least for Anna, because it was like venturing into the unknown time after times beyond counting. She tensed up as the co-pilot gave the thumbs up back towards the cockpit and prepared to do the 'waddle' walk to a sharp drop off for a 30,000 foot 'brisk' tumble and a nice landing. <br><br>The red light blinked off for a second, and Anna gave the thumbs up to everyone behind her, not turning to see if they were aware but hopefully they were watching the lights. A second light, just below the red one, turned on into a brilliant green and Anna took a deep breath, walking forward awkwardly and picking up her pace into a fast walk before walking off the deep end, so to speak, rolling forward and plummeting down. She squinted as the air rushed around her helmet, her clothing flapping furiously as she picked up speed. Her entire body shook violently but she was well prepared for it. With her arms out and her legs spread apart slightly, she sailed almost gracefully towards the earth. At give or take 150 miles per hour. A light stroll in the park.<br><br>With the moon on her flank, Anna could very clearly see the earth. She couldn't make anything out other than a lot of dark browns and greens, several pitch black spots around trees and in near by cities, but her view spanned miles and miles in every direction. She kept her eyes glued to the ground, though, her every movement of her arms intent on dropping her right down onto her intended landing zone. She couldn't see it but knew where it was in reference to the town, which she could clearly see though not make out any one structure. The fall, for her, turned into a waiting game. She enjoyed it but her heart thumped loudly in her chest still, Anna had to admit she loved it but sometimes jumping gave her worries of a heart attack before she was 50. It was nerve racking, even for her. She quickly brought in her left hand, her body wobbling violently as the air flow was interrupted. Her altimeter was spinning wildly, from 19,000 down to 18 in less than a few seconds. She was falling quickly, and she knew it. Of course that was obvious. In the 3 seconds she was looking at her altimeter, the Earth had seemed to reshape itself. <br><br>Thanks to the moonlight and her night vision, Anna could clearly see the LZ, just slightly illuminated outside of Bonn. The town began to take shape, buildings and billboards and even the tiny specks that were cars, ruined most likely, began to form themselves despite the darkness. Anna flipped on her night vision, again shaking violently, and the earth lit up in an eerie green sheet. The LZ was now perfectly visible, but something else caught her eye. A crashed aircraft, from the body it looked like a C-130 or a C-17, and though she couldn't see the actual markings, she knew that type of aircraft was military. Though, to her knowledge, there had been no previous fly overs since the actual evaucations. Even with the implications, Anna forced those thoughts from her mind as she approached 5000 feet. She reached down around her left shoulder and grabbed the pull cord, bringing her legs a bit closer together to slow herself, and yanked the cord.<br><br>For a second she sped up, the tightly packed chute and its weight lifted. Violently she stopped and was yanked upwards, her stomach falling to her feet and her head throbbing, her vision fuzzed for a second but returned to normal, and she drifted casually down. Glancing down, Anna saw that she was falling right into the middle of the circle opening surrounded by trees, and grinned slightly under her mask. Even with her clothing on she was cold, but the adrenaline was hiding that fact from her. A few minutes later, Anna was within a few hundred feet of the ground, and began to steer herself left and right for a short time, slowing down a bit more and then turning hard right, circling around so she could land away from the town. She circled some more and suddenly hit the ground. She bounced once but landed again and immediately planted her feet, skidding abruptly as her chute refused to collapse. She pressed a small button around her waist and her entire chute pack dropped off her back, she turned around and grabbed the cords, pulling the chute down by them until it finally gave in and fluttered to the ground. <br><br>Anna set to work getting her Hk416 out of her pack, grabbing the suppressed assault rifle and leveling it up to her shoulder, sweeping the treeline with her night vision with the holographic red circle dancing from fuzzy green tree to the next, trying to pick out threats. She slung the rifle over her neck and shoulders, letting it hang ready on her chest and set to work recovering her parachute,&nbsp; stuffing it haphazardly into the bag and closing it up, reattaching it to her entire pack sitting on the ground and glancing up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>28-03-2010, 20:52:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob sat in his chair and listened intently to the woman across from him explain everything she knew about the virus, and about the animals, and what was safe to eat and drink, and what wasn't. Though Josh doubted he would hunt down an animal, kill it, then cook it up and eat it. He would probably only do that if he were desperate and had gone without food for a couple of days. But then again, he had enough food to last him at least another six months. Ahh the beauty of dehydrated food. The same stuff they used for space trips.&nbsp; His only problem was the fact that he didn't have enough water to last him more than a few more days. But Franka probably knew where there was a safe supply of water. if she didn't, then she wouldn't have survived for the past six years.<br><br>Jacob was about to respond, when he thought he heard the bushes rustling down near the plane. He held his hand up to Franka to be quiet as he listened. He could definitely hear something now. And he hoped that it was just some animal and not a group of infected. He then stood up and carefully walked to the edge of the airplane and peered over, then sighed somewhat in relief when he was it was just an animal, and not the infected. Just as he was turning around however, he heard more rustling, and then the distinct noise of the infected. "Fuck..." He mumbled. Thankfully there were only two of the damned things, which would be an easy kill from where he was standing.<br><br>"Infected.." He murmured as he turned back to Franka, then walked back to his chair to pick his rifle back up. He undid the safety, then walked back to the edge of the plane, then peered over the edge again as he raised the rifle to his shoulder and looked down the sights. he then targeted the first infected, cursing softly to himself as it kept moving about. WHen he had a good shot, JAcob squeezed the trigger, the bullet burrowing its way through the infected's skull and leaving a nice, bloody mess on the ground next to the body. Now he had the attention of the other infected. It looked at him trhough its bloodshot red eyes, then charged the airplane, clawing and hitting against the side as if it thought it would be able to climb up. The infected were strong, fast, but not exactly incredibly smart.<br><br>Jacob aimed down the sights again, then squeezed the trigger, hitting the other infected in the head as well. That seemed to be the easiest way to kill the infected, and be able to conserve ammunition.&nbsp; Once done with that, Jacob slung the rifle over hsi shoulder then walked back to his chair, picking up the still it, half there cigarette. He took one last drag on it before dropping it to the plane and crunching it under his boot. "We should probably go inside," he said with a nod to Franka.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>29-03-2010, 18:55:03</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Under any normal circumstances, Ashleigh would be jumping up and down, flailing her limbs this way and that in an effort to shake off the stress. For some reason, though, her intuition told her that doing so on a plane that was quite some distance away from the earth was an incredibly bad idea. In those five minutes, she did well to stand exactly in the same spot; distracting her mind with checking and re-checking her gear to ensure that there was nothing exposed. When the red light caught her eye, she could do little else but stare at the back of Anna. <br><br>Ashleigh desperately didn't want it to disappear into the dark.<br><br>Inevitably, that figure did vanish, hurling itself out of the plane with as much grace and confidence that one would expect&nbsp; of someone who has done this a few times in her life. The far from extreme scientist looked on for a split second, stunned, before a little voice in the back of her head told her that everyone was waiting. Who was everyone? Those behind her? Those eager to follow her discoveries? Those who have fallen victim to this tragic virus who can only hope to be cured? Ashleigh sure as hell didn't know, but there was no time to try and figure that out. <br><br>A running start turned into a lazy stumble, the youngest of the group grudgingly threw herself out of the back of the plane. There were a number of sensations that she felt in that instant she was exposed to the elements. It was windy, it was cold, it was far from enjoyable. Her mind kept telling her that she could felt particularly cold between the legs. Ashleigh could only hope that it actually wasn't her wetting herself.<br><br>Actually deciding to open her eyes, she was met with a blanket of darkness. The only break in it was the flashing light on Hackett's shoulder. It seemed to be getting further and further away... but not in terms of distance. As Ashleigh fell to what she thought was straight, the officer slowly but surely was veering off to the left. Judging from simple experience alone, the scientist was definitely not on the right track. Her mind couldn't even sort out what was going wrong as the parachute deployed itself automatically, as it should.<br><br>When Ashleigh managed to re-orient herself, she looked out at where she thought she remembered seeing Hackett, and then up to where the others should have been. The parachute blocked off quite a bit of her field of vision, but as far as she could tell, there weren't any lights, any indicators, of her teammates around. Any number of swears flew out of Ashleigh's mouth, and only when she remembered that there was a comm device in her gear did she calm down. She couldn't even hear herself speak, so that would have to wait until she found some sort of ground.<br><br>With what little time there was to reach the ground, Ashleigh did what she thought was best in turning in the direction that she thought the 'LZ' was. Her vision could barely make out trees and such, and that was quite clear when she and her parachute got caught up in them. Dangerous, yes, but thankfully there wasn't an injury to speak of. This little development did essentially overrule any sort of instruction she did get from both Anna and her morning instructor, but perhaps that was for the best. Releasing herself from her chute, Ashleigh far from gracefully plummeted the remaining ten feet or so to the ground.<br><br>The dark kept the young woman from truly exploring the little bit of forest that she found herself in. She doubted that there were going to be any real threats in the area, but drew the pistol from her thigh holster regardless. "Lovely," Ashleigh said to herself, cursing her luck more than ever. Luckily she was still able to remember that they were all linked up on a comm system. "Oh... I'm sure you can all use your fancy night vision and whatnot to see me but I can't see you. Mind giving me a clue as to where to go?"<br><br>Though she clearly was, Ashleigh really didn't want to be thought of as a liability to their survival. Playing off that she was independent and capable seemed to be the best way to do that.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>29-03-2010, 20:33:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In between hearing updates from the pilot on the drop condition and Ashleigh's cursing over comms, which made Hackett smile in response, the Petty Officer dallied her time retrieving the weapons she had from her back. Her SPR was not assembled, and she'd need more lighting to do that. She could strip and assemble an M4 in the dark in 30 seconds, but the SPR was a much more complicated killing machine that required a soft touch and a hard stare to work. Several hundred small parts, some as fragile as cracked glass. She wasted the time awaiting the arrival of the team by packing up everything into a carryable package. The weight was still there, but Hackett could manage. Her eyes continuously looked towards the sky as she pulled off her jumpsuit and helmet, stashing them in her pack and replacing them with her assault helmet, webbings and vest, her with her BDU's underneath she was, hopefully, a ghost.<br><br>Ashleigh's voice breaking over comm's made Hackett sigh, throwing her pack onto her back and grunting in tired agony. Her legs were kind of sore from the jump, she hadn't expected to hit the logs she did, but she was still alive and no broken bones, if a sore knee. As she packed up, Anna dropped a small, baseball sized sphere on the ground and turned it on. The IR strobe lit up brilliantly, a constant beacon of white light invisible to the naked eyes of the infected but plenty visible to the ones with night vision. "<strong>Jumper Three and Four, DZ is marked with an IR beacon. Jumper Two, await further instructions. All Jumpers await rally at DZ.</strong>" Anna spoke through her helmet's headset, clipping on her night vision goggles, Anna shouldered her HK416 and made a lurching dash towards the trees, the IR strobe on Ashleigh's chute pack was stunningly obvious. Or at least, she thought it was Ashleigh's.<br><br>As she reached the treeline, Anna dropped down to her knee and pulled out a high powered, LED flashlight and pointed it towards the IR strobe, flicking it on and off repeatedly. "<strong>Jumper Two this is Jump Lead, follow my flashlight, can you see it?</strong>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>30-03-2010, 01:29:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick jumped out shortly after Ashleigh did, they were fools if they believed for a second he was taking orders from anyone or following any sort of protocol. What was at one point in his life exhilarating was now just a fairly mundane way to kill one's self. If for whatever reason the parachute failed or he deployed too late, he'd wind up as road kill. Or impaled on a tree somewhere. Maybe even a dropped meal sort of like what the United States did for Berlin. Impending death however wasn't on Derrick's mind, that mattered little. Instead, he found himself weighing out in his head which woman he was more attracted to. Ashleigh or Hackett. <br><br>Both were extremely attractive women, and they had done an excellent job on keeping themselves looking presentable given the state of the world. On one hand Ashleigh was utterly adorable, more easy to be around and far more endearing. However Hackett had that badass thing going for her, and had an excellent shape. Derrick even wondered to himself if he would be able to hook up with both of them. <br><br>Derrick came spiraling down towards the earth, without a worry in the world. His reaction time and perception were second to none, despite his inappropriate train of thought he was more than aware of his progress downwards. Facing the ground as the Landing Zone started to come into view. Once he got close enough, Derrick pulled the chord and was pulled back hard as the parachute deployed. Grabbing hold, he shifted his weight so he could hopefully land at a spot of his choosing. <br><br>Upon landing, Derrick quickly hit the button and flung the pack off of his back. Listening intently for a moment, he heard no movements. The infected weren't really known for being stealthy hunters, so Derrick quickly started to undress from the HALO gear. Tossing it down upon finishing, he'd brought himself a change of more functional ground wear. All the while his ears were trained for any sudden movements. When Derrick finished getting dressed, he now had on a pair of of black combat boots, black cargos, a wifebeater underneath a black ballistic vest of a high quality. Over this a black jacket was worn. <strong>"Much better."</strong> Derrick muttered to himself as he lifted up his bag and produced his FN F2000 Assault rifle. Quickly assembling it before he finished adding on the proper attachments. This rifle was a monster with all the work he had put into it. A grenade launcher, an optional shotgun attachment, tactical flashlight, laser sighter. The ammunition that Derrick liked to utilize was a composite High Explosive Incendiary/Armor Piercing variant. He also had backup ammunition in his bag including a box of hollow points, and regular metal jackets. However, if he hit something with these babies? They'd stay down.<br><br>Slowly making his way through a sea of trees, Derrick noticed the beacon through the IR view in his goggles. A beeline was made for the light, though attention was also paid for any noises or rustling. His movements were deliberate, Derrick spoke in the comm <strong>"Landed without a snag, you ladies alright?"</strong> All the while a slight feeling of unease rested in the pit of Derrick's stomach, he had a feeling about these woods. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>30-03-2010, 11:01:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				When, after all her explanations of how noises would attract infected over long distances and that she killed them silently because of that, this Jake decided to shoot his gun twice at two stinkers who were no threat and could have been finished off comfortably and quite without a sound from up the plain, she knew she would rather not be around him while he still had ammunition and food enough not to care. It had been a long time since his sort had been around in Europe, people who thought they knew better than to heed advice by those who knew from experience how best to deal best with situations had died out by now for obvious reasons.<br><br>Jake had a gun, fine, but he was a liability, as he would use it without caution. She shook her head when he proposed they should get inside the plane. She had already put her leather protections back on when he had started shooting, and now picked up her rucksack and stated in her usually whisper. "Thanks, but I'm more comfortable on the move, in the woods, not stuck in the open. Inside your plane, I won't see what's going on around. And I'd rather not be around when stinkers show up and you shoot that gun some more. I told you all you need to know to get by, food you've got, water you know where to find now, and what's safest to do you already know, too. So, bye, and good luck!" <br><br>She slipped off the plane and out of sight instantly. What was that saying, 'you made your bed, now lie in it'? She had no qualms about leaving him alone, they had exchanged information, he had gotten a lot more than she had out of the bargain, and had made little use of it: Explain 'don't let them see you, don't attract their attention' and he stood up on the plane, as exposed as could be, and moved about for them to see, tell him 'make no noise' and he fired a gun, twice. He'd have to learn alone, the hard way, or he'd always be a danger to everyone near him, not the kind of man she'd take back to her people or be stuck with. <br><br>It wasn't as if she was leaving a helpless kid behind, he was a soldier, fit, uninjured, combat trained, well fed, armed. Besides, he was only here because his plane crashed, otherwise, he'd be guarding the borders and not hesitate for a second to kill survivors who tried to make it out of this hell. Too bad for him he had ended up stuck in the middle of it himself. She didn't hold it against him, who he was, but it sure didn't induce her to go out of her way and run risks to keep him company or help him adjust. On her hands and knees once more, she scanned the tree lines, then crawled back the way she had come, covered in cold sweat despite the heat for as long as she was in the open.<br><br><div align="center">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><br>Night fell, and with it, darkness came. The faint bow of a moon hardly gave any light, the stars looked immense and near, more numerous than anyone would have dreamed who had lived in one of the perpetually illuminated countries. The glow of light that could be seen by satellites in all populated areas and near it, here it was gone, had been switched off, a whole continent lay in complete darkness, darker than even in medieval times, for now, light was no help, no protection, it was the very thing to draw danger, and so whoever had one, was hiding with it where it could not penetrate the darkness outside the confined space of a single room.<br><br>Near one it was, when Europe's silence was shattered by the approach of another plane, coming closer towards Bonn, growing louder, dropping humans and provisions alike on parachutes. Into the inky dark they rushed, then slowed, gliding down, towards the trees, the open ground, the plane nearby they had not seen from above, unless Jake had left a light on. For a while, several whole minutes, all went well on the ground for the team, they scrambled back onto their feet, changed clothes, packed things, searched for the rest of the team. But then, there was one who needed a light, a beacon to find the others, an LED flashlight. And flash it did, and blink.<br><br><div align="center">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><br>Franka had woken up when she had first heard the plane, while it still was miles off. She had gotten out of her hammock, packed it, Shaken out and stretched her limbs, massaged her muscles into smoothness and readiness to respond by the time she first saw the plane's light's up there. This was no accident, there was no sign of damage or distress, of it being off course, it was not a forced landing in the making, either. More than anything, this horrified Franka. At first, she expected it to drop bombs, more gas, and she knew, she had no chance, not here, not this time. Drop something the plane did, but it wasn't bombs. It was people.<br><br>What should she do? Get away double quick. Right? But she couldn't get it in her head. What did they want here, why, except for poisonous gas, after six whole years, this was the first time anything had intentionally been dropped over Europe? Nothing had they ever sent to help its people, not the tiniest package of food or medicine, or even a bloody leaflet with information or news, naught, nada, niente. She dropped off the tree and made her way towards where they'd land, she had to know, had to see, had to listen. She didn't want to be seen or heard herself, wasn't sure whether she'd want to help them, but she must know, simply must, who had sent them here, and why, why now. <br><br>She had almost reached the tree line, baffled they should drop here, could it be coincidence, that they came down that close to Jake's plane? She came to a halt, in a safe distance to the plane, stared into the dark, listening. Her face was smeared with coal, as every night, and she wore thin, black gloves. She had her machete out, which was blackened, too, not to reflect light. She was breathing slowly, inaudible, as around her, through the rustling of leaves and the whisper of wind in the grass, the sounds of intrusion could be heard. Someone was changing or packing. Someone else stumbled through nearby trees. All of them muttered or talked. Sounded American. A man, two women. What on earth were three people supposed to achieve here? <br><br>Were they only the first, maybe scouts? Or was this some secret mission thing? Then, as if their voices weren't bad enough, she saw the LED lamp blink and blink again, and froze in horror. Three options. Warn them, watch them die, get away and let them deal with it alone. No, wait, there still was Jake. They could all scramble up on his plane and shoot at infected for a few more months until they'd ran out of ammo, meanwhile fighting over food - or the two women. The choice what she should do next was taken from Franka, for there came a stinker, running straight for the light, her way. She heard its breath, could tell it was opening its mouth for a first scream or howl - and swung her machete in a wide arch, putting all her skill and weight into that one strike, aiming for its throat.<br><br>She felt and heard the blade slice through flesh, sinews, cartilage. She made two quick steps, to avoid being hit by a fountain of blood that could shoot a metre or so out its artery before the blood pressure was so low it merely flowed, then stilled. She heard the spluttering gurgle of air escaping the windpipe, heard the body crush dry branches as it hit the ground. Away from there, just away, as fast as she could, making no noise. She didn't think of the new arrivals now, in the dark, they'd never find the stinker before she had gotten away from it, but killing the stinker must have been heard, if there were more around, they'd be heading towards the sound, or the light, and she didn't want to be near either. No fun fighting stinkers in the dark. <br><br>Little did she suspect that she could not only have been heard, but might actually be seen, by those of the team who had some night-vision and happened to look out for the source of the noise, the wild, running steps, the grunt, the gurgling noise, its crashing body. There she was, a slim, female shape, ducked, weaving carefully between the trees, bent to away as best she could in the dark, clutching her machete, playing it by ear, relying on the one, the sharpened sense upon everything now depended in that pitch dark, although her eyes were wide, trying to see what little she could in the thin, thin hint of moonlight that here and there outlined a few shapes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>30-03-2010, 16:20:18</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh really couldn't care for all of the military lingo, but this was their lives and there was no point going on a tirade about how little she actually understood any of them. Wordlessly, carefully, she made the small trek from her little spot in the bush to the flashing light ahead. The one piece flight suit wasn't as neat as she had once thought, it made her feel clunky as she attempted to step over logs, branches, and even small ditches. Without much incident, the scientist was regrouped with her commanding officer. <br><br>"Okay, so maybe the night vision would have been a good idea." Ashleigh could barely see the face of Anna, but could tell well enough that she somehow found the time for a change of clothes. Derrick's voice rang through the comm device, too, and she was glad to hear it. <br><br>"I made friends with a few trees, but otherwise, me and An-- Officer Hackett made it alright." The woman wasn't sure if the whole first name basis extended beyond just herself and the elder of the two. There was no point in testing that theory out anyway, as one of them had a much bigger gun. Feeling considerably safer now than she did earlier, Ashleigh went ahead and tucked her pistol away.<br><br>Squinting in the dark, there wasn't a whole lot that the scientist could make out. Shapes and figures were apparent, but what they were exactly was something that alluded her. Only able to act on intuition alone, Ashleigh spoke up. "We're missing one... Utem, was it?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>30-03-2010, 17:51:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh's voice was a relief, confirming that the two women were currently safe. He wasn't overly fond of Utem and didn't care one way or another. He supposed it would be in their best interest to reunite with them before something caught his attention.<br><br>Derrick made his way silently through the forest when he heard a slight struggle and what sounded like a body dropping. His hearing was highly acute, he knew the sound of a blade being swung and striking home on a target. This swing in question had a heavier thud in comparison to what a regular knife would be able to achieve. It likely meant a machete or a sword, maybe even a hatchet were used. Turning quickly towards the direction the sound came from, he did a little figuring out in his head.<br><br>The infected didn't have the motor skills to utilize weapons, this meant a human. Whoever this person was? They were capable and knew the layout of the land well enough to keep out of sight. That mattered little with his handy goggles though. Derrick weighed out the situation in his head, and slung the rifle over his shoulder by the strap. Instead silently slipping out his ka-bar. Holding the blade in one hand he carefully approached the trees and said <strong>"I know....you can hear me. If you promise to play nice, I won't hurt you."</strong> He was positive whoever this person was, they were a survivor. Soldiers and armed forces type were more gung ho and would have blown the monster away in a hail of gunfire. Basically giving away their location, this mystery person though? They were highly stealthy. <br><br>Looking carefully, he saw movement. A figure ducked behind the trees. It appeared to be a woman, this wasn't unexpected. Slipping the knife back into his holster, Derrick held his hands up so she could see that he wasn't coming at her with a weapon. His voice was quite low, and he wasn't speaking into the comm. Wanting to put her at ease. It'd been awhile since he dealt with survivors, this required tact.<br><br><strong>"Hey, easy. My name is Derrick, I just want to talk. Is that ok with you, love?"</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 01:08:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				His whisper were so unmistakably directed right at her she felt sure he must be able to see her or have the best hearing she'd come across in years. Dang. He sounded American, but spoke slow enough for her to understand. She whispered back. "Or else? What would you do, shoot, or pick a fight?" Her voice had a&nbsp; British accent and a hint of irony. Franka had drawn two conclusions from his tone and behaviour, that he'd not kill her without a reason, and wasn't fool enough to fire a gun or get into a fight with infected around. "I'll not attack you if you leave me alone." She sounded sincere and her whisper was even lower, since he was closer now. <br><br>All she could see of him was that he must be about 1.90 metres, and broad muscles. They were all so bloody well fed, she thought, irrationally, while people over here had been starving. His voice distracted her, though, it was oddly familiar. When he gave his name, she almost started. Derrick? Now she knew. She had heard his voice on that old mp3 recording Jasmine listened to all the time. She had even seen a picture, knew what he'd look like, who he was, she was sure. Not that she'd tell him. <br><br>"I'm Franka. Why are parachuting down here in the middle of the night, sweetums?" She used this ridiculous term to signal she wasn't fond of strangers calling her 'love'. Unless it were fudge-selling old women up in the highlands of Scotland. "You'd better tell that one to stop flashing her light. If stinkers see it, they'll go straight for it. Can't risk shooting, either." <br><br>She thought for a moment, then added. "The other woman, she's about 500 metres to our left, in that group of trees, I heard her. Best tell her to stay where she is and be quiet. You can get her over to the other." It was clear by her tone she wasn't sure whether to expect him to heed her advice, Jake hadn't made her very confident in that regard. She'd much prefer them not to attract infected, make a hell of a noise and start shooting left and right. But they were three, probably all armed with guns, there wasn't much she could do. <br><br>If his instinct was good, Derrick would probably, and rightfully so, expect her to try and get as far away as possible from them the moment they started messing up. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 01:57:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett watched as Ashleigh approached with slight interest, her head moving about every so often to cast a tinted green view out at the abandoned world around her. It made her skin crawl that it was likely she was the first, or one of the first, living people to move about this area in a long time. Survivors maybe had been around, but to her they weren't people, they were tangos. That was one of the ways she distanced herself from the bland morality that was all but useless in warfare. They were not human beings, they were not infected, they were tangos, or hostiles. The Infected, in technial terms, were coined 'India' for Infected in the NATO phonetic alphabet. Any and all survivors were called Sierra Uniform, for Survivors, Uninfected. It was pretty much clear that anyone alive now was unlikely to be infected. It was a game that didn't work particularly well in the early days when the Infected were just like people only rabid. But now, they were just corpses. Obviously decaying corpses, and that made it easier to put them down and not think about it.<br><br>As Ashleigh arrived, Anna gave her a thumbs up and smiled, shutting off the LED and stuffing it into her vest, and handed Ashleigh a small monocle about the size of a salt shaker. "<strong>Its an AN AVS 19, basically a monocle night vision device. Just flip on the switch near that knob, and it'll let you see our IR stuff, so we can avoid using lights like that.</strong>" Anna heard the noise behind her and looked around, noticing Derrick moving about towards it, she focused her attention back on Ashleigh. "<strong>We can ditch that flight suit when we find some cover and a place for you to change, I have an extra pair of BDU's if you want to wear them, they should fit you. Nice and clean, and warm too, and practical to boot.</strong>"<br><br>She pointed towards the West and flipped off her night vision, scooching closer to Ashleigh and trying to think of a good spot to go. "<strong>I think we will find a place to set up and get our bearings, I receieved a mission update on my laptop while we jumped, probably with a list of spots for us to hit that were medical or research facilities in this area. You can pick a nice, cozy spot for us to lay up and we'll set to work doing our job and hopefully getting home in one piece.</strong>" <br><br>Anna knew that was far more an easy as possible explanation, closer to the truth would likely be it'd take them days or weeks to find a suitable place for Ashleigh to do her work. Anna had studied local maps and knew the terrain fairly well. She had suggested they try and find a guide, maybe a local soldier who had been evacuated, who could help them out, but it seemed the best they had was Derrick. From the talking he was doing, which Anna could clearly hear, that might have been an a problem. She tapped Ashleigh on the arm and waved her finger towards herself. "<strong>Stay with me, hold onto me or something, just stay close.</strong>" Anna whispered in a hushed tone, standing up but staying heavily bent over and crouched. Her knees flared up in pain at the weight on her back crushing down but she ignored it as she brought her 416 up and let the holographic sight dance its way around, moving with a silent step through the maze of trees adjacent to Derrick. She stopped and stared at Derrick's IR flickering in the distance. With the night vision and the slight wash out from the IR strobe, Anna could only guess she was about 150 meters from Derrick, and the woman he was talking to wasn't too far off. Anna propped her rifle up on a low branch and aimed at the womans head. Normally with just a close quarters sight she wouldn't be able to accurately target anything beyond 100 meters. But with the infrared designator on the end of her rifle, her night vision gave her a way of targeting without aiming as the invisible laser danced about frantically from tree to tree, zeroing in on the unknown.<br><br>For a moment she held her breath, and slowly began to ease in and out of her silent breathing, her heart rate rocketed to a near dull throb of its former peak from the fall and the landing, and the IR designator's laser fell onto the womans chest, if Derrick had his night vision on he'd see it. She was human, Derrick was talking and she wasn't flying towards him with total disregard for anything in her way, so she was a survivor. Probably looking to gut them the first chance she got, trying to steal whatever she could eat or use, lucky that Derrick had cornered her, or at least made her stop. Hackett could drop a fully sprinting target in a desert sandstorm from 300 meters or more, she was less skilled with these types of sights but at 200 meters or less it was only a game of chance whether or not the trees would be a factor or not. Hackett looked around every so often, her weapon and body remained totally motionless, despite the burn beginning to rage in her legs from the incredible weight and awkward stance she now adopted.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 04:14:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Listening closely to the accent, Derrick thought for a second trying to place it. It was a form of British Dialect, however the phrasing was what caught him off guard. After a small moment he remarked <strong>"Hmm you speak English pretty well, British accent...I'm guessing you're German though?"</strong> Derrick had an ear for that sort of thing, and thought that maybe a little idle conversation would endear himself to her. He had hoped to find a relatively sane survivor, that would be his best chance at finding Jasmine. <br><br>Hearing her little challenge to him, he bit his lip for a moment. <strong>"I wouldn't shoot in the middle of the woods if I could help it, you'd bring everything in the area down on us....Look....Franka? We're here on a mission, I suppose you could say...Well...I am joining them. I'm here on my own agenda."</strong> It was foolish to completely trust anyone, Derrick hadn't even expressed to his teammates why he was on the mission. Why would he divulge that information to this stranger? <br><br>Something caught his attention though. A small dot on Franka's chest...that wasn't Ashleigh. With a roll of his eyes, Derrick raised his voice very slightly and said <strong>"Please excuse me for a brief second. I'm using my comm."</strong> Turning it on, he whispered into it <strong>"Hackett, lower your weapon. I'm having a conversation here, and I wouldn't advise opening fire in these woods."</strong> Glancing over in the direction he was sure she was in, and giving her a motion to lower her weapon. The last thing he needed was for his possible only chance of finding Jasmine to get killed in the middle of these woods over a misunderstanding.<br><br>Thinking for a moment, he turned his attention back to the young woman and said <strong>"If I may ask, what are you doing in these woods? Scouting? Looking for food? Supplies?"</strong> He'd spent time with survivor groups in the past, knew that their existence was turned to one of constantly fighting nature and hardship. She very likely resented the soldiers, and had every right to. Derrick himself wasn't overly fond of them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 05:32:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She kept her distance from him, always stayed far enough to be out of reach even if he'd suddenly jump her, risking to trample loudly through the underwood to catch her. Still, she stayed close enough that they could hear each other's whispers. "Ja. I'm German. Surprise, huh?" He could almost hear the wink she'd normally have delivered with it, there was a grin in her voice. As long as he made no attempts to creep up on her, she seemed relaxed, friendly enough. "Smart decision, I'd go down screaming." He could hear the grin in her voice again when he professed he wouldn't shoot. When he continued, she was silent for a moment. "I don't know about your mission, but no matter what it's about, it sure is a damn bad sign someone thinks it's necessary. As for you - I 'd say I know exactly why you're here, Derrick Silva." <br><br>When he talked to his comrade, she listened in, of course, and instantly dropped on her stomach. Holy hell, did they have such weapons, could they spot her, shoot her, without her seeing them? She crawled further downhill, into a ditch, knew she mustn't be seen from where the LED light had blinked. But where was the other, the second woman? Crap, shite, and bloody hell, really! She should have stayed away! She hissed. "You come one step closer, I'll scream. Your friends fire one shot, I'll scream." Gosh, was she praying now, that he was indeed Derrick Silva and had come for his daughter!<br><br>She listened, for his reply, for any sign of the others attacking, for bloody stinkers to turn up or maybe that Jake guy starting to fire his gun or to call out for someone, who knew what else couldn't go bloody wrong on a day as fucked up as this. Wiping a cobweb out of her face, she forced herself to calm down, keep talking, keep things friendly. "Scouting. A plane crashed nearby a while back, but I only saw it a few days ago. There's an American soldier in it. He'll stand up on the plane and shoot at stinkers in broad daylight, when you've just explained why one must keep out of their sight and be quiet, and you're sitting right next to him with a slingshot and all, so, I didn't care to stick around."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 05:55:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Was it just his head or was Franka acting a little flirtatious towards him? That could be a good sign, unless of course she was one of those women utilized by more...less than moral group of survivors. They'd frequently use women as bait, and to set people up for ambushes. Derrick really didn't need to be concerned about that, however his alarm was raised when she utilized his full name and mentioned that she knew why he was here. <br><br>Derrick narrowed his eyes before she dropped to her stomach, mentally he cursed Hackett for having happened upon the two of them. So Jasmine was still alive! There was no way he could be this lucky, to drop into a forest and come across a survivor who seemingly knows of his mission. However this assured that Derrick couldn't let anything happen to her. Putting himself between Franka and the direction the sight had come from, he said <strong>"Whoa, whoa. Relax, just keep cool."</strong> Keeping his eyes trained on her, he gently responded <strong>"Nothing is going to happen, if she'd wanted you dead? You'd be dead by now. Look at me here, I promise you...nothing will happen to you...but what do you mean that you know why I am here?"</strong> Derrick needed to hear it for himself, he needed to hear that this woman knew of Jasmine, that Jasmine was alive and she knew where she was.<br><br>Listening to her explain about the plane, Derrick tried to recall if he had heard of any expeditions in the area for a moment before quietly thinking to himself that the soldier sounded like one of those Gung-Ho types who didn't know how to handle themselves in the new world, where the enemy weren't guerillas who they could exchange fire with. Derrick sighed as he crossed his arms gently, Franka would not be&nbsp; let out of his sights. Not until he had Jasmine back in his arms, until that point? His new best friend here was made first priority, even above that of the group's resident scientist.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 06:34:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Still flat on her stomach and neither trusting the silence nor Derrick, although he had positioned himself between her and the possible attacker now, Franka was as uncomfortable as could be. What was this mission? Why drop three, only three, people here, on a mission, and what mission could that be? What if these three didn't return, what would they send next? Wasn't it bad enough to be stuck here with the stinkers and the hunger - and each other? No, now they had to drop some high tech laden military freaks on top of them. <br><br>"I am relaxed." She lied. "Just stating what's it going to be if you and your friends try and do me in." She sounded almost cute in her defiance, as that angry whispering in the dark was slightly reminiscent of the kind of late night bickering that happens in the bedroom now and then. Well, almost. Obviously, Franka had rather little to threaten him with in case he should not be Derrick Silva. While, if he was that man, had come for Jasmine, well, then - she needed him to keep his friends off her back, and - well, much as she might try to deny this fact, she'd have a hard time to allow Jasmine's father to get killed, leave alone to be the one responsible for his death. <br><br>He was right, though. Since they hadn't even attempted to kill her, either they wouldn't risk the noise or didn't want her dead - yet. "Ok, so they don't want me dead for now. What's it they want, though? Why are they here? Why risk a drop at night if not to avoid being noticed by survivors?" She asked. She intentionally let a few long seconds pass in silence before she answered his last question. "Just that, if you are Derrick Silva, I know why you're here. If you're him, I was right when I thought I had recognised your voice. I'm pretty sure I did, I've been treated to listening to it on a bloody recording often enough to drive anyone insane."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 17:18:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh listened to Anna's few instructions. They weren't anything that she wasn't planning on doing anyway, but it was nice to be told things for her own safety. As she followed the other woman, chatter over the comm system could be heard. It was Derrick, though he wasn't talking to Anna or herself, there was another. The soft tone in his voice wasn't one that she would expect him to use with Utem, so this must be someone new. What are the odds that they find someone already?<br><br>Stepping up by Derrick, it was clear that his posture and his tone was a relaxed one. Ashleigh tried using that monocle thing that Anna gave her, but fumbled with it. She really, really hated the dark. This left the only clues to figure out exactly what was going on - Anna pointing her weapon into the woods, and Derrick insisting that she didn't.<br><br>"A survivor..." Ashleigh said softly, not wanting to alert that person to her. "Whatever you do, don't spook her. Not just because she is still amongst those who can use her brain, but I could collect some blood samples, see if she has a sort of immunity or if the virus is dormant inside of her." There has been very little evidence of such a thing occurring, but the scientist has always been thorough in her research. To back up her words, Ashleigh placed a hand on the top of Anna's weapon, applying soft pressure to suggest that she lower it. <br><br>She was about to speak aloud to the woman in question, but Derrick's conversation with her turned into something far more sensitive. His daughter, someone that he had seldom mentioned, is close by. Not that Ashleigh was going to be a prude about the mission, but this was officially a conflict of interest, and Anna is likely to take exception. Scientists aren't supposed to be mediators, too. <br><br>"Okay... Anna? Should we try to find Utem? He hasn't piqued up on the comms." Ashleigh was the one to use the soft, relaxed tone this time. She didn't want to spoke this girl by crowding her with a bunch of people that fell from the sky, and she could only assume that Derrick would do well to convince her that they were only acting in her best interest.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 20:07:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett hissed in barely contained fury as Derrick spoke to her over comms, and motioned in her direction. She dropped down and spun around, looking back towards Ashleigh's way to check her back. She was struggling to wonder why Derrick had done that, and whether or not she would kill him here and now. It had been in the back of her mind since Hickam; the idea that these mercs wouldn't be on her side. She had steeled herself from them intentionally, without any hesitation to kill them and leave them as lunch for the Infected. She would do so without a breath to protect her objective and complete her mission, she owed them nothing and as she found out, knew it was a good idea that she didn't consider them necessary.<br><br>The first words about Derrick's daughter gave Hackett slight pause as she peeked around the tree and squinted hesitantly at his IR strobe. In the foreground in front of him she could see where the woman was, and Hackett guessed where she might be now, but could no longer see her. At first Hackett wanted to move and get a better shot, quipping that even so dead people who were potentially hostile or possibly otherwise innocent of hostile intent were just as good as living hostiles in terms of her not really caring, but Ashleigh's hand on her gun made Hackett pause. But it didn't change her mission, as Hackett gently grabbed Ashleigh's wrist and moved her hand off her weapon, looking at her with a sigh and flipping on the safety. Hackett hated working with these kinds of people because they were exactly like this, had their own objectives. She wasn't here because she followed orders, though she did, she was here because this was her job. As it stood, the little confidence she had in her teams ability to complete the mission before, was all but gone now, including the scientist. Actually, it was all gone, now it simply became an issue of whether they'd fuck it up by allowing hostiles to gather information on them, sabotage weapons, or lead them into an ambush. Or, if they'd turn on her themselves.<br><br>That idea was forced out quick, Hackett sure as hell didn't have the time to go conspiracy theorist, but she was certain for her own reasons that no survivors would be helpful to them. Hackett was debating what to do. Derrick was here for his own reasons, and could fuck off for all Hackett cared. She wasn't risking her ass to save some kid or anyone, she was following orders to ensure Ashleigh's survival, damn everyone else. But of course, Ashleigh was also in charge. As the young scientist mentioned Utem, Hackett turned back to face her and looked around, half expecting to see Utem's IR strobe flashing in the distance. "<strong>Fuck him, he can fend for himself,</strong>" Hackett whispered, sitting back against the tree and sighing. She wasn't giving up, but right now if Derrick wanted to get lured into an ambush by some of these wacko-fuck locals, she wouldn't lose any sleep over it. "<strong>You know we can get blood from a corpse, it's</strong>" Hackett paused shaking her head. "<strong>Whatever you say, your in charge.</strong>" With that, Hackett sank down to the ground and curled her legs in. <br><br>Fuck this mission. Already a few minutes in, and they had broken most of the rules in covert warfare. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 20:36:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett... definitely wasn't a fan of the whole angel approach. She definitely wasn't going to win any awards for being a saint. Ashleigh wasn't sure exactly what to make out of this situation, as the scientist really couldn't afford to lose the only person who truly had a stake in her survival. Utem looked to be too tied into his own ideals to truly care - he probably could fashion his own way home should he need it. Derrick, as of now, had his daughter as a priority and in turn a stake in this newcomer's survival. How is it that this mission had gone from one thing into any number of personal endeavors? <br><br>"Getting blood from a corpse isn't the point, Anna..." Ashleigh said just as calmly as before. "I can understand where you're coming from about the survivors here, but that is half of our goal here. We're trying to improve life here, and if we start by being suspicious and cold, we're not going to get anywhere." She was using the comm to speak to her without alerting the other woman in question. Despite that fact, Ashleigh went over and kneeled by the military officer. "You have to have a little faith in the human element..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 21:11:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett uncomfortably fidgeted with her rifle's safety as Ashleigh stared at her, she was awkwardly thumbing with the safety out of a lack of patience rather than boredom. As Ashleigh spoke however, Hackett clued in and looked over. From the scientists perspective, Hackett must have looked kind of silly. Her head moved about a lot, and the awkwardly long night vision goggles and large helmet would make her head look lopsided, which it kind of felt like. Her head dipped down every time she looked about, until she could finally rest her helmet against the tree she was leaning awkwardly against, the pack was a good 3 quarters of a foot thick vertically, which mean she wasn't leaning on the tree, just maybe thinking she was. Maybe she was grouchy with Derrick because her back hurt, and she was half expecting them to be inside of a temporary outpost, singing songs and roasting the marshmellows Hackett had jokingly taken along for the simple sake of her sanity, and the hope that mindless infected couldn't screw up a mission too much, just run fast and die quick. Or die a second time, it seemed.<br><br>But alas, the scientists words hit home. She didn't really consider it a matter to be discussed, but remained silent as Ashleigh spoke. She disagreed with the survivor idea, it might have been a bit cold to immediately assume this woman was intending to harm them, but Hackett refused to accept appearances as they came along, she focused on the worst possible and never on the optimal, world is good motives of people. She scoffted at Ashleigh's mention of the human element. First mission ever with her team had been a rescue mission of trapped missionaries in Taiwan, who were caught in the middle of a flaring civil war resulting in genocide. She must have seen a few thousand dead bodies along streets and people walking about as if it was nothing, completely normal and justified. That was Hackett's experience with the human element, and to be honest, she didn't want any more. <br><br>But Hackett nodded her approval to Ashleigh, sighing and blinking stupidly as she noticed Ashleigh was much, much closer than earlier. Weird she didn't see it, but she did. Just, she didn't really mind. "<strong>Alright, I suppose your right.</strong>" Hackett gritted her teeth, looking around as she nodded her agreement in full with the scientists perspective. Her mission was to protect Ashleigh, and the scientists was... Hackett didn't actually know, but then again that didn't matter. So long as the young scientists intent wasn't to discover the effects the virus would have when injected into angry female sailors, then Hackett was contented to follow along and shoot at things. Childhood dreams were made and broken by the US Navy, Hackett never did get to Captain a ship. "<strong>We'll do this your way, then. Hand out hugs and gentle reassurances that sunshire and milk chocolates still exist.</strong>" Hackett spoke with unhidden sarcasm, but she would follow Ashleigh's desires, sitting up slightly and looking around the tree towards Derrick.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>31-03-2010, 22:30:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem was about to jump when he say Derrick stap ahead of him, he barely avoided to crash against him, but hitted the edge of the hatch instead,&nbsp; bouncing against it and falling. The extra weight on both his back and chest made him spinning wildly, as he cursed loudly, hearing the click that signaled his com device had been either damaged or disconnected. <br><br>&nbsp;Spinning madly, he thanked for the 'leisure' training in the gyroscope, as he tried to control himself, fighting against the wind and time. After some struggle, he managed to steady himself, glancing fast at his altitude marker. He had a few seconds to find Hackett's signal, unluckily it was nowhere to be seen. He cursed again and deployed his chute at the marker. That was the only thing of this jumps that he hated. The adrenaline, the feeling of the wind as he sped to the ground, the sensation he got from freefall, he found some enjoyment in all of them. But the lurch when the chute opened at that speed...he would never get used to it.<br><br>He looked around carefully, he had already activated the night vision before jumping, so he was searching for any source of light. Finally, he spotted Hackett's beacon and did his best to get as close as he could before he fell amongst a bunch of trees. Once he was sure the branches wouldn't brake, Utem cut the strings on one side, holding to the other. A few swings were enough to hear the fabric rip as he fell to the ground, fast but in a controoled fashion. <br><br>His legs hit the ground and he rolled forward, careful not to stab himself. Once the strings of the other side were trough, he got up and checked his gear. The knife went back to the pocket on his arm and was replaced with one of the guns that was safely strapped to the side of the backpack on his chest. The com was busted, he would have to check it later, in the meantime, the DZ was a some miles away and he had a walk in the night ahead of him. <br><br><em>'milk chocolates still exist'</em><br>He overheard Hackett's voice and grinned relieved, his helmet was dangling behind him, fastened to the bagpack. "Sorry for the delay, Dixon thought it would be smart to jump before I did and a series of unfortunate events took place, my com is busted and my chute is useless." He raised his gun at Dixon and stared at him. "Put your personal interests over the safety of the rest of us again and I'll list you as a unnecessary liability." His voice was flat and clear, he wasn't going to make a fuss about it, at least not now. He dropped his bags next to the rest and took out a box from the tools, sitting down to try and fix the busted gear. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 00:24:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick merely rolled his eyes at the newcomer. <strong>"Right, ask me if I care?"</strong> Flipping him the bird before returning his attention to Franka. <strong>"Please excuse me for one moment."</strong> Turning his attention to the group, he glanced over at them and said <strong>"So yeah, now it's known why I'm here. You all want to go on? Be my guest. I'm not holding a gun to any of your heads and telling you to stay here...however. Smart guy?"</strong> This was directed to Utem, <strong>"Has it ever occurred to you that establishing a conversation with someone who actually resides in the area would offer a lot of answers to a lot of questions burning in your heads? Big picture, junior. You're still in the amateur leagues."</strong><br><br>Walking over to the direction he was sure Hackett was in, Derrick spoke more softly. <strong>"She said there's an American soldier in this area, currently stationed in a camped wreckage I believe? Would you know anything about him and what he's doing out here?"</strong> <strong>"Now if you excuse me, I will be talking to my new best friend over there."</strong> He'd left out the bit that he would personally execute anyone who came between his daughter and him. Before making his way back towards his previous location.<br><br><strong>"So...she still has that recorder, and you obviously know her...so you know of me. She is alive, otherwise you wouldn't have mentioned her...and if you know of me from what she's said?...You know I'd pretty much kill you if you were lying to me...Where is Jasmine?"</strong> He was getting breathless in anticipation of her answer, yet with every word uttered there were a thousand questions in his head. Was she happy? How well did she remember him? Was she being properly cared for? Hell what of her mother? ...It was true the two of them were on well...rocky terms, but still a part of Derrick cared deeply for her. <strong>"I know they aren't giving you any reason to trust them, but I do think it'd be helpful if you came with us. For the time being, I won't make you do anything. But I can promise you protection...I just need to find Jasmine...I'll give you anything you want if you take me to her."</strong> His voice notably dropped here, he was trying hard to keep his emotions in check.<br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 03:03:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm talking about the stunt you pulled in the plane..." Utem answered, not looking up at Derrick. "You could have gotten me killed and scattered in a really wide area half of our provisions and tools for this week and a half. If the jump order was called, only an amateur would jump like you did." he ignored the rest of his chat and finished what he was working in. He did a brief checks and grinned, glad that the damage wasn't that bad.&nbsp; <br><br>He got up and headed in the direction Hackett was. "What's the plan? Will we camp here or look for somewhere with a bit more cover?" For the time being he was ignoring 'the locals', as Dixon had called her. He needed to know what they were going to do if he was going to do the job he had been ordered to do. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 03:32:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett grumbled to herself as Utem showed up, she'd seen his IR strobe for a short while, it had caught her off guard but what else would be carrying it? She tapped Ashleigh on the arm and pointed in the direction Utem was approaching from and nodded. He spoke before she could point him out, and scoffed at his stomping off towards Derrick. They appeared to exchange words, Hackett could hear it as Derrick approached and made no effort to move. He spoke his mind, and she shrugged her shoulders in lacked interest. "<strong>...or there could be a nice trap waiting for us to show up, and with no thanks to you we are behind schedule and we have an unknown target with friends.</strong>" Hackett hissed, the disdain she felt for Derrick after he openly endangered her own life and Ashleigh's was clear and obvious. "<em>but as for you, I wouldn't expect a spot to sleep anywhere near us anytime soon. You can keep your walking death trap back there, but for all intents and purposes, you and the stray you picked up can fuck off.</em>" She didn't actually say that of course, only thought it, but wish she had as he walked away and Utem showed up.<br><br>"<strong>Utem... what the fuck happened?</strong>" Anna tilted her head and spoke in a whisper as she sat up slightly, glancing back at Derrick rejoining his new 'friend'. Use the term loosely, cause Hackett could care less. "<strong>The plan? The plan is waiting on numb nuts back there, because he is carrying our solar charger, which we might need. Right now, I want to find a nice, dark building so de Jong can pick out a building with suitable ....</strong>" Hackett paused, looking back towards Derrick and his friend, or where she might be. For all Hackett knew she was scampering through the woods away from the ambush about to start up. Its easier to sleep at night when you don't hear the screaming, or so Hackett thought as she shook her head. "<strong>...suitable medical equipment for her tests or whatever.</strong>"<br><br>Hackett sat up on her knees and tapped Ashleigh on the shoulder. "<strong>You hungry? I got a trail mix bar in my ruck bottom if you want to have it.</strong>" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 04:54:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem was about to answer but took a deep breath and calmed down, he wasn't going to vent his anger on her. "Dixon decided to jump before I did, just as I was about to jump. I had to jump to the side to avoid him and I crashed against the edge of the hatch. The communications in my helmet were busted so I had no means of contacting you." he finished an looked around. "Since I was falling like a pinwheel, I got off course and ended up on top of a bunch of trees and had to walk over here withthose two bags." He sat down and took a deep breath again. <br><br>"About a building, I have a satellite GPS amongst the tools, it has a very good resolution of the ground, we could use it to scan the area for suitable buildings. We would have to search and clear them throughly first..." He reached inside one of his pockets and took out a candy bar. "Regarding my view of this mission, you are in charge, I have no interest in being leader and I don't trust Dixon. "de Jong has no experience, no offense intended, so I think you should make the calls. Just let me know where are we heading and when." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 05:30:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem arrived, and Franka wondered whether there were still more of them in the woods. They irritated her with all their talking, hissing, whispering in broad accents. She heard anger in their voices, they weren't pleased Derrick was talking to her. But none seemed eager to kill her, either, which she took as a good sign, for now. No amount of drinking St.John's wort could render your eyes sensitive enough to light to see much of any of them in this dark, but they all looked armed, fit, trained, equipped with the latest technology - all perhaps than one, the woman whose hair was a pale shimmer under the trees. <br><br>Franka slowly got back to her feet, keeping a safe distance from Derrick and the rest. Her ears strained their hardest to listen into the woods, for the far away sounds, the noises of animals, checking for anything that might contain a warning. It was difficult to do with this much activity of gathered people, moving this way and that, talking, doing things. Insufferable, for one like her who preferred to remain in utter silence at night. She forced herself to allow her attention to divide and focus partly on Derrick. <br><br>"Yes, she's still got it. She remembers you - but she was four, six years ago, right? She's okay, safe, a tad small for her age, very smart. I'll not tell you where she is or bring you to her." She paused for emphasis. "I might bring her to you, but that depends. I must be sure you're better for her than what she's got now. Obviously, you didn't tell your people why you're here. Those who sent you, can you even say whether they'll let her out of Europe? They kill everybody else who tries to leave. She's smart, so I guess you are. Think it through. All of it, all consequences."<br><br>When he promised to keep her safe, give her everything she wanted, she shook her head."I don't need protection except from the people you brought here. You'll only try to keep me alive for as long as I'm your only way to get your kid. That's okay. But stop this crap. You've got nothing I want, and if you had it, you couldn't give it to me. It's all empty word, waste of time. You want your daughter? Prove to me you're a good father. I won't do a thing for you - but for her, I'll do a lot. Now, better get things sorted out with your people before you alienated them completely." She grumbled, obviously not inclined to follow him to the others or continue the conversation. She wanted him to think about what best to do, not talk about Jasmine and ask endless questions that would only distract him from what mattered. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 05:52:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick felt a surge of anger, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to use force to achieve his ends. Narrowing his eyes he says <strong>"Because the people I'm here with are after their own agenda, I'm not in any way shape or form affiliated with the United States Armed Forces...the people who sent us out here? They know exactly what I'm here for, and I have authorization to bring her stateside."</strong> However he wasn't able to suppress his anger for long, and through gritted teeth Derrick remarked <strong>"She's my daughter, and she belongs with me....."</strong> It was just then something crossed his mind. Franka wouldn't be allowed to get that close to Jasmine, had her mother still been alive. <br><br>Derrick held his hand over his mouth as the realization sunk in, <strong>"...Rosa....fuck."</strong> Closing his eyes for a moment, his fist balled up and he punched a nearby tree with an incredible amount of force. It felt like he had been kicked in the gut. Rosa, was dead? It was impossible, he had left her with her for safekeeping as he tried to mend bridges to get the two of them passports so they could come stateside. Wiping at his eyes slowly, Derrick looked back to Franka <strong>"Jasmine's....mother, what happened to her?"</strong> He needed to hear it for himself, he needed to know. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 06:23:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka could tell how angry he was, it didn't surprise her, either. The two facts she learned that mattered to her were that he had permission to take Jasmine out of here, and that he had the typical 'She's my child she belongs with me' idea most parents had, forever convinced their kid couldn't possibly be better off with someone else. Probably that was the very thing Jasmine's parents had been fighting over, each attached to one arm and pulling as hard as they could to claim their beloved kid - usually what people did back then after separating. <br><br>"If you take her out of here, will she be allowed to live with you? Where will they keep her? I mean - with the infection risks and all?" She asked, ignoring the rest. If Derrick had not been so pumped up with emotions, he might have noticed what she did was what he'd probably hope someone responsible for his daughter would always do, and by all means - make sure her decisions were the best for the girl. For this, she needed to know giving her into her father's care would grant her a decent prospect of safety, health and happiness.<br><br>"But you're on the mission, right? Or are you abandoning the others now? Did they just take you along so you can look for Jasmine?" She tried to understand, to get an idea of where and how he'd take the girl, and when. His emotional outburst startled her. The crunch of the tree was well audible and, it made her angry in turn. "Get a grip on yourself. You can't afford to be inattentive or to lure infected here. Think of the others." Her whisper was cool, stern. In a somewhat kinder tone she added the obvious. "Died shortly after their plane landed at the airport, Köln/Bonn."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 07:05:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Breathing in slowly, Derrick looked down at the ground. He'd always expected Rosa to outlive him, hell she should have. The things he'd done throughout his life? He didn't deserve to be the one still here. Needing to sit, he found a spot on the ground and parked down. What had Rosa's death done to Jasmine, she couldn't possibly still be the same little girl he had known all those years ago. <br><br>Clearing his head for a second, he recalled Franka's questions. <strong>"Of course she'd be allowed to live with me...don't have a place of residence, I've been on the move constantly...trying to get back out here. As for that mission? It's their mission, not mine. It was the only passage I could get out of the country."</strong> In regards to the team? Utem annoyed the living hell out of him, he could care less if he died. Hackett? Attractive, tough, resourceful but a soldier to the core. Derrick hated soldiers, but there was Ashleigh. That girl had no idea what she was getting into, and she was downright endearing. <br><br>Returning his gaze to Franka, he said <strong>"I will tell you what, if you take me to her? I can get you out of this country also, I have the connections to do so. You don't have to forage and live out of woods anymore. Jasmine...needs....I...need her."</strong> Derrick's expression changed to one of anger as his nostrils flared lightly, <strong>"I don't know you or anyone here, why should I entrust her to your care? You have no right to keep me from her..."</strong> The last part practically growled out as he watched her closely.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 08:00:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The more she heard, the less she liked him. So, he'd come here as part of a team, or at least making them think he was on their side, their mission, only to abandon them on the first opportunity, going behind their backs, after his own goals? What an ass! She had seen a series once, 'Lost', there was a guy in it called Michael, who'd always mess up and screw his own people because he thought only of himself and, or at least he claimed he did, of his son, Walt. But he'd been a shitty dad in Franka's opinion, and an even lousier friend. A bloody traitor. That was more or less the impression she began to have of this Derrick. "So, you just used them and weren't even fair enough to tell them?"<br><br>She knew the answer, from what she had observed. And that last guy had said Derrick had almost gotten him killed for pushing past him and jumping when it wasn't his turn. Derrick hadn't even said he was sorry. He seemed to feel always in the right and entitled to whatever he did, no matter how wrong it was. "Right, it's you who needs her. How's this going to work? Where'll you be picked up, and when? How will you get her there? She's a kid, man, you can't just drag her out of where she's safe and take her along through God knows what. And what do you think the team will do if you just abandon them, their mission? Why shouldn't they just leave you behind, ever thought of that?"<br><br>She fell silent for a moment, focussing on the sounds around them, then stated coldly. "For you it's all about yourself, isn't it? The people she's with have taken care for her six bloody years, that's longer than you even knew her. People died and starved to keep her alive, don't you dare tell me they've got no right to make sure the girl's really better off with you. I'll not bring her to you unless you've convinced me she'll be safe and well with you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 08:28:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Crossing his arms slowly, he thought for a second. "Everything, I do? It is for her." Dropping his rifle for a second, he lifted up his shirt and revaled his torso. Several scars and severe burn marks could be seen on it, along with a heavily stiched scar on his abdomen. <strong>"To make sure she could get stateside...I went back into a line of work I wanted no parts of, this bullet wound here?" This was accompanied with a point to his stomach "This is recent, I got this stateside. A survivor outpost, playing babysitter for an expedition just like this one. In return? She gets a ride to the millitary base we left from...It's not heaven, but it is the best I can give her for now."</strong> <br><br>Sighing deeply he looked back at the group, <strong>"I'm not going to abandon them, because as much as I can't stand most the group...this mission is important, and if it means that this world can be more like the one she was born into? I'll die for it. I could give a shit less what you think about me, but if you stand between me and Jasmine? It won't be pretty, and I will eventually find her...so you can either take me to her? Or I can destroy every living thing until I get to her?...This mission, my life, that team? They mean shit compared to her..."</strong><br><br>He had endured hell to make it out here, and to be able to secure a somewhat decent life for Jasmine back stateside. Had it not been in regards to Jasmine? Derrick would have tried diplomacy, but Jasmine was his world so in a heated tone he snarled <strong>"So is that your final answer? An evaluation is wasting my time."</strong> Hellfire burned in his eyes as he pulled his shirt back on. Derrick had done several horrid things, he would be made to pay for them he was sure. That mattered little to him, he had to see Jasmine.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 09:38:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was a slim thing with a blackened face, barely more than a dark shape in the middle of vaguer, dark shades. She watched him pull up his shirt to display whatever scars she couldn't possibly see in the pitch dark. Listened to he had done because he wanted her back. He didn't seem to have heard a word she had said, didn't seem to care one bit that they had the same interest at heart, or should have, to ensure the little one would be safe. Now he was threatening her. She felt his true nature came out. <br><br>"She's a little girl, she's got a home here, people she loves, it'll be hard for her to leave. But that's not the point. She can stomach that, somehow, I guess. But you can't just march and camp around with her in tow until you're picked up, it's not safe." She tried to make her point again. "I'll bring her to you when I know it's safe for her to go with you." Did he understand what her doubt was about, what she needed to know before she could have a clear conscience about letting the kid go with him? <br><br>"So, what will you do once she's with you? Take her along on the mission, a kid? Or do what? Your plans for her is what I need to know. How you'll keep her safe till she leaves." She paused again, for it to maybe sink in, after all. "Threatening me, torturing me, searching for others, torturing and killing the people who've made sure she'd survive for six years? That's wasting time, lots of it, days, weeks. Telling me how you'll keep her safe, that'll take just a few minutes." <br><br>She wondered whether he'd try to grab her, now, to torture her. His people sure wouldn't help her. She knew, if he had told the truth when he threatened her, he was anything but what Jasmine needed, someone without a conscience, remorse or empathy, incapable even of gratitude towards those who had saved his daughter. He'd kill, murder, plunder and torture his way through their territory without flinching. She'd rather die than help him do that, or to lead that gang he was with to her people. Her fingers were sweaty around the machete. She didn't move. Even if she'd kill him, the others would get her in no time. She couldn't be taken, tortured, or she might betray her people. Then, she'd be dead, for even if they'd let her go eventually - wounded, crippled, she'd have no chance to survive, not here. There was only one way out, not for her, of course, but for her people. Heavy, that machete, quite suddenly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 09:53:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick tilted his head down to the side, <strong>"I wouldn't go for your weapon. I didn't get a look, sounded like a sword or a machete. Either way, you'd have to get in close. Close quarters combat? You have no chance."</strong> However his expression softened as he sighed deeply. <strong>"If I wanted? I could make you give up everything, believe me. I could break you in ways you never imagined, wade into your outpost and lay waste to everything there...but I'm trying not to be that person anymore. Jasmine deserves more."</strong> <br><br>Walking slowly towards her, he kept his hands visible. <strong>"Look, I don't intend to drag her along on this mission. I want to see my daughter though, she deserves to see me face to face. I could do any number of things, but I won't. If I feel your people are up to snuff? I will allow you all to continue providing shelter...until my business here is wrapped up. But you &amp; I aren't leaving this forest unless you take me to see her. I don't trust you enough to allow you to leave without me, so take me to Jasmine? You have my word, there'll be no violence. That's the best offer you're going to get..."</strong><br><br>This woman cared for Jasmine, almost like a mother. Possibly more than her own mother had, she was willing to die for her. That is a large part of why she was still alive. He looked into her eyes for a moment without a word. Was she going to accept his deal? Or was he going to have to resort to old tricks. He really didn't want to, he was fighting every instinct he had. He'd been conditioned to be the worst kind of monster, Jasmine though? She'd saved him from that, the responsibilities of being a father had for those short glorious years made him human once more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 10:38:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett rolled her eyes at Derrick still talking to the stray, her heart had settled down into the same dullness that it usually did when she was preparing a shot. She listened to Utem and shook her head slowly at his every remark, raising up her hand to silent him and pointed at Ashleigh. "<strong>As far as anything to do with the mission goes, Ashleigh here is in charge. No questions or complaining about it.</strong>" Hackett ended that line of thought, looking at Ashleigh through her night vision and slowly casting another look around, half expecting to see shady figures dressed in tattered and ripped clothing trying to sneak up on them with pointy sticks, Anna hadn't killed a living person in nearly a year, which for her mental welfare was amazing but her job as a marksman kind of dull. Unthinking and unintelligent life forms moving from one spot to the next with complete disregard were not very difficult targets, their slow lurching and uninterested wobbling hardly a joy for her to hit at nearly a mile. She hated these missions where her scoped rifle's only job was to provide a means of long range recon and cover, nothing more and surely nothing less, but it still hurt her cold, withered up heart, or so everyone was likely thinking now.<br><br>She had strong opinions about Derrick and his motives, none of them were good and what little she knew, or cared, about his kid said all that needed to be said about the situation. In the long run, one life even a childs life was not worth her mission. That was the driving force behind the stone wall of emotionless tactical proficiency Hackett had, if her mission could save millions then saving one life likely already lost was completely pointless. It might make her a better person, but at this point she'd done enough to know if some kind of distant father figure had created a paradise and an endless nightmare, Anna knew where she was going. Hell, she was already there, she knew it by looking around. A beautiful, full and vibrant night and the only thing on her mind was if she would have to kill the stray and Derrick, or just leave them here to chat away until the sun came up.<br><br>But in the back of her mind, her tactical overview of everything was chiming in its 2 cents about the fact the stray might prove helpful to the mission. She must know the landscape and how to avoid the Infected, Hackett could remain unseen even inches away but against the Infected she wasn't quite sure how they tracked anyone down in pitch blackness. Most human beings had a gut feeling to go on, that feeling in the back of your neck that something wasn't quite right, call it fear or simply acute awareness and Hackett saw it all the same but the Infected likely had no such awareness or treasure to draw on. Scent, hearing or sight were likely ones, or maybe some kind of acute hive mind awareness and memory, knowing when something just wasn't right and a meal was moving about, ready to be devoured. That thought made Hackett shiver noticably, she leaned forward and put one foot on the ground, her other leg keeping her knee planted firmly, and she glanced around some more. If by that understanding, Infected were already on the way and they were wearing out a welcome. <br><br>As Anna mused in her head, she was well aware of Utem's words about his GPS, but she shook her head. "<strong>I want light discipline, we don't have the luxury of using that kind of stuff outside, I want to find a building but I'd rather find one with a medical facility that has 2 floors, and only one set of stairs. Large, but otherwise unremarkable and a roof access to other buildings. We destroy the stairs, and use neighboring buildings to move about to and from, maybe planks or just by jumping, depending on where we end up. Thats the optimal, defensible and easily so. C4 and stairs don't mix, and I've got a good bit of C4.</strong>" Hackett smirked to Utem, grinning almost madly. She loved high explosives, a girls best friend. Fuck diamonds, C4 was less shiny, more... impactful. "<strong>But none the less, I am leaving it up to de Jong, she's knowledgable in what she'd need and I have a mission critical update on my laptop about suitable buildings with last known equipment lists, or so I requested. I assume they came through, nothing satellites and online records can't figure out.</strong>" Hackett nodded contently, shifting her focus. "<strong>But yes, we will need some hard cover and as soon as possible, but turning that GPS on might prove trouble.</strong>" Hackett reasoned, looking out towards the IR beacon still brightly illuminating her vision, washing out her night vision when she looks too closely, she'd have to remember to grab it before they headed out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 10:45:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She didn't have to go for her weapon, she had held it in her hands, ready to use, ever since she had climbed out of her tree, and that wouldn't change, either. If she had to, she'd slice herself open, and she made sure the distance between them was always more than enough to give her the time she needed to do that. When he approached, she moved away, carefully, away from him, away from the others, maintaining exactly the same space between his body and hers that had always been there. <br><br>She was calm, very aware of the forest around her, the sweet night air, the beating of her heart. She didn't want to die, but she might, this time, she might. Who'd have thought she'd do this, do it for other people, not even sure it would really be enough to keep them safe? Why did she let herself get that attached to them all, and when, when had that happened? Their faces, their voices, that little bit of home they had built for themselves, it all was there, now, and it all felt worth protecting, by all, by any means. <br><br>"Can't take you to my people. Not you, not your team. The people she's with have cared for her for six whole years, you'll have to trust them to do so a little longer. For I won't betray my people." She licked her lips and offered a compromise, one she hated, but the only one she could see he might accept. "I'll stick around, on that mission. I'll send them a message to bring Jasmine out, to a place you determine, at a time you decide. After the mission. When you survive, you'll have your daughter to take home." She waited, let him consider the offer, always making sure to keep far enough from him for her desperate, final plan. Then, once more, she tried to appeal to the loving father that must or should be, somewhere within him.<br><br>"It'd be cruel to her, if you'd see her now. What if you don't come back? It'll destroy her. Even if you just see her and then leave again, without her - she knows how often people don't come back, she's scared every time one of us leaves. You - if you show up and then leave, or die on her, she couldn't deal with that, she's a just a kid, and she's seen far too much of this. You - you're her vision of 'all will be well'. Don't take that from her. Meet her only when you're about to leave with her. For her sake, think about it, please." She had tried hard to sound her usual matter of fact self, but emotions had sneaked into her voice, she hadn't even noticed, but she had sounded pained, pleading, protective. No mistaking that she cared, and how much so, for Jasmine.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 14:43:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Complicated. That's what everything was right now. Really, really complicated.<br><br>There was clearly a strain in the make up of this group right now. Utem and Derrick, though they never really did like each other in the first place, have definitely created a rift. Just to even say that one hates the other is a complete understatement. Their natures, as mercenaries, is one that takes care of himself and they are probably going to get killed by the other's negligence and whoever survives in the end will think that the world is better off for it. Ashleigh just simply couldn't understand how people could still have that sort of selfish mentality despite the problems before them. A whole continent is in ruins, its populace consisting of survivors who go day by day not knowing what to expect while the rest run around mindless not caring what's happening. <br><br>"For fuck's sake..." Ashleigh whispered to herself as she unclipped her helmet. She nearly tossed it but when her rational mind piqued through her frustration, she could only place it on her hip. "If Hackett's going to leave everything to me, then I say everyone has to calm down and think for each other and not for themselves." Her tone wasn't quite angry as much as it was compassionate. "This mission isn't about me. Whether I die or not doesn't matter - it's when. If I manage to collect a certain sample; if I can find out something about this virus and contain it, THAT'S what the US Government wants. So keep everything in perspective.<br><br>"I need to know that I can trust everyone who is here. If ever once Derrick considers leaving, then I'll go as far as personally ruining his day with a bullet." Bluff. Anyone who has lived with Ashleigh for even a week would know that she is a fan of manipulating the mind, warping people's thoughts to her own with words, facts, a particular and fitting turn of phrase. "Utem, if you keep causing trouble with him - I know you might not be trying to - then someone is going to have to budge or we're all dead."<br><br>This wasn't leadership in Ashleigh's mind. She wasn't trying to impose herself or her ideals on anyone. This was her simply talking for the sake of reason. This just simply made sense to her. Anyone could speak up and she would listen to him or her intently. Despite the dark, she looked at Anna, to Utem, then squinted at Derrick and his friend before closing her eyes and sighing. "As soon as he finishes, whether we have a straggler with us or not - and I PLEAD that you all behave - we need to find shelter. Derrick mentioned that he had heard there was an American soldier hiding out in a plane nearby... I don't think it takes all of us to find him and he may even shoot if three or four people walk in on what's been his home for the last while."<br><br>"The lab, as of right now, isn't a priority. We need to find out where to put all of your stuff first and maybe take inventory. If we find a suitable building right off the bat, then we'll be laughing, but for now, being encased between four walls would be a brilliant thing to have." Ashleigh let another sigh escape through her lips, which were now in a little pucker after tiring herself out with her open thinking. If anyone argues with her, it wouldn't be a loss. If anything, she welcomed it. Even if Anna had renounced her say in what's being done here, she was still the most experienced in formal combat and espionage than anyone else here. Her word will always take precedence over Ashleigh's thoughts that are based solely on common sense.<br><br>After spilling out her brain, there was really only one thing that as on the young woman's mind. She poked through all of the pockets and pouches along her waist until she found a small LED flashlight. She held it in reverse, pointing it down so the beam wouldn't flare across the night sky and freak out whoever was watching, be it infected or otherwise. Flicking the switch, she illuminated that damn monocle device that Anna gave her, looking over it to see what made it tick - or at the very least an on button.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 18:03:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick closed his eyes, this woman was really grating his last nerves. Her words did have a ring of truth to them, if Jasmine saw him and he died? It'd be over for her. <strong>"I want to see her before the end of this mission, this mission is going to be long and multi-faceted. Upon reaching our destination, I want her brought there for a visit...You'll come with. That is the deal...you double cross me? It won't end well...let's go."</strong><br><br>Turning his back to her, he made his way back towards the group after picking up his rifle. The displeasure on Derrick's face was clear as day, but what choice did he have? Jasmine was alive, and she wasn't as far as he knew being put through hell. That was good enough for the time being. His eye would dart back to Franka every now and then. Derrick wasn't going allow her to give him the slip. Picking up his comm he spoke into it, <strong>"Ashleigh. The local is going to be joining us for the time being. She knows the area, has dealt with the infected more than any of us have, and she could be instrumental in finding us a working lab...this isn't up for negotiation and she'll be my responsibility."</strong><br><br>Eventually he reached the group once more. Peering around, he walked up to Ashleigh and spoke softly <strong>"I'll see this mission through. I...don't want to see anything happen to you, my daughter for the time being is safe. So...I'm not going to up and abandon you. Make sure you tell Utem and Hackett not to do anything to Franka there...or I will kill them without a moment's hesitation."</strong><br><br>Looking back towards the others, he remarked <strong>"Ok, what is the consensus on the soldier out there? From what I understand he's on the trigger happy side, do we retrieve?"</strong><br><br>Turning his attention back to Ashleigh, he smirked for a moment. Trying to find the words, he felt honesty was the best policy now. <strong>"I suppose...it'd be for the best if you were made aware, I'm former CIA...Special Activities Division. That is why the brass had me accompany you all on this mission. You deserved to know..."</strong><br><br>There were still a few things he was keeping close to the chest, but he was well aware of the consensus formed towards him presently, not that it mattered. Yet for some reason, Ashleigh's opinion? It meant a lot to him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>01-04-2010, 22:22:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I see...then she is in charge." Utem said with a shrug. He was used to changing team leaders, sometimes they died, sometimes the team changed from mission to mission. Yet, he wasn't too sure about her field expertise. "Still, I won't follow orders blindly." He waited for her to continue talking, the short pause must mean she was thinking.<br><br>"The signal might get picked up...if they are searching for it. It is a small handheld device but I guess you are right, it will stay off for now." He stopped a moment to consider the layout she wanted for the building, it was close to what he had in mind. "I doubt we find that kind of buildings out in the open, at least no two close together like that. We might need to get close to the towns...and from what we know that's were the infected gather." He thought he heard something and looked around but it was only the wind on a bush. "C4 sounds like fun...it will draw attention to us, hopefully we can find a safe building for using it without harming the structure." he grinned at her smile, that interest in explosives was curious trait. <br><br>"Regarding that woman...I guess she can provide some helpful intel on the area...." He was interrupted by Ashleigh and then Derrick, he smiled at her, she seemed to show some backbone, a good leadership trait. Before speaking, he noticed her fidgeting with the monocle. "On the other side..." he said before standing up. "You know what is my task in this mission." he turned to the woman. "Except you, I'm Utem, that's all you need to know at the moment." He glanced at Ashleigh and then at Hackett, before looking at Derrick. "As you said, she will be your responsibility, also to make sure she doesn't drag us, we have a schedule to meet. Yet, I won't let someone die on my watch, but the team's safety comes first, and then the safety of those that tag along. Regarding food...we will just have to hunt a bit before I had esteemed." <br><br>He turned to Ashleigh again wondering how she would react to Derrick's statement about the woman. "If you want to get out of here, then let's move, if you plan on camping here, we have a set of motion sensors to set a perimeter." He shook his head at the thought of Derrick being a former CIA, bringing someone so selfless and with his own agenda on such mission was a good way of making it prone to failure. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>02-04-2010, 10:24:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That seemed the best she could get, and sure was better than to gut herself in the woods to protect her people's whereabouts from that man. She didn't like the thought of sticking around these intruders, but who could tell what the mission would lead to, or what it was about. She wanted to know, they needed to know, whatever went on in the outside world that had so conveniently forgotten them for six years, now it was back, which could only mean they feared a new outbreak, and thought - 'hey, lets see if people survived in Europe, if they're immune, we'll use them as guinea pigs to protect us form ending up in the same horror we let them drown in'. <br><br>She had followed Derrick noiselessly, slowly, not coming close to the team, clustering too near each other in the darkness didn't seem a good idea to her. When Utem told her his name, she nodded. "Franka." The fair haired woman was Ashleigh, then, and the other? Time would tell. Hopefully, they weren't all as bad as psycho dad. Her instinct made her wary, she wanted to leave them, but had to stay around, so, she now wanted to get them to move, or at least prepare for what might come any moment. "Any of you immune?" The routine question, compulsion of every survivor, the first they wanted to know, the core of every defence strategy. "If not, you can't risk getting a bite or scratch, or any blood of them on you, a tiny drop in the eye or mouth, a wound, and you're infected." <br><br>She paused, listened into the woods, shifted uneasily. Something felt wrong. "That means you must take them out from afar, prolly make a racket. Afterwards, move away from where the noise was. Even if there are just a few, it still can get pretty bad to run into them or from them, in the dark. No bare skin, find extra protection for your necks, hands, arms. They'll come straight at you, go for the neck or grab you to get there. They grab, claw and bite rather than strike, they never kick. Use their speed against them while you can, avoid contact, they're terribly strong, don't let them get a grip on you. They're lousy climbers, can't swim, and if you jump over a long enough distance, chances are they'll try to follow and won't make it. But as long as they rage, see you you, hear you, or look for you, they'll keep going."<br><br>"I'm immune, but maybe a carrier, you must avoid contact with my blood. Now, you can't stay here, there's been too much noise. There are infected nearby, they could show up anytime. If you can kill them silently, do it. If they're screaming, too many, or get too close? Fire away, kill them, then fly as fast and far as you can, but take care you don't sprain an ankle or something. Don't hesitate, panic, or use light. Once you're clear of them, stay put, be silent, wait for sunrise. Don't try anything else while it's dark. And you'd best decide where you'll meet in case you get separated on the run. Be quick about it, I don't think you've got much time." Trying to get herself and as many as possible to survive an attack of infected was too much of a habit for Franka to not act upon it, as long as that particular danger was acute, no quarrel mattered, only one enemy existed: Stinkers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>02-04-2010, 22:15:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett was trying, really trying, to figure out when things had gone so haywire to the point where they currently stood. They were taking on an unknown with no direct and obvious contribution to the mission; she might know the Infected and the landscape, but most of them had fought Infected before and Hackett was an expert in terrain navigation, plus she could be a hostile. Understandably, Hackett visibly tensed as Derrick brought her over to the group, her glares at him going unnoticed through the night vision goggles on her head. Even so, the mission was at hand and it seemed there was nothing to be said or done any further. Hackett glanced at the new woman and slowly shook her head, kneeling down and producing a map out of her frontal vest. "<strong>Okay...</strong>" She pointed to the map with a few circles on it, moving her finger around in a circle near a particularly larger marked circle. "<strong>This is us, and a few miles away is the town of Bonn. This is likely to be our main target in the long run, but for now and until we can determine enemy strength around the town, we will move towards Vinxel, approximately 5 kilometers west of Bonn and only a kilometer south of us now. Its a much smaller rural sector and we already have a spot to go, a small home on the Northern edge of town with a second story access and a basement.</strong>" Hackett pointed to it on the map, pointing off in the distance to the south of them, or about there.<br><br>Hackett had picked the building before they left Hawaii, and hopefully it still stood and was not already occupied, but that could easily be fixed. The structure itself however, was something to be prayed for, if one were a praying sort. Hackett had only 3 backups, though she knew little of the fighting if any that had taken place here, she hoped it hadn't gotten to intense. The building was moderately familiar to her, though what they'd find inside, if they went, was up for grabs. The stray chipped in her thoughts, and Hackett only stared at the ground in silence as she spoke. If nothing else she was right, though it was likely the three heavily armed members of the group were all well aware of the Infected and their subtle or not so subtle tactics. "<strong>She's right, avoid them at all costs, use firearms if you can but keep them suppressed. Ashleigh, I have a sidearm you can use instead of what you already have, its silenced, so even dogs wouldn't hear it beyond 25 feet, if that even. Our number one concern right now is getting into Bonn, all else can be avoided. As for our friend in the plane... if he is trigger happy and using an unsuppressed weapon I don't want him around us, but I have a few extras if he has a compatible barrel system.</strong>" Hackett whispered, more to herself than anyone else, just getting that few scraps of information to stick with everything that was swimming about was noted hard, if difficult only because she didn't want to have any more delays or add more weight to the current team. Four was a prefered number, you had all sectors; left, right, center and rear covered. It also allowed for compact and manouverable units and most importantly, you could split into 2-man teams, covering more ground while not being all alone. Five made it difficult, and two were civilians, adding another would make it better if he were military trained, though from the descriptions she'd heard it sounded more like he was losing his marbles. Then again, she didn't trust this 'Franka' about luring them towards a plane.<br><br>As Hackett packed up her map and stood, she snapped her head around as the IR beacon suddenly went dark. Her night vision brightened slightly, the high powered light from the beacon no longer washing out the night vision. She raised her weapon and waved her hand slowly down. "<strong>Everyone down...</strong>" she whispered, stepping over the upgrown root she'd been sitting on and leaning against a tree, squinting would do nothing but the grainy view from her night vision made seeing anything impossible. The beacon remained off for a few seconds, until it came back on again. Hackett blinked and looked slightly away as her night vision shut off. Silently, she flipped them back on and glanced back towards the beacon and seeing something moving in front of it, blocking out the light every few moments and then nothing. For a moment she wanted to blame her anger and overall confusion about what had happened since they jumped, but really she knew that was wrong too. "<strong>Contact, west, 300 meters. Unknown.</strong>" Hackett whispered over comms.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>03-04-2010, 00:51:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In the darkness, it was impossible for Franka to see Hacket's expression, she thought she saw her shake her head, but to read a map was entirely impossible with so little light and the distance Franka kept to the group. She eventually figured out the name behind Hacket's pronunciation, and found she knew the village, even the building. Who did she mean by enemies, Franka wondered, people like herself, or infected? But if they wanted to get into Bonn... "How will you cross the Rhine? The bridges are gone, they blew them up when the second safe zone fell." She bit her lip, cursing herself for bringing something up that might only distract them from getting away from here, and hoped they'd just stay focussed. <br><br>She kept trying to pick up sounds, raised her head, studied the sky, calculating how long it was till the first faint light would make everything easier, safer. Remembering Jake, she offered what information she had gathered from the corpses, from him, in a hesitant, almost reluctant tone, she didn't want to present him wrong either way, but she felt uneasy about him, which showed. "Jake.. I don't know... A few more survived the crash, and now he's the only one. I saw Blackwater and U.S. Marine uniforms. A few got infected, but - well, I'm not sure that's what killed all of them. I think he's Blackwater. He seems - ah - really calm, bored, sits on the plane's roof in a seat, plays games, drinks beer, smokes..."&nbsp; She left it to them to decide whether they wanted him around or not. <br><br>When talk turned towards their splendid weapons, Franka's hand brushed over her pocket, her slingshot, the familiar leather, the rounded stones. For a moment, she wondered how it must feel to be able to pierce the darkness, kill so easily. She felt almost like a caricature of a medieval peasant with a fistful of stones, telling heroes from the future how to survive. But all in all, it made her feel better, if they knew what they did, she could just come along, with no need to watch out for them all the time, teach them, remind them ten times to not do this or that. She had escorted worse groups, then, that much was sure. Hacket's whisper interrupted her thoughts, and she melted into the darkness, crouching low, nostrils wide to catch a scent, listening intently.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>06-04-2010, 07:25:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				What little light that was cast around Ashleigh vanished as soon as she deemed it so. Replacing it back in the pocket from which it came, the scientist strapped the device it was helping her analyze onto her head. With a turn of a knob, the intensity of green went from a dull and dark to a bright shade that brought everything into light. Well, sort of. It only helped make the silhouettes in front of her clearer. Some of the members somehow found the time to change, but Ashleigh's whole attention was focused on only one thing: Franka.<br><br>By sight, she looked just like someone would if they had been living off of the wasteland for a good part of her adult life. She wasn't terribly scarred or anything like that, but her features could do well with a little washing. Listening to her speak, it was almost off putting that she spoke in such short statements. One thing led to the next which led to the next. Fact after fact after fact. Ashleigh didn't want to pass judgment so quickly as having the four of them drop out of the sky was likely to be a culture shock more than anything. <br><br>Merely listening to everyone else, she was pleased that they were about to get themselves out of the middle of this field. That same amount of listening brought her to a knee, however, as Hackett's instructions only confirmed Ashleigh's own fears. The scientist only hoped that their first encounter with these monsters would wait at least a few days. <br><br>Wanting to see and talk to Franka in hopes of seeing just exactly who she is and what she can offer this assignment, Ashleigh drew her pistol from its holster. Firing it seemed like more of a liability than an asset, as Hackett insisted, bu if push comes to shove, something is going to get a bullet in its face for rushing at her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>06-04-2010, 17:47:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I believe none of us is inmune, that's why I am so heavily padded." Utem said considering his clothing, most of the wait of his clothes was from the reinforcing plates and fabric that covered up to his wrists and ankles. It was nota catsuit but many pieces instead, disgned to interlock as one piece, and most important, to be lightweight. It was thicker on the chest and back, to protect him from bullets. It also had a neckpiece, somewhat uncomfortable, but from what Franka was saying, necessary.<br><br>Utem looked at the map as Hackett described their destination. It was close by, it wouldn't take more than thirty minutes to reach Vinxel. What she said about the firearms was also true, he had suppresors for all of his weapons so he didn't worried much about it. <br><br>The lack of a bridge would be a problem, but nothing that couldn't be solved with some creative thinking, or a dip in the water. He hear Franka's brief description of Jake, perhaps to brief, most likely she had just met him recently. <br><br>When Hackett looked up,he did so to, noticing the change in the beacon. He silently moved to the ground, taking out one of his guns and the scope from his rifle, which he carried in one of his front pockets. His gun was already silencedd, so he attached the scope to it and looked through it, hoping to catch some movement and to see what was getting closer to them, or at least have an idea of it's size and speed. "I can't see it on the scope..." Utem whispered over his comm.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>10-04-2010, 20:37:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jake stood a the edge of the plane still, looking down at the bodies of the two dead infected he had just shot. He then turned back to face Franka and suggest that they head inside, but then she said that she was going to be leaving. Jake was just about to say something when he watched her slip off the airplane and back into the cover of the trees. He raised an eye brow, then shrugged. Of course, she probably thought he was some sort of fool, firing his gun without the suppressor on. But he hadn't gotten time to tell her just exactly what he had been doing. She had left too fast for him to explain that he was testing something he'd come up with after about a month into being stuck at the crash site. He would stand on top of the airplane, then fire several rounds from his unsuppressed weapon. He would then keep a close look out to see just how long it would take the infected to be attracted to the site of where the noise came from, and from which direction they primarily came from. The infected had almost always come from the north-west, through the trees, to get to the crash site. And a lot of times, the infected had come in large groups. Jake had recorded that it had taken anywhere from 20-30 minutes for them to arrive at the site of the noise. So if, and when Jake decided to leave the plane, he definitely wouldn't head north west. Unless of course he had a death wish. If he were to travel north west, he would undoubtedly run into a large horde of infected, and then find himself running back in the direction of the crash site. Not exactly something he really wanted to do. The further he was from the infected, the better off he was.<br><br>As it started to get a little darker, Jake decided it would be best to head back inside, since the infected seemed to be much more active at night. He was just about to climb into the cockpit, when he looked up to see several forms falling from the sky. He raised an eye brow, then aimed his gun upwards to look through the scope, making sure to flip on the night vision attachment, it looked to be parachuters! He continued to watch them until they disappeared into the forest. Surely they had seen the crash site, and were probably going to come looking for it. But Jake had another idea. He wasn't just about to wait around for someone to show up. Hell with that. he made his way back into the airplane, then down to the main floor. He was going to go find them himself, even if it was dark outside. <br><br>After looking around the plane for a moment, he started to pack his things. He got his backpack, then made sure to throw in a good amount of ammunition for his M4, as well as his glock pistol. After packing water, and food, and several other various supplies - attachments for his primary weapon, etc, he slung his back over his shoulders, then made sure to reattach the suppressor to his weapon. Dress wise, he was already good, having changed into a green and brown camouflage suit. He then found the night vision attachment for his helmet, then slipped in over is head and onto the helemt he'd already put on. Now he was ready. He climbed back up the stairs, then out the cockpit and onto the ground, looking around for a moment before he started on. He wanted to get to where ever he needed as quick as he could. When he was about a 25 yards from the airplane, he saw what looked to be an LED flash. Now he knew exactly where he needed to go. he started up at a quick jog pace, going as quickly as he could through the trees and brush, while trying not to make too much noise. Every once and a while he would stop to rest for a moment, then continue onwards. <br><br>When he was roughly a kilometer away, he stopped for a moment as he heard noise. Talking. He peeked through the trees and saw several people, including the woman he'd talked to earlier, Franka. He shrugged, then pulled his night vision up, and pushed his way through the brush. "Hope you guys don't mind another...."<br><br>(Dressed much like: This (http://biblioklept.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/28-wks-2.jpg) with a matching military helmet and night vision attachment)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>12-04-2010, 02:17:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka turned, she could not recognise him, not in his dark, but his voice was all she needed to tell it was Jake. "That's Jake, the guy from the plane." She whispered, and moved towards him, still ducked close to the ground, and as noiselessly as possible. When she had reached Jake, she whispered, her voice lower even than the wind, close enough to him that the wind would nonetheless carry her words to his ear. "Hey, Jake. Get down, be very quiet, we think there's infected coming. Those folks are on some mission, Americans, I guess if you can convince them to take you along, you might have found yourself a ticket home. The one with the deep voice is Derrick, the other chap Utem, the blond woman&nbsp; Ashleigh." <br><br>She shrugged, still not sure what the soldier woman's name might be. She took a closer look, now that it was possible, at Jake's gun, and noticed it had a silencer on now. "Hey, I see you've settled for discretion? Made enough noise for one day?" She joked. Yes, she was actually grinning. She preferred a lighter tone, a relaxed atmosphere, when things got straining to the nerves. It usually helped during the endless seeming minutes of waiting. Besides, she really wanted, needed to know why he had not used the silencer earlier in the day. Was he a noise liability, or did he have a good reason for taking out infected with a 'bang'?<br><br>She hoped for the latter, but her experience with eager shooters had all ended in disasters, which was why she had turned her back on Jake double quick, and was this very uncomfortable in the company of now five heavily armed people. Americans, one and all. Friendly fire - wasn't that what they had been famous for as early as WW II and ever since? What was that saying Grandpa Grady had always quoted? 'When the Germans shoot, the British duck. When the British shoot, the Germans duck. When the Americans shoot, everybody ducks.' Yup... Hell, and as a practically unarmed civilian - no, stop, a hostile, most likely, in their eyes, she'd prolly be safest if she spent the next weeks flat on her belly, praying. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>12-04-2010, 06:51:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick hadn't bothered getting down, if there were infected truly incoming? Stealth wouldn't much play into the equation. However his hand was kept firmly on his sidearm. He was more concerned about the soldier who'd made his presence known. If push came to shove? He'd drop the man in the blink of a hat. However when he actively exposed himself to them, Derrick sighed gently. <br><br>It seemed the man was overly trusting to a degree, the opposite of Franka. For all he knew they could have been cannibals who ambushed a group of soldiers and had access to their equipment. Though he could make him out fully with his goggles. The attire was definitely American, the man's voice was also pure Americana. <br><br>Derrick glanced around for a second and crouched. <strong>"If there are infected heading in this direction, I'd advise you switch to silent options in terms of defense if possible. A forest is not a good place to get locked into a fight, especially when we don't know how many there are. They tend to have pretty good hearing."</strong> Crossing over towards Franka, he whispered <strong>"What is the best way out of these woods?"</strong> Every odd moment or so, his gaze would go outwards. Keeping fully aware of his surroundings. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>12-04-2010, 17:52:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem unclipped the strap of the other gun's holster while looking back from the one already in his hand, fixed in the direction of the movement. Hearing Franka's words, he merely raised his hands, the first three fingers idly extended as a gfretting when his name was mentioned. He returned his eye to the scope on his gun, both eyes open searching for movement both with the scope and his naked eye. <br><br>He didn't minded the man as long as he wasn't a potential threat. If he proved to be a drag, perhaps he would make suitable cannon fodder. He still paid attention to the conversation going on behind him, it was information he also needed to know, regardless of the current events. Hi thoughts drifte to Franka for a second, Derrick had some issues to solve with her and carrying someone around wasn't in the best interest of the mission, still she had some knowledge, and perhaps might prove useful. He chuckled lowly, he had thought of Derrick stuck inside a cannon with a fuse lit, a suitable cannon fodder, and a common cartoon joke. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>12-04-2010, 22:43:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anna concerned herself with trying to see that extra few meters in her night vision, the constant flickering created by movement from the strobe made it impossible to stare long, and the slight headache tickling the back of Anna's neck was proof. She shook her head clean and crouched down, turning suddenly as a man spoke from behind them. She nearly raised her weapon when Franka piped up, and quickly stopped, eyeing him cautiously. She knew immediately he wasn't a Marine, and put her finger up to her lips. "<strong>Shut the hell up!</strong>" She hissed in a barely audiable whisper, crouching down again and regarding the map on her lap, this time for a second before looking thoughtfully back towards the IR strobe which had just gone out again. She glared up at the newcomer and then they stray, frowning harshly but mostly towards Derrick. Even if they proved useful, they were a security risk and she wouldn't risk their opinions going against her mission. A plan was forming in her head, fight or flight was a usual problem in her line of work and flight was always the better option, sometimes unavailable. Such as now.<br><br>Running away would only attract attention, and Hackett had guessed that either a large group was just to their North or a small group moving in a circle, either way they were likely out numbered and not in a prime defensive postion. It was defenable to a point, thick trees coupled with some downed trees created a natural obstacle that would slow the Infected from going at the group in a full sprint, and Hackett worked best under pressure. But standing and fighting when it wasn't the only available option was unwise, especially with the mission at risk. She glanced at Utem and cupped her hand over her mouth and mic. "<strong>Utem you take point, lead them towards the town a full kilometer to our South, I'm going to stay back on your tail about 200 meters to protect your rear. Wait for me at the river, if I don't show in an hour go without me.</strong>" She spoke in a quiet whisper through her mic, waving her hand towards the South and glancing at Ashleigh, handing her a USP .45 with a long, slender black suppressor on it. "<strong>Its suppressed, makes almost no noise, its just like your other weapon there only much quieter. Good luck.</strong>" Hackett pressed her back into a tree and glanced back towards the IR beacon as it went out and on again, and again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>13-04-2010, 07:57:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The constant flickering of the strobe was unsetting. The uncertainity of what was causing the light to flicker like that was bothering him. Was it a bunch of infected attracted by the light? Or maybe just animals, or another harmless critter? The strobe filled up the night vision and the flickering was brief so he couldn't make out the shapes of whatever was in front of it. <br><br>Utem rose silently to Hackett's words, she could say Ashleigh was in charge, but it was most likely she would be the one giving orders. He cupped his mic with his hand, still keeping an eye in the direction the strobe was in, while he tried to pick any sound around them. "Ok, you heard her, we will move at a steady pace, not too fast to avoid attracting atention or making too much noise. Ashleigh behind me, Derrick behind her, followed by Franka and Joe." he moved closer to them so they could hear him since they weren't wearing headsets. He moved to where the gear was and brought them swiftly but silently, before taking both of his, he hadn't had time to arrange them into only one.<br><br>"Ok, lets go." He said taking out his other gun, already suppresed, and began walking South, using a compass mounted on his sleeve to guide him. He hoped that they were able to follow and keep a lookout for anything around them, he would move at an steady pace since he was carrying a bag on chest, but since it was a kilometer he would still try to keep a decent speed. His eyes moved between the front and the floor, avoiding branches and other obstacles that could give their position away.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>13-04-2010, 16:49:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh was having a hard time figuring out how to be useful in this situation. She really wasn't good for much except for being the 'civilian' perspective, as well as any input on anything scientific. Here she could do no more than to wait for instructions and hopefully pull them off without much of a hitch. <br><br>The one thing she knew not to do was to make a whole lot of noise. Though Franka seemed to be rather paranoid on first impression, she didn't seem too worried about causing a ruckus and made her way over to what looked like another newcomer. In the night vision, it soon became clear that this was the Plane Hermit that the group was deciding what to do with. If Franka was cool with him and he wasn't so inclined to raise his weapon and shoot at them, he was cool with the scientist.<br><br>In classical military precision, Hackett handed another weapon to Ashleigh and whispered out instructions to the group. The jargon didn't make a whole lot of sense, but she figured that the elder of the two was just describing the firearm and its capabilities. Carefully putting her issue pistol away, Ashleigh wordlessly followed Utem south.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>15-04-2010, 03:19:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jake didn't move for a moment as he saw Franka move over towards him. He then let his eyes dart around the group for a moment, trying to determine who they were. He figured they were probably American's after hearing the voice of one of the men, and then the woman, even before Franka told him they were American's.&nbsp; Jake then ducked down a little so that he was level with Franka. It sure wouldn't surprise him if their were infected around here. he then let his eyes move to each of the team other people, first the man with the deep voice, then the other man, then the blond woman. Jake let his eyes settle on her for a moment longer than the others, and by the looks of it, she definitely wasn't military. "What's she doing here? She's not military.." he whispered to Franka and he nodded in Ashleigh's direction.<br><br>Jake glanced down at his weapon for a moment, then back to Franka. "Yeah..well, I was testing something back there, but you left in too much of a hurry, I couldn't explain what I was doing," he whispered, shrugging his shoulders. He paused for a moment and then look another glance over in Ashleigh's direction. Sure it was dark, but he could tell she was definitely attractive. And hell, he hadn't seen a woman, much less an attractive one, in over six months. he then leth is gaze go back to Franka, and figured he should probably tell her what all he had been doing firing his weapon without a silencer.<br><br>"The infected...it takes them about 20 minutes to a half hour for them to respond to a loud noise from the crash site," he whispered. "Sometimes only a few will come, but most times a large group will show up. They always seem to come from the (direction to be decided)," he replied, nodding his head. "I've been testing that for the last three months, and the only thing that's changed is the amount of infected that show up. They always come from the same direction, and arrive in about the same time frame," he whispered, finishing telling Franka about what he had been doing while firing is weapon unsuppressed. When she had left the crash site earlier, she had probably thought he was a complete fool for firing an unsuppressed weapon when there were infected around. But now she knew why he'd done it, and hopefully didn;t think he was much of a fool any more.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>16-04-2010, 05:01:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka prepared to follow the instructions, wondering how she should keep up with them when they all had night vision, but at the same time, she suddenly had images of this old bore of a film in her mind, images of greenish flickering and hectic impressions of trees and branches emerging from the dark, and thought it might not be that much better in comparison, for, at least, she knew the terrain. She ignored Derick's question, as they had been given instructions and Utem was the one who would lead the way, not her, but Jake's question amused her, despite the tension, the threat that lay in the air. "Don't know. You'll have to ask her yourself." <br><br>His comment made her grin, both with relief and about herself. Yes, she had fled him with all the paranoid apprehension similar situations had left her with, and in retrospect, it had been utterly unnecessary to worry. "That was the loudest noise I've heard in years, I thought you might be nuts." She whispered back. She became earnest when she heard what he had found out. "Shite, they really should know." Twenty minutes, thirty, to show up after hearing noises? She thought of the plain, of Derrick punching a tree, of the light's flashing. The place might swarm with infected within five minutes. <br><br>She left her place in their beeline, past Derrick and Asleigh, until she caught up with Utem. She made as little, if not less noise than the others, thanks to the advantage of her familiarity with the terrain she had scouted thoroughly during the day and crossed once already this night, and of the fact she was small and slim, was lighter and less hindered in her movements as she had no heavy, large equipment or weapons to carry. "Utem!" She whispered. "Listen, Jake tested something with his shooting this afternoon, he's been done that for months, says infected always show up twenty to thirty minutes after hearing noises, always from north-west, and usually in large numbers. If they heard the plane, you guys landing in the trees and such, they'll be here in five minutes, maybe less."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>16-04-2010, 05:12:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The hairs on the back of Derrick's neck stood up. He wasn't quite sure, but in the distance? There seemed to be a slight disturbance. He wasn't one to ignore it, so he kept his rifle in hand. As for orders? He didn't play soldier, not anymore. Derrick walked where and how he saw fit. Though the feeling in the pit of his stomach was getting worst. So far the mission had gone too smoothly, he was aware that the infected's hearing was typically superior to that of normal people. With their limited brain functions they were focused less on day to day struggles, all that registered was violence and the potential to act out on it.<br><br>His voice came out softly, but deliberately <strong>"I shouldn't have to say it but.....If anyone winds up getting infected? Put them down immediately."</strong> Derrick usually would walk with the knife out, so he wouldn't make unneccesary noise. The infected though? Not exactly subtle. If they found the group, they'd be loud about it and that'd cause a domino effect. He'd seen armed groups decimated because of the oversight. Staying and fighting wasn't in the group's best interest.<br><br>Looking out into the forest for a second, he narrowed his eyes as he peered through the goggles. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>16-04-2010, 07:03:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem moved through the darkness with a practiced ease, the field of sight the night vision gave him cutting through the darkness. He moved aside branches and others that could reveal their presence, slowing down just enough to do so. His gaze moving around incessantly, checking every movement and sound, every tree and shadow for possible threats.<br><br>"It seems you know the terrain..." he offered after she finished speaking, the formation was for the safety of those with less experience but the blatant disregard of it by both of them bugged him. He decided it was best to ignore it, for now. "Then moving out was the best call, we are heading south, so we might have a couple more minutes, but considering the beacon...Let's try to move faster." He whispered over the com, trying to to keep it low but loud enough for Franka to hear. "I need your call on this, would it be safer to head for the airplane and wait there until&nbsp; there's light or we keep moving? Which is closer?"<br><br>His thoughts were interrupted by Derrick's comment. "We have antiviral vaccines with us, enough to last for a while, but if we don't have to use them it is better." Utem answered over the comm. They had a few shots, and in a week they would receive more. He kept on moving, waiting for a reply on the idea of going to the airplane.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>19-04-2010, 21:48:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Sorry. You had to know..." She whispered. Obviously, she had weighed the possible dangers of her breaking the formation against those of their not all being warned in time and had settled for speed as the more important factor. She thought about his question as quickly as she moved, calculating rapidly, deciding within seconds. "Not the plane. We'd not make it in time, we'd have to head back, cross the fields, they're full of holes and bits of metal, bones, glass, stuff you can't see because of the hay, it's too risky. There's a path to our left, leading south, we'd best get onto it. If we need to run, it's our best option, trees and undergrowth slow us down more than them." <br><br>She thought again, her face creased in a frown, then added. "There's a group of rocks down the path, almost a circle, if we need to, we can make a stand there, keep Ashleigh safe in the middle, kill all that come at us, and then we run for it again, as fast as we can, staying on the path. It's quite a decent hare chase route. Ah - that's what we call a run - hide and rest - run again sort of way." She had apparently also accepted what she had picked up through the team's interactions, that Ashleigh was the weakest member of the group, and the one to be protected by all means. Matching the group's tempo, Franka moved along, hoping they'd reach the path soon, and listening intently again, even sniffing the cold night air. <br><br>She would almost have added a few more minutes to the time she had calculated they'd have left till the first infected would appear. But then, much closer than Franka would have wished, bad luck struck twice. A brown owl and an eagle owl flapped their wings, shrieking, fighting. The noise of the eagle owl's failed attack carried far, over the fields, and were soon after drowned in a human cry of rage, followed by a long howl, as the infected headed towards the birds. There was a flutter of wings and more shrieks, as both the unfortunate hunter and its lucky prey separated and fled. Already, the infected's voice, roaring and howling, was answered by similar cries. They seemed to push each other towards a more frenzied rage with every cry they uttered or heard, and they were, no doubt, heading towards the team. "The path, run, no sound!" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>21-04-2010, 19:43:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett crouched down against the tree in front of her and flipped the safety off on her HK416, resting her elbow on a low branch and half sitting on an exposed root jutting sharply up out of the ground. Her eyes were fixed towards the IR beacon, flickering on and off in the distance and casting awkward looking shadows down towards her, even though her night vision washed out before she could see them in detail... she knew what they were. It was prehaps a good thing that the others were already gone, and not seeing what she was now, because it gave her chills. Either a small group of the Infected were circling the beacon, or an absolutely massive group was moving through the open area. She couldn't begin to count the numbers, but well above a hundred or possibly more. Anna really thought it through, and did not want to know. Maybe it might help, but more likely it would only create stress and panic in her mind trying to figure something out. Absentmindedly, she played with the pin on one of her M67 fragmentation grenades hanging from her chest. She also had flashbangs and smoke grenades, which would be useful for drawing away the Infected once they were onto the group. They responded to sound, so it had been confirmed by the unknown from the plane and the other woman, for now Hackett would called her subject #1. She was less and less a stray and more and more a problem to deal with. Anna mused with the idea of ...dealing with both her and Derrick at the same time in a quick fashion. The idea was a bit hard to swallow; she was a civilian and only a few years ago it had been Anna's goal to help as many people like her as possible. But the locals were problems, because unless they could get a ride out for them and how many dozens or hundreds of other suvivors they knew, then knowing those savages they'd likely feed the entire group to the Infected and steal the gear. <br><br>Hackett licked her lips and stared down at the ground. She looked around, then up into the sky and listened. It was so quiet, it was nearly unbearable. She could no longer hear the others, which was a good sign. She felt uneasy about sending Ashleigh off but trusted Utem to do his job well enough. She did not trust Derrick, and did not trust the other two at all, which made her a little nervous. She had her comms on, just in case, but had muted her mic so they didn't have to listen to her constant breathing. A small breeze began to develop, even this deep in a heavily wooded area, and it felt nice against her skin, what little was exposed. Really, the only thing she could even hear was the wind, her own heart beating and the occasional crackle of the radios doing their thing. She felt a little bit tired, to be honest, things were not going as planned but Anna knew she wasn't really tired, just stressed. <br><br>And her stress got much worse with the howl. At first she only sat up and raised her weapon, thinking she'd heard a backfire or something on the radio. Then a deep, enormous howl seemed to originate from everywhere beyond her sight, and then it got louder and louder and more intense and more howling joined the fray. Hackett stood up and pressed her back into the tree, her head swinging around frantically as she tried to see them coming. She could hear leaves and twigs crunching and snapping in rapid succession as the sounds of loud, uncaring footsteps pattered all about her. She flipped on her IR designator and scanned it about with her rifle, slowing her movements down to a slow twist, she could see bodies moving rapidly through the trees, rotten as they were, stumbling over roots and practically flying straight into trees. Several passed so close Hackett could smell them. Her breathing intensified as she fought to come up with a plan.<br><br>As the Infected poured past her, Anna peeked around her tree and immediately saw movement, she raised and began firing her weapon on automatic into the chest of an approaching Infected, she let the recoil take her rounds up and put the abomination down quietly, it never even let out a howl of fury. Anna recoiled back behind the tree and fired again at another approaching Infected, this time scoring a headshot immediately, the Infected lurched forward and slowed to a tumble down to the ground. The others seemed completely unaware as they hurried off towards the noise, and more continued to come. Anna put her HK416 back to semiautomatic and crouched down, slowly stepping over a downed tree and zig zagging through the mess of branches and twigs, moving as quietly as she could. <br><br>"<strong>You've got heavy contact coming on your six, run!</strong>" <br><br>Hackett spoke into her mic and not in her indoor voice as she unhooked a flashbang grenade from her grenade webbing and threw it as hard as she could to her North, watching as she could just barely make it out sailing between the trees. She covered her ears up and kept moving in a crouch. The flashbang went off in a loud bang that would be heard for miles around and a flash of light that managed to flicker her night vision, even though she was several dozen meters away and looking in the opposite direction. Her ears thumped and mostly everyhthing went quiet as they rang out in discontent and anger. Anna picked up her pace and stood slightly, she could see the Infected ahead, and slowed as they pulled one hell of a U-Turn, at least some did, and went off towards the small fire and puff of smoke still remaining from the device. As Hackett moved about, a mean sounding growl made her heart jump as an Infected tackled onto Hackett. Her training kicked in immediately a she dropped her rifle to her chest and drew out a long, menacing looking black combat knife and ducked down as the Infected grapled her. Using its momentum and height, Hackett pushed herself foward with one leg and lifted her crouched body up rapidly as the Infected grabbed onto her and tried to bit at her helmet. She picked the Infected's legs up and tossed it over her back, spinning back and jabbing her knife into the side of its head and yanking it out almost instantly. Anna recoiled and leapt back as another Infected flew by her, reaching its arms out to grab her as she nimbly sidestepped it. Her heard pounded vicious in her chest, not used to this kind of physical activity while carrying her body weight in extra on her back. With her padded elbow Hackett lashed out, knocking the Infected back as a third ran towards her. She ducked again and this time, shoulder checked the Infected in the chest, sending it toppling down to the ground and rolling backwards. Her shoulder immediately hurt from the impact, but luckily it was not her knife wielding arm. The Infected still standing had been knocked against a tree and Hackett tended to it with a jab to the back of the upper neck, just below the brain stem and twisted her knife, kicking the twice dead corpse out of her way and turning to deal with the final one. It was just standing as she rushed it, and kicked it back to the ground, this time on its stomach. She wasted no time and killed the final one the same way she'd dealt with the last. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>27-04-2010, 06:04:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Sounds like a plan to me, let's go if we reach there fast, we might be able to get in a suitable defensive position." said Utem with a nod. "Let's get moving everyone, careful with twigs and branches." He called on the comm to the rest, hoping it reached Jake's ears, if he kept on moving them aside it would slow them down and it was better to move faster. <br><br>Utem looked up when he heard the first owl, his mouth pursing in a frown. "Shut up..." he though hoping that..."Fuck" He muttered hearing the second one, both seemed to be locked in fight. "Forget the branches get moving!" He called, not caring to whisper as he increased the pace. Another curse went thourgh his mind as he heard Hackett on the radio. "Don't get yourself killed." The only answer he could think off, it brought memories, not quite fond ones. <br><br>He reached into his bag to pull out a gun, 9mm, suppresed, it didn't had much firepower but it should work. Trusting Franka was close he glanced over his shoulder at her, handing her the gun. "I saw your machete, I would rather those things don't get a chance to get close." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>27-04-2010, 18:19:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick casually stated in a loud voice <strong>"Hate to say I told you so!"</strong> Before he shouldered his rifle and turned around slowly. He moved closer to Ashleigh and made sure the scientist was safely behind him. Speaking back over his shoulder <strong>"The head or the heart, fastest way to take them down. We don't want to get trapped out of here, so keep moving."</strong> To the other two soldiers, he spoke <strong>"Brain Donors, we want to keep on the move. I'm going to follow Hackett, you lot? Get out of here. Either of the two women get hurt? We'll have words."</strong> <br><br>Without another word, he quickly took off after Hackett. Moving at a much faster speed than a man his build should be able to. Moving through the forest, he could hear the infected all around him. There were definitely a lot of them. Ducking as he heard rustling behind him, Derrick twisted around and used his left hand to grasp his Ka-bar and easily cut an infected's throat open deeply enough to drop it instantly before he continued on his stride. Hearing the flashbang, he realized exactly what Hackett was doing. Trying to draw them away. It was a sound plan, he decided to aid her in this task. Pulling a flashbang out, Derrick activated and chucked it out into the woods. Shielding his eyes for a moment as it flew a good distance from him and went off. A good deal of them had taken the bait, though one stray seemed to be heading for Hackett. Against his better judgement, Derrick leapt out from the small ridge he was on and tackled it to the ground. Driving the knife into it's eye socket until he felt the back of it's skull and twisted the blade. Quickly getting to his feet he looked down at Hackett, <strong>"You make a lot of noise."</strong> He muttered sarcastically. <strong>"They're taking off like a bat out of hell. So if you want to make a shit load of noise to keep these fucks away from them? I'm game, or you can just shoot me in the back of the head."</strong> The last bit was stated with a grin, Derrick was an expert at human psychology. Someone with Hackett's training and mentality? Wouldn't take kindly to his disregard for procedure, or his behavior. He thought something was wrong with her, if she wasn't considering killing him off. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>29-04-2010, 07:28:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She flew into action the second her proposition was accepted. Meanwhile, she listened, to identify the position and numbers of the infected, estimate where they were heading. The screaming stinkers raced towards the sound of the owl fight, not finding anything to attack, they spread, slowing down. Then, she heard them pick up speed again, close to the female soldier. She must have been spotted, attacked. She forbid herself to think about it. "Thanks!" She whispered, as she took the gun Utem had offered, while running towards the path. <br><br>When Derrick, once again all words and disobedience, both of the female soldier's and Utem's direct orders, headed back, she wondered about his priorities. He clearly had been the opposite of a team player from the beginning. Now, he left the one person the team needed to protect most, who he himself had seemed concerned about, with one less experienced soldier to defend her, in order to chase back to the soldier everybody else trusted to know exactly what she was doing, to give orders, to decide how things should be done. <br><br>Feeling gravel under her feet, she knew they were on the path. She had looked out for Ashleigh as best she could, making sure she could keep up, did not panic. She had accepted the team's idea that this woman was their weakest link and must be protected by all means, and acted accordingly. The path was almost free of deep holes, brambles and creepers, it was easy to follow, allowed them to speed up, and lead straight to the circle of rocks that would offer protection if they needed to make a stand. On the path, Franka resisted running as fast as she could, never going faster than she felt sure Ashleigh could keep up with. <br><br>The relative silence close to them did not last, as she had known it could not. A stray stinker crashed through the undergrowth in some distance, had heard the running group of humans, and howled, heading towards them. Others took up its cry and their pursuit. Franka cursed, sped up. She wanted to kill the creature, but knew she had no chance yet. She could tell where it was, more or less, but without seeing it, and over such a distance, for her to shoot it was impossible. Even if she aimed the gun in precisely the right direction, there would be trees between them, impossible to make out in the inky darkness for someone without night vision. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>29-04-2010, 18:20:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem held back another curse, he was being left with Ashleigh and the two new additions, which he still didn't quite trusted. "I'll protect Ashleigh first, and then Franka, as I stated, she is your responsability, not mine." Utem answered on the radio, still moving ahead in the direction Franka had said the rock formation was in. He slowed down to get beside Franka, his sense alert at the slightest signal of the infected. "I'll take the rear, you keep moving, I won't get delayed enough to lose sight of you. Ashleigh, stick to her, she seems to have some knowledge of the area and enough experience with the infected. Jake stay with the two of them, something tells me you are good at shooting." <br><br>He allowed them to go past him and them kept the pace, still alert at any signal of an attack, still he hoped there was none. He clenched his teeth at the sounds coming from the undergrowth, he looked ahead at the path, memorizing the next few feet before turning around, while running backwards. Both guns where unholstered and the safety removed in one motion, the first rounds left them as soon as he turned around, leaving a large gap where the stinker's face had been. "Keep moving!" he called at the ones behind him as he did the same, shooting at the stinkers that were closer, being careful not to waste even a bullet. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>02-05-2010, 10:43:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anna breathed harshly as the Infected kept attacking. They outnumbered her now that she couldn't attack with her knife, so she drew her pistol. With her knife in one hand and her pistol in the same hand, Hackett fired as she walked backwards, aiming for the head as she did. 2, then 5, soon nearly 8 Infected were strewn about in front of her and more kept coming. She turned and ran as a group of 5 almost surrounded her, and she felt them grabbing at her pack. She sprinted viciously, turning wildly through the trees, and turning to fire every so often. She'd dropped two by the time the third manage to nearly grab her. She could hear them, funny enough, as they crashed into trees clumbsily and she took her opportunity to turn around and fire some more. She grabbed another flashbang and hurled it back the way she just came. It exploded again, much closer, and her ears immediately washed out into a ring that graduatelly got louder. She tried to run but found it impossible, given the noise in her ears. So she slowed, nearly to a crawl, but kept in a decent running pace, but stopped abruptly as she heard something crash down behind her.<br><br>Hackett turned to face Derrick, preparing to charge at him, until she recognized him. She frowned and cleaned her blade off on her pants, sliding it back in the sheath on her chest, and her sidearm to the thigh holster, then looking at him. She grabbed her 416 by the grip and trigger grip, and checked it for any damage. The holographic sight had gone out, but she turned it back on with a small switch and then focused on Derrick. "<strong>I thought I told you to stay with Ashleigh?</strong>" Hackett approached Derrick and pointed at him. She squinted and breathed deeply, her knuckles under her gloves turned white as she gripped her weapon in fury. Anna rolled her covered eyes at his question, shaking her head as she raised her 416 and began to turn. "<strong>Get your shit together man!</strong>" She spat at him, pointing towards where she thought he'd come from, she didn't rightly know where the others were at this point. "<strong>Get back to the others, and get them to the river! There are too many of these things for us to fight here, flight is greater than fight in this instance. I'll be at the river waiting for you.</strong>" Hackett pointed again, and turned around, sprinting off.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>02-05-2010, 12:25:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				And then, there were more, like a horde of barbarians on drugs they poured through the trees and thicket, flying towards the small group with that uncanny, inexplicable instinct they all seemed to possess, and, as always, also for no reason anyone had ever been able to figure out, hardly ever stumbling, falling or running into trees, as they ought, at their speed and in this accursed darkness. Utem had turned to cover their backs, running backwards, but that was merely one direction, and the stinkers came at them from all sides now. <br><br>Some were already close enough for Franka to shoot, aiming at the source of the howling and screaming. Only the sudden silence would tell her she had killed one, although the others could see she often came very close to the bull's eyes of the noise, aka the creatures' mouths. But it still was not enough, there were many, and quite a few came dangerously close, their superior speed making it almost impossible to outrun them even under ideal circumstances, leave alone in this darkness. Soon, Franka chose her machete over the gun, to spare bullets and increase her efficiency. <br><br>Now, her mastery of this weapon showed, her method a weird mixture of martial arts styles that would have looked a lot better with a sword, and the furious onslaught of a berserk. The control she had over her body was impressive, no doubt she had routine and determination when it came to fighting these once human creatures. A whirling, diving, jumping and kicking silhouette she was in the green flickering of the team's night vision, a viscous fighter, and apparently fearless, moving and acting as if being almost blind hardly bothered her.<br><br>This only seemed to be the case, however, it was not at all natural for her to have her main sense almost completely useless. Experience helped, but could not nearly make up for the feeling of being impaired, exposed, disadvantaged. Had there been a choice between fighting and running, she would have fled, but there was none, between life and death stood only the best use she could make of what little she had, her best allies being an instinct as sharp as her blade, and her fierce will to survive. She whirled around, slashing through an exposed throat, turning scream into gurgle once more, then ducked from under grasping arms, rolled around on the damp, slippery leaves to cut through one stinker's Achilles' tendon.<br><br>Coming back up, her blade tore through a second's hamstring. Where she could not instantly kill, she aimed at slowing them down, hacking away at them once they stumbled, fell, stomping a heavy boot onto their larynxes, ignoring the fingers digging into her skin, tearing at her leather clad legs. It was savage, brutal and gory, the seeming randomness of her attacks followed a strategy, though. All she did, every risk she took was aimed at preventing stinkers to come close enough to make physical contact with a team member. She panted, grunted with effort and occasional pain, soon was covered in blood, proof of an immunity that allowed her to fight in disregard of the infection risk, an advantage that maybe three people in a million had in common with her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>03-05-2010, 08:24:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Smirking some, Derrick tapped his chin and said <strong><strong>"Yeah, I remember you telling me that. I also remembered that I don't take orders. So I guess that'd complicate things. They're trucking ahead, obviously the goal isn't to fight. But if the entirety of the forest converges on this area? Clears their path."</strong></strong> A small grin crossed over his face when she sprinted off, pulling out a shotgun. He casually let off a shot in the air and yelled out <strong>"Hey fuckers! Come and get it, come on!"</strong> Taking off in another direction as he remained aware of his surroundings. He could hear noises, and branches being ran through. <br><br>Shouldering the shotgun for a second as one of the infected ran towards him along his path. It was greeted with a round to the face that tore its head apart as Derrick was moving like a bat out of hell now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>09-05-2010, 17:28:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her first encounter with the infected. Ashleigh was, to say the least, not enjoying herself. Coming here she knew the dangers, the risks that came with this mission. You cannot simply walk into someone's home unannounced and expect to have a warm welcoming, right? Why would that be any different to mindless husks.<br><br>As the scientist ran with those that came with her, she could never bring herself to raise the weapon that Hackett had given her. The notion that these were people, humans with daily lives and families, all of this stopped her from sending bullets flying in the horde's direction. There were words shouted out from this way and that. Whether they were instructions or not escaped Ashleigh, as her feet just told her to keep running. <br><br>With the night vision monocle off and away from her face, now bobbing along with her stride by her neck, Ashleigh couldn't really tell that she had outran the group that was so focused on keeping her safe. She wasn't sure just how far she was, nor did she care, as her running away from the fighting was the only thing on her mind.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>10-05-2010, 20:05:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem cursed as the infected got closer, he wasn't able to fend them off quickly enough. He pulled the back of his neck up and over his head, removing the helmet quickly as he ran, both guns held against his body. The fabric covered his head except for his eyes, it would avoid the blood from splattering on him. He got the helmet and the night goggles back on, hopefully the impermeable material would avoid any of the&nbsp; blood getting through, at least as long as it wasn't damaged. <br><br>Noticing Franka was getting held back, Utem supported her with impeccable aim, taking down stinkers with bullets flying inches from her. He guessed the rock formation shouldn't be too far away now, if they managed to hold the stinkers off there, then they would be able to reach the river. The clips soon emptied, perhaps sooner than Utem would have wished for. With a quick movement, he released the empty clips and reloaded them with the ones that protruded from the pockets at the sides of his best, close to his waist. There where only two extra clips on each side, if they needed more than that he would have to either take the time to take them out of his bags or change to his side weapons, that had even fewer bullets. <br><br>Carrying both bagpacks began taking it's toll on him, he felt the tingling sensation that forebade the pain of overexertion. He could cope with both, at least for an hour or so, but if they survived this, his legs would need a decent rest if they had to keep a similar pace. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>11-05-2010, 00:52:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anna coughed as she sprinted harder and harder, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as her body was being pushed to a limit she'd reached before many times, and knew she could hold out. Her legs felt good, but a little bit of pain sparked up in her calf. She hadn't pushed this hard in a good while, carrying so much weight. But the adrenaline was working its magic, and any pain she might have she could not feel. Her senses were high and her trainings effects were in play, even sprinting at full pace she was able to spot moving targets and deal with them, for ranged or running targets she had to stop and aim, but otherwsie she was fine running and gunning.<br><br>Her body count was up to 20 at least, probably more that she hadn't seen. The numbers of Infected were incredible, and Hackett's combat sense knew that going for the rocks was a bad idea. The Infected outnumbered the group by a staggering level, if the numbers Hackett had seen were any indication of strength in the area. Holding out was not an option, but Hackett had no idea where she was. The moon was up and she knew which way the river was, so she tried her best to make a run towards the trail, or where she thought it was, and where she knew the river was. <br><br>"<strong>Utem, pick up the pace, we can't stay around here for long.</strong>" Hackett yelled over her radio as she jumped over a low sitting toppled tree, landing awkwardly but staying on her feet. "<strong>I can't see you, but I think I'm running adjacent to you guys to the west.</strong>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>13-05-2010, 04:53:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem sighed and nodded silently, he looked around him, at Jake and Ashleigh, and also to Frnaka that was a bit away from them, his guns continue firing at any Infected that got too close, some of them were even kicked or punched, a kick blow either to break their necks or knock them into a more comfortable shooting range. <br><br>He yelled over the noise and shrieks of the stinkers, mostly at Franka that was furthest away from him. "We have new orders, we will skip the rocks and cross the river!" He called simply. Ashleigh was already running ahead of him and he hoped Jake kept up with them. He also set to run to catch up to Ashleigh, he pulled her arm sligthly, moving away from the closing rock formation. <br><br>He took a flare, lit it up and threw it inside the formation, followed by a timed block of C4, already prepared for distraction porpouses and part of his usual gear, set to blow in 30 seconds. "I've set a bomob in the rock formation, the flare will lure them enough, try to run out of the range, it is in the rock formation." He called over the radio to the others. "Jake, Ashleigh, with me!" he called at the two of them. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>13-05-2010, 14:03:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"What river?" Franka called back, confused. Momentarily free of attackers, she tried to adjust her hearing to the sudden near silence, no more shots and screams tore through the night, not where they were, at least, as they had killed off all Infected that had been close to them. Eventually, she could hear the others running, Ashleigh apparently ahead of them all. With a suppressed curse, she headed towards them, running as fast as she could. She reached Utem and Ashleigh just as the flare illuminated the night - destroying any chance to pause, catch their breath, take a stand in the rock formation. "Damn!" She panted.<br><br>She was a ghastly sight, literally dripping blood. She stunk of it, too, and of worse, her hat was gone, her hair plastered to her skull, lighter streaks on her face showed where she had wiped her sleeve over her mouth - and over forehead, too, probably to stop the blood from running into her eyes. The white of her eyes and teeth stood out in a face smeared and caked with blood and what was left of her earlier camouflage, the greyish black of the coal. It all looked dark, though, could only be distinguished by its thickness, and by being glistening wet here and there.<br><br>She kept her usual distance to the three, but otherwise stuck with them. "Where's the soldier now, can she catch up? Tell her the river dried up years ago. Let's stay on the path, with this light drawing all the stinkers here, we need to outrun them - then&nbsp; - somehow head for the village - Vinxel, right? That's where you want to go, there's that house?" Turning around herself as she ran, she took in as many details as she could about their surroundings, while the night was lit. She listened, too, not surprised to hear frenzied screams heading towards the rock formation. <br><br>Thankfully, the path had taken a twist, and the fleeing group was out of sight for all stinkers that came from behind, right or left of them. From the direction towards which they were fleeing, none could be seen or heard. Then, the bomb detonated, and even in this comparatively safe distance, she was knocked off her feet by the shock wave. She felt the gravel bite into her hands and face, was glad her body was better protected, came up again, stumbled a few steps, somewhat disoriented. The noise, the sheer power of that blast, rocks, trees, bodies, earth being ripped apart, tossed high into the air and now crashing and raining down all around them, it was dangerous - to Franka, who had lived in such quiet for so long, it was frightening, too. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>13-05-2010, 18:01:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick was tearing through the woods like a bat out of hell, followed by hordes of infected. Reaching into a pouch, he pulled out an M67 pulled the pin out and casually slid it along the ground behind him before hopping over a small hill and hugging tightly against it. The explosion sent him forward some but he was unharmed. The blast had took out a large mass of the infected, sending limbs in every direction. Derrick immediately took off once more and holstered the shotgun. Instead going for his rifle and taking the time to chuck another M67 back over his shoulder before hugging a rather large tree. <br><br>This time he wasn't rocked forward, and Derrick took a breath before flipping out of cover and letting off rounds into whatever was left standing. Going solely for headshots in three shot bursts. All the while he was backing up but would turn his head over his shoulder every few seconds to keep aware of his surroundings. He was positive that eventually he'd come back across the group. If need be, their footsteps? Would look a lot differently from those of the infected.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>13-05-2010, 19:16:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"It dried up?" Utem asked looking over his shoulder. "Hackett, Franka says the river has dried up, we are heading southwest from the rock formation, through a path that branches from the main, we will meet you two at the river as planned, if either of you doesn't show up after an hour I will radio our next rendezvous point." He was also addressing Derrick, he didn't liked the man or his methods, but he was part of the team at the moment. If the threat of those things was anything like they were going through they would need all hands. He shiver ran down his spine as he considered a similar attack inside a city, where they had been told the infected concentred. <br><br>A clock had been ticking in his head as they moved, and stopped briefly for the explosion, "Brace your...!" His warning was interrupted by the blast it went out a second before what he had expected. The extra weight and practice kept him on his feet, the mask and helmet helped with the shockwave, so the disorientation was lessened. <br><br>He heard Franka fall and skid, they needed her, she knew the terrain, so he moved close to her, patting with some force her cheeks with his hands, not quite slapping her, but enough to make her focus. "Get a hold of yourself, we can't stay here." He siad simply, before checking on Ashleigh and briefly on Jake. He was more concerned about the first than the last, being a scientist, it was most likely that she wasn't used to such explosions. He was used to them, the fact that he carried such explosive ready to use showed that. It was a 'popular' diversion amongst his team, sticking it to a moving target and letting the enemy follow and then get close to it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>13-05-2010, 21:01:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka, back on her feet and blinking dust out of her streaming eyes, her ears quite useless for precise orientation or detecting far away sounds after the incredible noise of that detonation, had started padding herself down to make sure all was still in place and she was ready to go, when Utem had stepped into her blurred vision, and before she could comprehend his intention or stop him, he had lightly slapped her face with both hands. <br><br>Her eyes widened in pure horror as he touched her cheeks, wet and covered in blood as they were. She pulled away instantly, staring, her eyes fixed on his, studying the white in them, in which no veins suddenly stood out, the irises, which did not turn red. She then got out a bottle and poured something that smelled sharply of disinfectant over his hands. "Never touch blood, not theirs, not mine, do you hear me? Never! If you've got one scratch, if the tiniest drop gets splattered or wiped into your eyes or mouth, you are infected, and you will turn. Do you get that? Now, clean your hands, and remember next time."<br><br>What he had done had shaken her more badly than the detonation, she remembered similar scenes that had ended less lucky, with people turning into Infected after an attack, through nothing but incautious behaviour, wiping the nose with the back of a bloodstained hand, drinking from a contaminated bottle, kissing someone in relief, or pulling a crying child's face into their blood-soaked sweater - for silence, protection, comfort or love - and then? Well... That was a horror worse than a horde of unknown stinkers coming from somewhere outside a group. Shaking off these memories, fighting to see and hear better again, her sensitive ears still quite affected by the blast, she fell back into step with the others, running again, at her light, regular pace, on the path, towards the riverbed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>14-05-2010, 04:53:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem had tapped a button in his goggles to make them clear, he couldn't risk turning on a light and he needed to see at the moment, his nightsight goggles needed time to readjust after the flare. Her reaction had shaken him, it was evident that there had to be some bad memories related to a similar event. Nodding silently at everything she had said, he decided to apologize later, after they had cleaned up. He stored the bottle in one of his pockets cautiously. <br><br>He would have to wash everything thorughly, but it could wait for now. The fabric of his clothes was waterproof so he wasn't worried about the blood. A quick dip in the river and a conscious wash of the gear would rid it of the blood. For now, all that had to busy his mind was running away from the stinkers and keeping the team alive, or at least enough of them to complete the mission.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>14-05-2010, 06:26:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett turned on the 'hoof', so to speak, pushing her body to go faster. She'd already lost the Infected trailing behind her, constant glances and turns proved fruitless, and her ears couldn't hear anything but her own footsteps and her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Some what was dampening her forehead, and her helmet felt itchy, a tell tale sign of sweaty hair. So she slowed, a little, and cursed her old maps. In her haste, she'd forgotten to check the river on the satellite, make sure it was still there. It figured that years without human intervention and some nasty weather would change the landscape, though drying up a whole river, or diverting it, Hackett had mused the idea of weather based effects over a long period of no human intervention. But she wasn't Ashleigh smart, she had combat sense, not much else. It didn't occur to her this was a rapid process. <br><br>Well, fuck it all. She winced at the explosion, the shock wave rushed over her like a wave, and she just stood there. Uneffected by the thickness of her helmet and the padded ear guards, she was merely pushed gently as the wave tore over all living matter, to an infinite distance until its energy dwindled to the point humans could hear or feel it. She crouched down and flipped up her night vision, her eyes refixed to the new darkness rapidly, thanks to the dull green of her night vision. She looked around with fresh eyes, whom were happy to finally get some fresh air. She kneeled down and looked about, her eyes catching what looked like a ridge or hill. She approached.<br><br>At the top, she gazed down, and recognized this area from the old sat photo she'd used to plan the route. The dried river bed. Shit, she'd run to far. It hadn't dawned on her to calculate how slow or fast Utem would go, she just wanted to lead a few away. Actually, she had wanted them to get a bit away so she could contact the States. She didn't know where the secondary was, but she wanted to find it before they were set up, at least so she'd have a plan of action. Hackett looked about, standing up and running a bit in one direction. She figured she'd find the path, and then go backwards to find the others. "<strong>Utem, I found the river bed, its definitely dried up. Just means we aren't getting wet today.</strong>" Hackett piped up on the radio, stumbling upon a smooth path and crouching down. She could almost see something, and flipped down her night vision. It wasn't them, it was a lumbering Infected. She raised her assault rifle as it looked about frantically. She fired once, catching it just below the ear and nearly into a cartwheel against a tree. Her eyes caught a infrared strobe, possibly one on someones helmet, though she didn't know who's. "<strong>I will wait for you at the end of your trail, I think I can see your infrared strobe, or someones.</strong>" <br><br>Hackett flipped on her rifle's IR designator, and kneeled down at the edge of the path, looking around quietly, waiting for the next thing to go wrong.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>16-05-2010, 20:38:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka was already confident of her bearings again, and to her satisfaction and relief, her hearing had adjusted, too. She had found her rhythm in running, and could not detect any signs of stinkers following them. It must have worked, Utem's diversion, his trap, the freaks had either been blown up or were so distracted by the source of noise and light they had lost sight - and recollection, prolly - of the small group of runners. They couldn't hear the muffled pounding of feet on gravel, either, and as the path lead into the one direction from where not a single stinker had appeared, they might just be lucky from now on. <br><br>Even better, as the trees thinned, she could distinguish some of her surroundings, shapes only, but a fairer blue tinged the horizon, there was a greyish hint to the darkness, it was no longer nearly impenetrable, and once outside the wood, it got even better. She slowed to a halt and checked her surroundings. She knew the others were close, it would not do to have them leave the cover of the trees only to run into a bunch of stinkers. She heard or smelled no sign of any, though, but something alerted her, a sense of not being alone. Of course, she could not know what the others had been told, nor see the crouching Hackett.<br><br>She crossed the stretch of wet grass between the path and the riverbed, machete in one hand, gun in the other, peering into either direction, sniffing in the fresh, cool air. Once more, she became a noiseless, slowly moving shape of solid darkness. She saw a red dot of light dance over some leaves, too small to do harm if infected were around. But there were none, not a hint of their scent, not a sound, not a single ominously swaying shadow. She lowered her gun and began to stretch her muscles. She looked like a cross between a strangely armed Tai Chi practitioner and a weird athlete after a run, but she cared not, and besides, she thought nobody saw her. <br><br>If anyone knew just how important it was to keep your muscles smooth and warm, flexible, ready to go, it was Franka, habitually paranoid and halfway obsessed with everything that rendered her survival more likely. The chill night air, heavy with dew, could cool you off too quickly, something that ended in stiff muscles, at best. All it took from there was one sudden or false movement, one slip or stumble, and your chances in any fight or flight were diminished. Franka had an entire litany of must and mustn't do, it was her catechism of survival, and she was a walking encyclopedia of all the small, stupid, absurd or unimportant seeming things that had gotten people killed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>21-05-2010, 07:32:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"See you there then." Utem said a few seconds before they broke through the treeline after Franka, making sure both Jake and Ashleigh were still with them. <em>"I will wait for you at the end of your trail, I think I can see your infrared strobe, or someones."</em> "It might be us." He answered hearing her comment and looking around, his nightvision goggles were working again as thye should. Soon enough, he spotted Hackett's IR signal and headed that way. <br><br>"This way." He said outloud, although just enough for the other three to hear, he didn't knew if Ashleigh's comm was working since he hand't heard her through the radio in a while. "We are heading in your direction, I'll move my IR in three counterclockwise circles, tell me if you see it and mimic it, just for safety." He said over the radio while tracing the three circles, his eyes fixed on the what he beleived to be Hackett's signal. He only saw one, so perhaps Derrick wasn't there yet.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>24-05-2010, 22:42:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett flexed her jaw as she waited, the sweat induced itch on her head becoming worse and worse by the minute, she started to regret the balaclava on her face and her night vision, though she was thankful they had saved her life, she hated the heat each produced in its own way. The waiting was an easy thing to do, however, as a sniper she was an expert in the arts of musing herself with pointless tasks and guiltless pleasures that required no movement or speaking on her part, that allowed for maximum concentration on the real world. Fantasies were pretty commons.<br><br>Movement caught her attention, but she remained motionless as the stray showed up, stopping at the edge of the river side, albeit dried river, and looked around. Hackett watched her, glancing back down the path as the young woman began to stretch. Talking about a fantasy, Hackett had a perfect spot to watch the woman, although she blushed and looked away frequently, feeling wrong. But she always looked back to the woman, eyeing her up and down and was a little embarassed to call her a 'stray'. She was quite striking, very pretty even tinted and grainy green, but Hackett felt awkward watching her like this. As Utem's voice came over the radio, she quietly cleared her throat and thumbed her transmit button. "<strong>Copy.</strong>" She replied a little louder, rotating her rifle in a circle, and her eyes at the same time. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>28-05-2010, 22:54:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka, her stretching done, next fished out a bit of cloth. She was loath to waste any drinking water on cleaning herself up, so she knelt down and lightly brushed the cloth over the long, dewy grass until it was soaked, then shook it out and ran it over her face and what of her neck she could reach above the leather collar, scrubbing away at the spots where the blood was dry. She soaked the cloth again, rubbed it over her hair. She could only get the worst off, but it was better than nothing. After she had cleaned her hands and the machete, she considered putting coal on her face again, but as they were out of the woods now, it would not be the only light surface around, there were enough stones, the hay wasn't dark, either - no need for that icky camouflage. <br><br>It was then she heard Hackett's 'Copy.'. Aha! That had been why she felt observed, she wasn't paranoid at all, the soldier was nearby, and with her night vision, she must have seen her. Luckily, Franka had no suspicions about the nature of Hackett's watching her, or their first meeting might have been a lot more awkward than it was likely to become now. With a last careful glance around, Franka stored her cloth away and strolled over to the one member of the team whose name she didn't know, careful to maintain her usual distance. "Hi." She whispered, and although it was just a single word, it had enough warmth to convey another meaning, along the lines of 'Good to see you, glad you made it.'&nbsp; That this was the direction of Franka's thoughts was confirmed by her question. "You alright?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>28-05-2010, 23:35:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem lowered his rifle and followed Franka to where Hackett was. He motioned for Jake and Ahsleigh to follow him.His legs were giving in already, so he lowered both backpacks and sat on the ground, stretching them. "Glad to see you are ok. Any news of Derrick?" He asked looking around and noticing his absence. Opening one of the bags, he took out some ammunition for his guns, he had depleted the clips. "That was a ridiculous amount of hostiles...We can't risk getting involved in one of those again. We don't have enough ammunition for one of those encounters daily."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>29-05-2010, 01:26:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett stood up as the woman noticed her talking, and took a quick look to see Utem was already drawing close. She stepped out onto the trail a little, and to her surprise the young woman approached her and asked if she was okay. Hackett looked at her silently until Utem neared, and flipped up her night vision. <br><br>"<strong>I'll live.</strong>" Hackett responded to her concern rather coldly, but welcomed the care. She glanced over at Utem as he sat down and eyed Ashleigh and the new guy, Jake she thought his name was. "<strong>Everyone okay?</strong>" Hackett looked at the group and at the young woman, looking out into the woods when Utem mentioend Derrick .<br><br>"<strong>No idea, he'll show when he shows, we can rest here for a little while.</strong>" Hackett spoke, flipping the safety on her rifle and looking up at the night, moon lit sky above with her own two eyes, without night vision. "<strong>If he's not here in 5 minutes we'll have to leave him behind. Your right, we can't keep getting into fights like this, we need to pick and choose when and where we initiate contact.</strong>" She didn't like leaving people behind, but Derrick had already proven he'd do the same for his own selfish reasons, Hackett would not lose much sleep in this regard. Her glares returned to the young woman, tempted to ask her the question poking in the back of her mind, but her better judgement told her not to.<br><br>She knew everyone was tired, things had not gone to plan but Hackett was well enough prepared for that eventuality, better now then a critical moment. Things would always go wrong, as they had, but preparedness and adaptability were key to overcoming challenges faced on the battlefield. Hackett looked at the young woman and put her hand on the womans shoulder, gently but her glove was warm from the heat of her weapon firing. "<strong>Do you know the status of the town just across that dried river and open fields just beyond those trees? Ever been there?</strong>" Hackett asked.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>05-06-2010, 10:34:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka mainly watched and listened, half of her attention always on their surroundings. It was calm now, this late night, beautiful, surprisingly fresh, given how warm, almost hot, the days had become. Franka decided she could drink a little of her water, and fished out the bottled, enough of a distraction not to notice how close Hackett had come, so that the soldier's hand landed on Franka's shoulder before she could step back or turn away. The bottle on its way up to her mouth stopped in midair when she froze, mouth already open. Her eyes moved to her shoulder, her leather jacket was guaranteed to be spluttered with infected blood. She turned towards Utem and whispered. "Ahem - Utem, still got that disinfectant?" <br><br>Returning her gaze to the soldier, she reminded her. "Don't touch anything with that hand before you disinfected your glove, right?" She was not angry now, as little as she had been angry at Utem, these were natural mistakes to make, they had happened to people all the time, years after they ought to have learned better. The team couldn't be expected to have internalised repressing the impulse to touch, make kind gestures, but she, Franka, she should have payed more attention. "Sorry, should have - you know, stepped aside." She took a swig from the bottle to quench both her thirst and her anger at herself, then answered the question. "Vinxel, right? I've been there. Buildings are intact, nothing wild went on around there. They completely evacuated it early on. What stinkers are around have strayed there later. Should be few."<br><br>She paused, thinking, eyes squinting at the tree line. She seemed to hesitate, weigh an option. "I might know a better place, nearby. Single house, though, but - well, they were ecology fanatics. Water supplies, energy, the building's got it's own. We've used it as a safe house, and keep things working, in case..." She gave a small shrug. "Well, water, heating, energy from the solar cells on the roof and stuff, alarm systems, huge wall around it, it's all there. I don't think they'd mind if I let you stay there. I don't know if you'd trust me, though. If you'd rather not, then - Vinxel's a good choice, too."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>05-06-2010, 14:44:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh wasn't new to physical exertion. The body is equally as important as the mind; if you let one of them rot you may a well be cutting off several years off of your life. The difference between the elliptical machine and the German wilderness is that the latter is currently crawling with zombies. Between the gunfire and the explosions, the scientist quickly got disoriented and was running this way and that for the longest time. Thankfully it was not as if the zombies had surrounded the group and was approaching from all sides, leaving the young woman a sort of distinct path to follow.<br><br>When the chatter over the come was filled with voices more than gunfire, Ashleigh splatted to a halt - half voluntary, the other because of a slight buckle at the knee. Apparently she wasn't as far away as she thought she was, and in no time at all was the group essentially beside her, with her eyes squinting upwards in the dark at the standing silhouettes. She managed to figure out who was who simply by their voice; Utem was clearly a man, Hackett's voice was laced with authority and military know-how, Franka's had a distinct accent to it, one she couldn't place as German but it likely didn't matter either way. The others remained quiet for now, but body shape made it easy enough to guess that it was Jake. That left one missing...<br><br>Troubled by the images flowing through her mind as to what may have happened to the straggler, Ashleigh stayed on the ground, sitting on her knees with a dead, blank look on her face. She would follow Hackett anywhere she decided to go. Even if the military officer had tossed the reins to the scientist, there was no way that she could make any decisions now in the dark and her body more or less telling her to simply rest. In a few minutes, maybe.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>06-06-2010, 23:32:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Seems those that are reliable are here..."</em>Utem thought looking down at the dry river. If it had been there, he could have just jjumped in and washed the blood off...His suit was watertight and allowed his body to breath as well, but it was warm rom the previous run through the forest. Still, he didn't dared to remove yet, he knew that there was blood on him. And if he could, he would rather save the vaccines.<br><br>Utem looked up slightly startled, his mind had become fuzzy from the tingling pain he felt on his legs and the exertion, carrying the two bags was not a kind task. "Yes, I do here." He said handing the bottle to Franka, careful to avoid getting blood on his gloves. He watched Franka and Hackett curiously. Franka's reaction had been kinder with her than with him...Maybe she got used to the fact that it would happen eventually? Or maybe because Hackett was a woman? He chuckled remembering an error screen in one of the computers he had worked with: "Not enough data, can't compute."<br><br>He allowed the two of them to speak, still keeping an ear on their conversation. He wandered over to Ashleigh and sat in front of her, regarding her blank stare. Remembering Franka's advice, he avoided touching her but he had to get her attention somehow. "Hey, Ashleigh, are you in there?" He tried to keep his voice flat and somewhat soft. If this had been Ashleigh's first field experience, the least she needed was getting startled. "First time is never easy." He added just after the previous phrase.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>10-06-2010, 05:01:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the infected had first come across the group's location, Jake had started to follow after Franka, but with the infected coming from the forest, Jake had to switch directions. As he was running, he glanced over his shoulder every now and then, seeing that he had caught the attention of a group of infected. "Shit..." he murmured as he turned his attention forward again. At this point, he wasn't really caring if he was following the group. What he really cared about was getting away from the infected in one piece. If he did get too far from the group, he knew he would be able to catch back up with them at one point or another.<br><br>He then stopped for a moment and turned around so that he could let off a couple of rounds, dropping several infected. His supressor was attached, so the shots didn't make a whole ton of sound.But the dead infected were quickly replaced by more, so he quickly turned back around and began to run again, going as quick as he could manage to with his night vision and gear on and trying to maneuver through the forest without tripping and falling, which would definitely be bad for him..and good for the infected. His pack was heavy and for a moment he had wished he hadn't brought as much, but all of the stuff was essential - ammunition for both his guns, hand grenades, several concussion grenades, some spare food...and several attachments for his primary rifle.<br><br>Jake heard rustling to his left, then glanced over to see more infected coming his face. "Fuck..." He turned to the side slightly and aimed his rifle for the infected and began to fire, his rifle set to semi automatic at the time so that he wouldn't waist much needed ammunition. The infected to his left dropped in their tracks as he mainly aimed for the center of their torso and chest, knowing that the chest and head were the two easiest ways to kill them once and for all.<br><br>He could hear gunfire in the distance, and he knew he was getting further away from the group. Jake figure the bulk of the infected would have followed after the others, but when he glanced over his shoulder again, he could see a rather large group of infected quickly following after him. Jake then reached for his jacket belt and pulled out one of the M67 hand greandes, pulled the pin off, then tossed it behind him before he quickly ran as fast as he could to get away from the blast radius. He then heard a loud explosion sound, then was sent flying a few feet -&nbsp; while limbs and blood flew in all directions. Jake then got up as quickly as he could then looked around, only able to see a few more infected after him. He then aimed down the sights of his rifle and picked them off one by one before turning and starting to run again. But as he did, he tripped, and the next thing he knew was he was tumbling down a hill, and then blackness hit him.....
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>15-06-2010, 20:12:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett shook her hand as Franka moved away, she shrugged her shoulders and watched the woman with vague interest, watching as Ashleigh and Utem seemed to be resting and talking together. Anna was switching between looking around and watching Franka, being especially concerned with any weapons the woman was carrying and if they were a threat. She knew not to touch anything, but she had her gloves on and if she were dumb enough to touch her mouth or eyes with a blood stained glove, she wouldn't be alive. Though admittedly, Anna had forgotten the whole 'don't touch' speech she'd already done, and was clearly impatient with the speech happening now. Anna waved to Utem, motioning her hands up to get he and Ashleigh back on their feet. <br><br>A crisp explosion sounded off in the distance, and Anna looked towards a slight flash a distance away. She could see it well with her night vision, though just barely able to make it out from the green and white flash that filled a small part of her vision. Despite her night vision, it was hard to see much of anything not right near them. Utem and Anna's infrared sights created a bright spot that was hard to ignore, but she didn't need to see to pay attention. As Franka pointed out a new spot to go, Hackett played the idea through in her head. She wasn't keen on it, but if it was closer and had good security, it might be worth a short stop. <br><br>"<strong>All right, we'll head to this house.</strong>" Hackett pointed off across the dried river bed. "<strong>No surprises, got it?</strong>" Hackett added as she approached Ashleigh and Utem, looking around as she crouched.<br><br>"<strong>Are you okay de Jong? Need a rest?</strong>" Anna asked sincerely, lifting the night vision away from her eyes and looking at Ashleigh. "<strong>No signs of Derrick or the other guy, we'll wait for a few minutes and then we have to head out. We're not going straight to our main objective, a quick detour to get through the night. Utem, keep her with you at all times, if I say run you run, if I tell you to leave me behind you do it. Got it?</strong>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>18-06-2010, 15:45:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka watched the lights in the distance, the next explosion. These soldiers were making a hell of a racket, and no mistaking it. It quite matched the image spread about Americans in the media before the catastrophe hit. She wondered whether they would always be like that, blowing things up left and right, and what they'd do once they ran out of ammunition, which, if they got into a few more encounters, would be the case sooner rather than later.<br><br>To Hackett's decision, she nodded, but cocked an eyebrow. Surprises? Hardly avoidable in stinker infested Europe. As far as she was concerned, she'd be a lot happier without any - who wouldn't? She watched her march over to Ashleigh, from whom Utem was already trying to get a response, trying to start a conversation, to reassure her. Ashleigh looked too dazed to notice or appreciate their attention, probably was mildly traumatised, they'd better get her focussed on blindly following them, this inner autopilot system humans had was quite useful. As long as she stayed near them, all they needed to do was to steer her in the right direction, not leave her out of sight. Only her survival mattered right now, not whether she was feeling chipper.<br><br>"We'd better go now. Once these fires burn down, stinkers will be stray everywhere, then the whole mess will repeat itself. Let's make the best of that distraction, at least, this way we know where the stinkers are heading, what they're drawn to, and it's not us for a change. We shouldn't rest now, not here, it's not safe enough, we need to keep moving." Gazing at the three of them, she added. "At least get her off the ground, its too cold and wet."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>28-06-2010, 16:46:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett stood up in front of Ashleigh and Utem, glancing back at Franka and nodding. "<strong>We'll rest for a few, but try to keep yourselves quiet and be ready to move shortly.</strong>" Hackett whispered, staring down at the two on the ground in front of her, blinking slowly as she glanced up to look around. She flipped down her night vision and turned them on, the world basked again in a green hue and brightened to her satisfaction. <br><br>The area was bleak, just as it had been the last time she looked, but at least there were no obvious signs of any Infected, or... 'stinkers', as they were aparently dubbed by the locals. Albeit curious, Hackett thought it was better if she just ignored that pending question in the back of her mind about asking, it was borderline unprofessional and definitely not a need to know thing. She figured it had something to do with the rotting smell that had assaulted her nose since the attack, but again, she didn't ask questions when the answer wasn't something she gave a damn about.<br><br>Turning to Franka, Hackett flipped off her night vision and pushed the goggles upwards, walking towards the woman slowly, careful to stay a few feet away as to avoid another lecture. "<strong>So, tell me about this home.</strong>" Hackett whispered to Franka, gazing out across the riverbed thoughtfully, casually looking up into the sky at the moon. "<strong>Anyone else staying there? How do you know of it?</strong>" she slowed down, glancing at the ground for a moment as she turned down the rapid fire questionnaire, especially since it was likely Anna and her gang of misfits were the first contact this girl had with civilization since the gassing.<br><br>Anna looked at Franka, lowering her rifle slightly as she did so. "<strong>I don't mean to sound ungrateful, we are thankful for your help.</strong>" Then came the big plunge. "<strong>But to be honest, I don't a lot of reasons to trust locals from around here, and not because of the way things are over here.</strong>" Hackett said that with a hint of understanding, and with a good bit of sorrow in her voice, which she probably unsuccessfully tried to hide.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>30-06-2010, 09:50:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka watched as Hackett strolled back to her, and noticed the soldier stopped at a distance she herself was comfortable with. Of all the group, she was the only one who had ever done that, and whatever Hackett's reasons might be, she appreciated it. This was instantly reflected in her posture. She had been alert when the soldier had moved, ready to react instantly, take a few steps back herself, but now, she change to a far more relaxed watchfulness, relieved her attention could focus on their surroundings, without being forced to keep an eye on the people nearby, too.<br><br>"It's a big house. Only my people know of it, and how to get inside. It'll be empty. It's got electricity, water. You can have lights on without them being seen from the outside. The walls are high, thick, solid. Security cams scan the entire surroundings once you activate them, so, you'll get alerted if anything's wrong, and can make sure it's safe to leave. From the outer wall, you can take stinkers down without getting near them, they'd not even see you. The inner wall's the same, stands a good hundred metres from the first. Then comes the fence, a stretch of garden, then the house, door and windows protected by thick metal plates etc.. Safest place for miles around, and pure luxury - well, for the likes of me." <br><br>She grinned. For that short moment, one could imagine the girl she might once have been, the woman she might have become under different circumstances, someone who liked to laugh, grin, crack jokes, a little cheeky, maybe. It didn't last long, that echo of the past, her face was serious and she her usual watchful self when she continued answering questions. "It belongs to one of my people - used to be their family home. They had pulled up the outer wall before the outbreak hit here, but they went to the evacuation centre, all but one got killed there, that one came back, found the house safe, lived there, later met my people, joined them, offered their place as our safe house. We added the inner wall, the fence, the metal plates and stuff."<br><br>She looked back at Hackett, weighing her words about trust. Franka did not look surprised or hurt, and answered in her usual manner. "If you don't kill me, you've got to trust me. Not blindly, but some. Else, you'd need to watch me 24/7, no matter what. Damn impractical. But... If you're killed, they'll send a new team, then another, and another, each time with more soldiers. Hellish trouble. Even without that, your stuff simply isn't worth risking to try to take it by force. Unless you harm my people, there's nothing to fear. I'd rather see you get what you want and leave, double quick. So, I help."<br><br>She fell silent to listen, look around for anything suspicious. When she gazed at Hackett again, her face was as open and calm as before, but she was dead serious. "But - imagine what that house means for us. Don't risk its security, make it inhabitable, steal or break things. Don't harm my people, don't endanger their survival, and we're fine, it's all I want, all I ask of you. However, if you forced me to, I'd choose the least of my people over the best of you - and over anything you might offer me. Whether I'll be someone's ally, neutral, or their enemy, depends on how they treat my people."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>01-07-2010, 04:21:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett watched the young woman, her curiosity was poked but she remained concentrated on her legitimate mission. The womans face was the thing that had drawn most of Hackett's attention, she didn't have any illusions, but she had a certain facination about her, Franka that is, there was just something about her that was intriguing, very much so, especially for Hackett given her past experiences with her kind. Then again, what she'd seen before didn't quite match up, or more specifically they weren't even in the same leagues. Had they been, it was likely Hackett and company would have been attacked already. Hackett turned her attention back to Franka as she spoke, casually turning slowly to face Utem and signaled him to hurry up and get Ashleigh in moving condition, this was a bad place to end up.<br><br>Returning her attention to Franka, Hackett watched her with interest, but taking in the information she was giving on the house. As nice as it sounded, Hackett's survival instinct told her no. Sane people wouldn't let strangers into their home, especially today and with a situation that perfect. Franka mentioned 'her people', which Hackett obviously took interest in, uncomfortably shifting her stance so she was more facing Franka than the other side of the river. Cameras and high walls, assumed vantage points, they could very well move the CP for the missiont here, and scrap the Vinxel plan. Hardened doors and plexiglass windows, along with a high-tech emergency center in the basement and a panic room as well underground, all that seemed a little underwhelming compared to what Franka described.<br><br>But that fact alone made Hackett uneasy, her gaze shifting back and forth between Franka and the riverbank, odd times looking all around, moving her night vision on and off. Looking out for both humans and the Infected. As she looked, however, Hackett saw Franka grin and watched her for a moment, caught a little off guard that she'd decided to smile and continued on. Hackett listened, nodding in understanding when Franka mentioned the evac center issue. That had happened a lot, most of them from people forcing their way in, only to get overwhelmed by the Infected. Hackett had seen easily thousands, if not tens of thousands of people die, an entire city of Infected in Poland descending on 12,000 people stuffed into a small stadium. From the air, it looked surreal but the bombs dropped a few minutes after they'd taken off broke the fragile reality Hackett had held onto that the human race might recover from this.<br><br>"<strong>I see, well... </strong>" Hackett laughed. "<strong>... last time we sent a team here they were 8 strong, and now we've cut it down to 1, and with 3 civilians to top that, so your logic is flawed. If this mission fails, well, I wouldn't expect soldiers. I'd expect bombs.</strong>"<br><br>And then, came that threat. It wasn't really a threat, more of an ultimatum of sorts. Mine own over you, it was a simple concept but Hackett only smiled, because in reality if it came to that, she had the same idea with the two sitting on the ground. If Derrick was even alive, he was on the edge of her patience, alreading proving to her he had no illusions about attempting to complete this mission. Hackett tried to find words to express how much she <em>did not</em> want to harm Franka or her people, but her orders were very clear, and very plain. Do the mission, any opposition is to be neutralized on site, lethal force. If someone was in that house, and didn't want Hackett and her trio to enter, it would get ugly and get ugly quick.<br><br>"<strong>Well...</strong>" Hackett again spoke, looking back quickly to Utem and Ashleigh, then back to Franka. She was tempted to act hurt towards the stealing comments, that was just a bit painful, but her better judgement took hold and she only pointed towards the river side. "<strong>Lets move.</strong>" She spoke into her mic, looking over at Utem and flipping off the safety for her weapon.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>01-07-2010, 06:12:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka could tell that talking about her people made Hackett nervous. She did not comment, though, pretended to not notice it. It was understandable, the team had no more reason to expect 'friendly aborigines' than she had to trust these people invading her country. Plus, the last time anyone from the outside world had seen survivors was when they were still trying to evacuate people, in the middle of the craze, with most people as out of their minds as they were out of control, paranoid, panicking, shocked, drunk on violence and anarchy, some, and all fighting for their own survival with whatever means thy had or thought they had. Things had changed a lot, but how would anyone out there know? It wasn't as if the world had cared a straw about them, other than to make sure they couldn't possibly leave this hell and spread the infection.<br><br>She laughed, at Hackett's comment as much as because she found it hard to resist Hackett's laugh. Which was odd, as she usually didn't find anything in the company of strangers that would draw her out. Perhaps it was the excitement of these people coming form the outside world, the so-called civilisation? Franka made no sound, had not laughed aloud outside a safe place in may years. Her laugh didn't lose much of its charm to its voiceless nature, though, it was like an upgraded version of that carefree, slightly challenging grin Hackett had seen before, that echo of a once dominant side of her personality that had become dormant and rare over the years. "Nah." She shook her head, still grinning, eyes bright. "Whatever it is they want, it's something they can't get with bombs, they need people to fetch it. Else, they'd have already spread a brand new bomb carpet over us with loving hands." <br><br>Serious again, she tilted her head, peering at the antsy Hackett. "I've got an idea what it is they want, and why. That's the other reason I'm helping you. I'd not wish this..." - here, she gestured around - "...on my worst enemy. It's shite to be here, but it's a, well, somewhat threadbare consolation the rest of humankind still is business as usual." <br><br>When Hackett gave the order to move, she turned her back on the soldier without hesitation, and climbed the steep edge of the riverbed on the side opposite the direction they had come from. Finally, she managed to grab a promising root with her free hand, gave it a few tentative pulls, then swung herself up. Her legs flew up sideways, and she lay flat on her stomach on the ridge, peering out into the night without having caused more than a rustle of leaves a slight gush of wind might have caused. Silence. Fragrance of herbs, woods, dried leaves. Nearby, a sleepy blackbird chirped. Franka smiled, the sky was lighting up, half an our, and they'd be able to see almost properly. Well, her, too, the others could see well enough already. "Looks good up here, all quiet." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>02-07-2010, 08:53:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick had lost track of time, but eventually enough difference was put between him and the infected to where he was no longer able to hear them, nor see them. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he slumped down and took in a breath for a moment. He really hadn't expected to have to deal with so many of them so soon, but wasn't that the way these assignments usually went?<br><br>Now the most important matter would be locating the group, Franka in particular. She knew what he needed to know, and he couldn't very well let her die without getting said information. So with caution, Derrick moved silently but with a purpose. He eventually came to some footprints and leaning down some, a close examination was given to them. They were fresh, within the span of an hour maybe two at the most. They also weren't that of the infected. The steps while they were definitely that of people running, they were more deliberate in comparison to the wild frenzied pace that came with anything that wasn't human anymore. So it was with this thought Derrick slowly followed the trail.<br><br>A good deal of time passed before exiting the forest, the sight that greeted the weary man was that of a dried up river bed. Following the footprints, he started to feel more at ease due to the freshness of the prints. With any luck, the group might still be close by. With his pace sped up, Derrick grinned brightly for a split second when he saw that the group was in the middle of what seemed to be a short break. <br><br>Jogging gently towards them, he stopped and walked the rest of the way before speaking clearly but keeping his tone down so that someone would hear <strong>"I really hope you all weren't waiting for me, that would be downright stupid."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>03-07-2010, 17:22:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh stayed quiet for a time, not wanting to overstep anyone as they spoke. Though she was allegedly the authoritarian voice in this situation, the others clearly had the know how to operate. Franka knew the lay of the land on a level that no satellites could, and Hackett simply knew best how to organize this seemingly ragtag group of mercenaries. She was about to speak up about what kind of condition she was in, but Derrick made his run back to the group and looked as cheeky as ever. <br><br>"Not quite here waiting for you as much as we were trying to think of our best course of action." Ashleigh shrugged, looking once at Franka and then at Hackett. "As far as I know, I'm just going to be following them."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>04-07-2010, 18:00:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem merely nodded silently at the conversation the other two held. He had already considered much of what both said and the idea of a safehouse was certailny appealing. Looking back from one to the next, he wondered what would happen next, hopefully there was a pond or a river along the way hwere they could use the water cleansing equipment and get cleaned up from the infected blood, he couldn't feel it on his skin, thanks to the suit, but he didn't dared to remove even his gloves either. The mask was useful but bothersome if worn for too long. <br><br>Turning around when Derrick spoke, he held a curse and after noticing Ashleigh ignored his question, he faced the man. "Actually I was hoping you had decided to follow your own agenda and left, but I see I am not that lucky." His glance went to Ashlegih again and he shrugged, deciding not to press the matter further, she would talk if she felt like it. He continued speaking before Derrick had the opportunity to answer. "We are moving, sorry if you don't have the opportunity to rest." <br><br>The dawn was beggining to brake, the night vision would be useless soon. He decided to take a last look around before they lost the advantage of high ground and flipped his night vision down. It was beginning to get blurry but the filters worked it out soon. He noticed a warmth mark below, near the river bed. It was different from the Infected and it seemed to be still. He flipped the safety of his weapon as well and pointed in that direction after turning the ngiht vision off. "There is a warm signal near the river bed, a few feet in that direction...It seems human, it might be Jake, should I check it out or leave it?" He was safe from biting and scratches from his 'armor' so he wasn't worried about getting close to someone that could be infected. Even less if he or she was alone. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>06-07-2010, 00:49:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anna had prepared to make her way across the river, until Derrick showed up. Initially, she raised her weapon towards him by instinct, but lowered it immediately as she recognized him and crouched down, looking back across the river bed and seeing Franka, then back to the group. "<strong>Well turn the wheels on Derrick, we've got a new RV to hit before sunrise and I'd rather get there before the Infected get curious again.</strong>" Hackett spoke in a quiet but understandable voice, considering the distance between Derrick and herself. "<strong>Lets move out people, Utem, stay with Ashleigh.</strong>" Anna whispered in a much more authorative voice, quietly creeping down the hill and sprinting across to the other side, running up the hill and crouching low at the top to avoid a silhouette of herself being visible.<br><br>At the top, Anna rejoined with Franka and crouched down near her, again careful to keep a respectful distance. She watched as everyone started to move, hearing Utem mentioning he'd found something. She rolled her eyes and tried to see, but couldn't from her position. "<strong>Fine, send Ashleigh over and go take a look. Be quick about it though, and no noise.</strong>" Anna replied to Utem, looking around with her weapon up and her attention focused entirely on covering the treeline on the other side, and the one around her, mostly looking for abnormal movement and ignoring any shapes. Dark trees and bushes could be made to look like anything, but they had a hard time learning to move like a prior human being, Anna had learned.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>06-07-2010, 23:56:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem nodded at Anna's orders and helped Ashleigh down the rocky riverbed and kept an eye on her as she went across towards Anna. "I will catch up soon!" He called before starting a light jog towards the heat signal he had seen, his gun raised in case it meant troubles. Reaching it was not too difficult, but trying to jog on the rocky terrain proved to be tricky. Still he managed and a few minutes later he was watching over Jake's body from a safe distance. "Hey Jake, are you alive?!" He called trying to find traces of blood on his clothes or skin, and waiting for him to reply or move. He aimed his gun at him, he didn't want to waste a bullet if it was unnecessary so he waited.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>09-07-2010, 04:19:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A while passed before Jake finally snapped awake. He tried to sit up, but then felt his head ache so he laid back down for a moment before slowly sitting up. He reached up, pulled his helmet off, and then rubbed his forehead, which only served to smear blood over his forehead. Jake sighed softly then was glad that it was only a scratch. In fact, his face felt pretty scratched up considering he'd had his helmet strapped on. "Fuck.." he mumbled, wincing again. In truth, his whole body ached from the fall. He then looked up and saw that he hadn't rolled too far down the hill, and thankfully there were no infected around. As he raised his right arm up, he winced again, then saw that part of his sleeve was torn, and he was bleeding. Jake then moved to stand up slowly, wincing as he did. After pulling his backpack off, he unzipped it, then rooted around in it before finding a gauze wrap. He cursed softly, but then figured that would have to do. He ripped off a good length then put the rest back in the bag and zipped it up.<br><br>Jake then set the bag down for a moment and knelt down so that he could pull his ripped sleeve back, then wrap the gauze around the injured area of his arm. He'd take a look at it later on, as now he needed to get moving again and try to find the group that he'd gotten separated from. Once it was all wrapped up, Jake stood back up, then slung his backpack over his shoulders before looking around for a moment before finding his rifle, unaware someone was coming up. He picked it up, then checked and thankfully it was still functional. At least it looked it. He didn't want to risk firing off a shot, just in case there were infected around, which he bet there were. He then took around and spotted a man aiming a rifle at him. Jake stopped, then nodded when he heard the man's voice. He vaguely recognized him as one of the team members. "A little bruised up, but I should be good," Jake called out, standing there for a moment before he started towards Utem.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>09-07-2010, 04:25:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Stop." said Utem holding his rifle up. "You have scratches and have some blood on them, if it is infected blood you will have a bullet in your head soon." He had a vaccine but it would be useless if it ad begun spreading already. He knew the transformation was usually fast so he waited. "Let's hope that is only your blood."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>10-07-2010, 07:00:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That Derrick had showed up again made Franka pull a face, luckily she lay with her back on him, so that the only one who might have noticed would be Hackett. He had proved such a ruthless, selfish bastard, caring so little about the group he had come with, the mission he had signed up for, that it scored against him in her book. Add to it that he seemed to have a hard time keeping his temper, had threatened Franka, showed no regard, consideration or gratitude for those who had risked everything to keep his kid safe for six long years under the worst of circumstances, and it was clear why never running into him again would hardly be felt as a loss by someone like Franka. <br><br>She returned her attention to the soldier who had crawled to her side, noticing again that she now kept her distance. Franka became increasingly comfortable around her, and increasingly curious about her. She peered over at the woman, trying to make out her face in the darkness slowly fading into a greyish, deep twilight,wondering what she might look like. Giving that up as a lost cause for now, she smiled about herself, her pointless curiosity, and whispered. "Probably just Jake. It's quiet all around. If there had been stinkers here, they'd have run to the noises and the light, into the woods. The fire's still burning, see? They'd see it from far away, and they can't resist it, they'll unfailingly head that way, running fast. Unless something else catches their attention, they always go for the light, and if something catches their attention, they also run, and make a hell of a noise." <br><br>She paused, to let Hackett take her time to listen to the silence, only interrupted by the birds waking up, rustling their feathers and chiming up with a few tentative trills and calls here and there. "Do you hear the birds everywhere? They fall silent when stinkers move about somewhere near. Crows are the only ones that will make a racket when stinkers come near, and they're very watchful. There's a colony right over there." She very slowly reached out an arm, keeping it close and parallel to the ground, to point at a group of trees, almost a forest en miniature about a kilometre to their left. "They'll warn us of anything coming that way."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>10-07-2010, 09:48:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick merely smirked lightly at Ashleigh before popping the magazine out of his rifle and carefully reloading it, wanting to ensure that he wouldn't run out of ammunition. Overconfidence had led to many a man being torn apart by the infected. The feelings of a good portion of the group read on their faces, but Derrick couldn't find himself caring. Hell they could all utterly hate him, but until he was able to get Jasmine back? He was going to stick around, especially to Franka.<br><br>He listened to her speak quietly, looking out into the woods as he kept his rifle at his hip. So far? This was moving along far more cleanly than he had anticipated it would. The next step would be to get into a city, and Derrick found himself wondering something. If the woods were like this, what would be the state of the city? Considering populations and number of infected. Though this was shaken off as Derrick sat down quietly and waited.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>10-07-2010, 23:42:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jake stopped when Utem held up his rifle. "It's not infected, don't worry. I cut myself when I fell down that damned hill," Jake replied as he nodded towards the hill which he'd fallen down however long ago. It must not have been too long, otherwise he doubted anyone from the group would have stopped. "Now if you'd mind pointing that thing somewhere else?" Jake said as he slung the rifle from around his shoulder before starting towards Utem again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>11-07-2010, 22:19:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Let's move they are waiting." Utem motioned to the group that was going across the riverbed. "It seems you are not infected afterall but I'd rather that you go in front of me." He pointed towards the other side of the riverbed, directly across from them. "Well cross here and then meet up with them ahead, it will be easier than trying to walk towards them across the rocks."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>15-07-2010, 16:39:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashleigh really couldn't bother herself with the mumbo-jumbo of zombie behaviour right now. Sure, it was her job to understand them, their mannerisms, and ultimately try and reverse the suffering of the last six years, but in no way is she going to do any of that now after having been blown off of her feet from explosions and being chased by the fuckers for the better part of an hour. <br><br>Heaving herself over the bank with Utem's help, the scientist tried to make the most of the ever-so-slowly diminishing light in the distance. Every now and again she could pick out the silhouette of a creature by the flames. Disturbing, to say the least. Not wanting to distract herself more than she already is, Ashleigh waited for Franka or Hackett to start leading the way so she could promptly follow. <br><br>Never has being surrounded by four walls sounded so appealing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>17-07-2010, 04:51:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=61852.msg3277170#msg3277170">Quote from: Leorobin on 11-07-2010, 22:19:08</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Let's move they are waiting." Utem motioned to the group that was going across the riverbed. "It seems you are not infected afterall but I'd rather that you go in front of me." He pointed towards the other side of the riverbed, directly across from them. "Well cross here and then meet up with them ahead, it will be easier than trying to walk towards them across the rocks."<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Jake nodded to Utem then started forwards again, walking past the other man. Jake was well used to working with others, but that was with people he'd known since basic training in the army all those years ago, then the people he'd met when he'd became an Army Ranger, then a Blackwater operative. Those were really the only people Jake had trusted, but then the damned plague had hit and any kind of loyalty had been thrown out the door about six months after being stuck somewhere in the middle of Germany. Jake had been forced to kill, otherwise he would have been killed.<br><br>Soon the two reached their destination, then crossed over the riverbed to wait for the rest of the group to catch up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>17-07-2010, 05:10:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett was growing impatient waiting for Utem to return, she didn't want to raise him on comms, but her time delay on waiting for him was growing thin. Her eyes were fixed on Ashleigh's face, trying to get a sense of where the young scientist was at, emotionally or mentally, things might grow out of control quickly. Hackett was nearing that time when decisions would be made that put everyone elses life in danger. She prefered to operate at night, but in company of qualified brothers in arms, not people she'd known for a day or less. And Franka was an uncalculated factor that far reached Hackett's initial mission lines. She was beginning to trust Franka, but experience taught her to never let her conscience or emotions dictate her actions. At least, thats what her tactical mind thought.<br><br>Checking her watch, Hackett frowned and looked back down into the riverbed, from her position she could clearly see Utem's IR strobe as he left, but nothing now. She glanced at Franka and then over her shoulder in the direction of the house. She wanted to get inside and let everyone else relax, she was a little more tense and this showed. She was crouched, but kept herself up high, instead of sitting on her leg, she was holding herself straight up, looking around frequently and checking her watch a little bit too often. The intensity was starting to show, as every action had an underlayer of aggression to it that spoke of the stress running through her veins. <br><br>Hackett was aware of her appearance, but didn't care. She had finally reached that point, and keyed her comms transmitter. "<strong>Utem, what is the fucking hold up? Put a move on it, soldier.</strong>" Hackett whispered, her voice dripping with agitation. Sitting out in the open like this was a dumbass idea. <br><br>Just then, she saw Utem's strobe reappear and he had someone else with him. "<strong>Disregard my last. Stop for a donut break?</strong>" Hackett looked at Franka and threw her thumb in the direction where Franka said the house was. "<strong>Let's get out'a here.</strong>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>21-07-2010, 17:15:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka lead them at a steady, fast pace, following the dried up river for about half an hour, then across empty fields, in the direction of Vinxel. They crossed a few streets, and the light seeping down, the eerie blueish grey light of the hours before dawn, showed them that even in these rural parts, things must have been fierce during the outbreak, cars had collided or stood abandoned, luggage had been dropped on the spot, many were open now, had spilled their rotting content, and bones, shards of glass and other litter lay strewn everywhere. <br><br>A few kilometres before Vinxel would have come into sight, Franka turned away from the course that would have led them there, back towards the wood. The landscape looked beautiful, peaceful, an idyllic postcard scenery, were it not for the traces of the catastrophe nobody had removed, the lack of any signs of human life or activities, which did not allow them to forget the infected, the constant danger, the doom that had raged, was threatening to become theirs. Nature clearly prospered, wild flora had conquered what once had been controlled by humans, mingling with the plants sowed and harvested on fields and meadows over decades. A chorus of birds sang out, deer could be spotted in the distance, hares and rabbits, all the animal life that habitually came out at dawn or near it, was roaming the fields and forests.<br><br>Franka was a cautious guide, ever watchful, and almost soundless, as soon as she could see enough. She never said a word, motioned, gestured, expected them to follow her example when she ducked, halted, waited. Whether it was her good instinct or their good luck, or both, they had to thank for, was hard to tell, but when it was a quarter to five, and light was spreading everywhere even though they were back inside the woods, they had reached their destination safely. It took a while for them to realise that this time, Franka had not come to a halt to check her surroundings, but that the mass of brambles and ivy that they could make out in the vast clearing they had just reached must be the outer wall she had mentioned.<br><br>Sure enough, she whispered."I'll have to let myself in through the emergency door, but it'd be nonsense for all of us to scramble and squeeze our way in through those brambles. The real entrance is over there." She pointed. "Wait till I open it and signal it's safe to come in."<br><br>Without waiting for an answer, she left, soon disappearing in the shadow of the trees, her binoculars once more used frequently to scan everything. They saw her climb a tree, fast, and high up, she must have checked what she could from the area inside the wall's confinements. Apparently contented, she came down again, then disappeared behind the corner of the wall, and was out of sight. Minutes crawled by, five, ten, fifteen, twenty.&nbsp; Then, there was a rustle of leaves at the spot she had indicated, and seconds later, Franka squeezed through a thicket of ivy. <br><br>She looked in their direction, held up her thumb, motioned for them to join her. She no longer wore the leather protection around her neck and arms, nor her leather jacket or her rucksack. She looked much thinner in that tight, sleeveless top. Her blood streaked, unprotected long neck, bare shoulders and sinewy arms clearly demonstrated how safe everything was in her opinion, more clearly than her relaxed posture or the thumbs up she had given them. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>21-07-2010, 18:18:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i183.photobucket.com/albums/x111/Lammy519/Models/Girl7/678909876.jpg)</div>The trek to... wherever they were going, was rather uneventful. Ashleigh never thought she would have come to appreciate nothing happening for the next few hours save for following Franka through what was essentially a wasteland. The entire time, the young scientist walks in pace with with Hackett and their guide, thinking that they were the only two without some sort of ulterior motive. Sure, one could say that Franka could be leading them into a trap where she would scalp them, lock them up in a sort of freezer, and be happy that she managed to salvage a few weapons for herself, but that's just being incredibly pessimistic.<br><br>The wreckage, the blatant havoc that has befallen most of Europe was evident. Ashleigh had to resist the urge to simply look away from the outlines of bones long gone shapes of life. This would likely be the most tame of images that she would be seeing in her time here. On the plus side, Mother Nature had come back in full force, as if to claim what was originally hers. A chilling thought in hindsight, but for now, young woman appreciated it. <br><br>As they walked from from the riverbed to this hideout, Ashleigh lazily had her silenced pistol drawn, holding it loosely in her right hand with every step. It wasn't the lightest thing in the world, but never put Ashleigh behind any of the others in this little marching band. Before she even knew it, the group had arrived at a building covered in lush greenery. Well, it was a wall covered in lush greenery, but no doubt that the building they were all hoping for was beyond that. <br><br>With a few quiet words, Franka sped off around the wall to emerge later on behind it. Ashleigh wasted no time following the green light that the 'native' of the area gave them and rushed toward the wall. Following Franka's lead, Ashleigh replaced her pistol in the holster on her right thigh, then unzipped the front of her cumbersome flight suit. Not having a change of clothes on hand, she made sure to only undo the suit halfway, leaving her with her white tank top underneath. Next off came her helmet, revealing to the group a messy blond bun on the top of Ashleigh's head, much unlike the flowing tresses that they had met her in.<br><br><br>Not wanting to step over any toes, Ashleigh remained quiet. Her thinking was that she wasn't going to be the one to announce that this was all safe and sound only to have the mindless creatures burst out from underneath them, clawing at their legs until they fell to their knees. Once everyone was inside, all she wanted to do was unload all of the light tools that she had along her belt and packs, rest, and perhaps figure out where they stand in terms of completing their objective. She was sure no one wanted to stay here long than they needed to.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>22-07-2010, 09:30:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett stuck close to Franka on the journey from the riverbed to the so-called 'house'. She was cautious, of Franka and Derrick, even the newest arrival, the guy from the plane for whom she didn't remember a name. But mainly, she watched out for the infected and for Ashleigh. Even if it were a lot to think about, Hackett seemed totally disinterested in the internal politics that were splitting the group, or at least in her mind they were. Derrick and his revealed motives, Franka came with all sorts of tough choices, and Hackett being so tired after that brief battle, she was normally a wreck and wrath to be around, but today she was just distant. Staring off, her head was moving alot as were her eyes. It actually made her laugh to herself, at one point, the 3 ladies were in front and the guys followed behind. Irony had many forms, this felt like one for some reason, not because Utem or Derrick had posted themselves as the alpha male, but it was odd in comparison to the world she was used to.<br><br>In the back of her mind, Hackett almost envisioned a scooby doo episode, everyone walking in a straight line, some hunched over moving quickly like Franka, and others like Hackett moving quietly without really trying, all of them off to solve one great mystery. In the forest it was hard to move silently, but well placed footing could do a lot of work in making one invisible to the enemy, invisible by other means. In the front of her mind, Hackett debated the next move. They had food, water and if Franka came through, shelter. Now came the issue, what to do with the plane man, Franka and Derrick. She trusted Utem, definitely trusted Ashleigh, and had to admit Franka had proven herself trustworthy, and if it weren't for Hackett's reservations about this place, she might have considered her as someone to keep in confidence. Truely, the issue was what Ashleigh needed to do. That was the key thing Hackett didn't know, nor understand. And what Ashleigh needed for her research would dictate their lives for the next few weeks. <br><br>The trip itself was quiet, which Hackett simply loved. After that brief skirmish with the infected, Hackett worried about increased resistance moving through the farmlands, but they never even did that. Franka was a pretty good, no, damn good navigator and guide. Hackett was thankful she hadn't managed to drive the woman off, and honestly felt a tinge of regret in treating her so harshly. She was used to being distant with civilians, and always did so on mission. But Franka had been very helpful, to the point Hackett might even apologize. Might... very, very unlikely but still. Hackett had her reputation, and of course needed to appear solid for everyone else, morale booster as it were. It worked with her team, the unit leader was iron and everyone else blended well, it was an environment where you felt invincible. Not personally, Hackett didn't fear death, but it was a sensation that felt like luck, literally, like there was no mission her team couldn't do. She wasn't with her team, however, and this made her feel naked.<br><br>Upon reaching the house, or more specifically, where Franka said the house was, Hackett stopped, crouched and faced Utem. "<strong>Alright, you go, get us in. Utem, cover the east, plane boy...</strong>" Hackett looked at the man. "<strong>If your not jelly headed by that brain knocker you got there, cover the south. I got north, Derrick take west. Spread out a little, but stay tight. Call contacts, do not engage unless your spotted.</strong>" Hackett looked at her watch as Franka left them.<br><br>She sat down in the bush, not expecting an actual attack but took off her night vision and packed it, then her helmet. Her shoulder length hair flowed out and down over her shoulders, briefly as she just wanted to get some air to her head, the helmet head was itching like crazy. Hackett used her arm, free of blood, to force her hair back up and smothered it with her helmet, leaving the strap undone. Her face paint had mostly vanished, leaving just a dirty looking face in its wake. And so the waiting game worked its magic, Hackett waiting for Franka to return, all the while, studying a map and thinking up contingency plans. If things went badly, if Franka weren't truthful or something happened to her, Hackett was prepared for the manouver to Vinxel without a guide. Much more dangerous, as her intuition told her, but necessary. Her fears were put to rest, and she had plenty of patience left to spare as Franka reappeared.<br><br>"<strong>Lets move.</strong>" Hackett spoke over the radio to the others, reorienting herself and making the short journey to regroup with Franka at the outer wall.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>23-07-2010, 00:51:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick had remained silent during the trek, he showed no signs of fatigue or weariness. The desire to be reunited with Jasmine pushed his endurance and stamina to unheard levels. During the relatively peaceful trek, he seemed to be in another place entirely. Wondering what she'd been doing for all of these years and how well she'd even be able to remember him. Would he be like some spectre in her past? Unseen, unheard? It was an ugly feeling, but it'd be dealt with when the time came. <br><br>Eventually they reached their destination and Derrick put his game face on. When Hackett started barking out orders as usual, he merely narrowed his eyes slightly and spoke sarcastically <strong>"Would you like fries with that order too, darlin'?"</strong> Before slinging his rifle over his shoulder, and heading west of the building. This needed to be done silently. With the silence of a large cat, Derrick reached his position and scoped it out. Not discovering any of the infected, and making sure he checked out the perimeter once more before he spoke gently into his communicator. <strong>"All clear on this end."</strong> Somehow in this relaxed state, his natural accent managed to slip out a little which he caught and quickly reverted to his more Americanized tone <strong>"Proceeding forward."</strong><br><br>Slowly advancing forward, Derrick breathed softly and moved lightly as he wasn't the type to let his guard down. Even if there weren't seemingly any roamers in the area, all they needed for was one to be roaming to bring down a herd on their heads. If that were to happen? Well, it was best not to think about that. The forest had been ugly enough. He told himself that he was just being paranoid, yet it was that inability to truly be at ease that would serve him well. Still, Derrick was growing weary of this assignment. It was bringing back too many bloody memories, and this was the sort of life he had long tried to escape. In a perfect world, hell any world but this shit hole? He wouldn't have to be slinging his gun around. Jasmine would be at school right now, and Derrick would be working. Teaching his students and going to pick her up. However this thought at this point in time was impossible. If they actually managed to pull this off? The world wouldn't magically go back to the way it was. Hell, it wouldn't begin to reach some semblance of order until after his death more than likely.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gravik</strong> on <strong>25-07-2010, 08:31:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://mimg.ugo.com/200909/23727/cuts/jeremy_288x288.jpg)Jake looked down at the helmet he was carrying in his left hand. Once Utem and Jake had crossed across the riverbed and to the other side where the others were, Jake stopped for a moment then peeled the night vision off of his beat up helmet, then unzipped his bag and put it in. He zipped his bag back then slung it back over his shoulders. He then tossed the helmet into the river bed, seeing that he had no use for the beat up helmet any longer. Perhaps along the way somewhere he would be able to acquire a new helmet, not that he really needed one. His night vision had looked like it had gotten fucked up as well from the fall he'd sustained, but he'd check it out later on when they were behind the safety of the safehouse walls. <br><br>Jake followed after the group as they started off towards an apparent safe house. Once they were close to the safe house, Jake heard the woman, Hackett he recalled was her name, calling out orders. Jake nodded when she said for him to cover the South. He was still slightly shaken, and he had a nasty headache still. But he just shrugged it off as he made his way towards thr south part of the building. Jake scanned the surroundings for infected, not spotting any within his view of sight. He went back and forth along the side of the building a couple of times, not spotting anything of interest, or anything that might be of threat to the group. "Nothing of interest in this direction," Jake called out, loud enough so that the others could hear. Jake then turned and began to make his way back towards where the main entrance where Franka said the rest of the group would be able to get in.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 00:17:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka meanwhile had found the time to check the grounds and house, all was as it should be, and a glance on the display of the surveillance cameras that were always working, fed by solar energy, and covered not only the area close to the outer walls, but a good stretch of land beyond it, told her that no alarm had been raised, no human activity, infected or not, been noted by the cameras prior to the groups arrival, since last the had been here two weeks ago. Therefore, she had checked the water for sufficiency and quality, found another very satisfying result there, and had switched on the power that would grant them hot water within minutes. On her way out, she had dropped the rucksack, jacket and leather protections, knowing she would, for once, not need them, and had hurried to open the three gates for the team to come in. <br><br>When the last of them had slipped inside the confinement, she pulled close the ivory curtain and shut the door, arming it with a pin code to make sure none could open the door without the others learning of it. She gave Ashleigh, who looked perhaps more shattered and worn out than the rest of them, a reassuring smile, then motioned towards the door in the second wall, fifty metres to their left. It stood wide open, another sign of Franka being entirely sure there was no danger to be feared, now. "It's all clear, inside and out, there's been no suspicious activity in the past weeks, the camera's would have registered that, and we've got enough energy to cook and such, and hot water for everybody." <br><br>She lead them through the second door, shut and armed it behind them, then indicated the gate opening in the high meshwire fence that was the last barrier between them and the house. Coils of barbed wire protected it, metal spikes could be seen protruding from the ground near it, and once more, it was time for the team to follow Franka in single file to make sure they would not step on anything they would better avoid. Then, she closed this last gate, securing it with a chain, and they stood on the winding path leading to the house through the a park. It had been beautiful once, and its closeness to what nature might have designed herself, even after six years of neglect and overgrowth, allowed it to keep most of its former appearance while adding a touch of wilderness that only increased its peaceful, yes, romantic air. <br><br>In the midst of it, shaded from view by high trees, it's doors and windows behind thick metal plates that bled rust over the once beautiful façade, stood the building. In style, it looked far older than it was, a manor or villa rather than a simple house, there must have been considerable money in the family owning it. Through the park they went, towards the stairs leading to the terrace, past weed invaded flowerbeds and an overgrown herb garden. Soon, they were close enough to the giant metal plate and French window opening towards them to let them see how complete the darkness inside the building was. Franka headed straight for it, apparently unconcerned. She was aware what fears of being ambushed, of walking into a trap might rise in some of the team's members, but there was no helping it, only searching the whole house would probably reassure some of them.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>11-08-2010, 07:30:35</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Nah, they were too expensive..." Utem pulled himself over the edge of the river bed and looked at the others, hopefully they would get a safe place to rest soon. It was clear most needed it, heck, all of them needed it. He straightened his rifle so it would be on his side and began moving, following the three women. His priority was still Ashleigh's safety, since it was the mission, but he would do what he could to keep the team safe. He had his reserves on Jake, but he seemed to have had his share of the infected. So he might be useful. Derrick...No, he could get eaten for what he cared. He chuckled silently at the idea and shook his head. <br><br>Utem remained alert and ready, a finger lined along the body of the rifle and close to the trigger. He could feel the tingling sensation returning to his legs, he was tired and the bags were beginning to feel heavy. He adjusted the straps of both and kept on walking at the same pace and careful not to step on a branch, moving as silently as possible. <br><br>The view was somewhat relaxing. The wilderness and the sounds of the forest almost got him to relax, almost. Danger was looming over them and he was well aware of it. The feeling of calmness that the wilderness conveyed seemed to him like the sweet scent of rotting meat that drew the flies to the Venus flytrap. Certainly not a poetic comparison but it was quite accurate for their position. His eyes wandered to Ashleigh and then Franka. Ashleigh had been quite shaken before, he wondered how she was faring now. Franka, on the other hand, felt all this like an everyday routine. She was clearly not the type of woman that would let anything get in her way to get what she wanted. This could be a trap to ensure weapons and supplies for the survivors. Still, it was a risk worth taking, if there was a place to rest and supplies, they would need it. <br><br>His head worked on auto for the rest of the trek and when he was aware of it, they were already inside the area overlooking the house. He found a mental note on the architecture and another on getting both Franka and Jake, the idiot had spoken outloud, a functional comm device. He dropped the bags and took four bottle with a spray head on them and after applying one on his gloves and the bottles, handed one to Hackett, Ashleigh and Derrick. "Use these before removing your gear, it is supposed to kill anything that remains on the blood splatter. It has about 10 to 15 uses for a layer on all the body." He crumpled a note that came with them, he had worked on the formula when he was on the research area so it was most likely something he had written or helped write. It was mostly hydrogen peroxide and other agents, something you could prepare withthings bought on a pharmacy. He sprayed himself all over, when it touched the droplets of blood they sizzled and bubbled before losing all color.<br><br>Once satisfied he stored his bottle on one of the bags and picked one on each hand, pushing the rifle to his back. "Where to now?" He asked deciding to trust this was not a trap.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>15-08-2010, 07:35:05</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett followed behind Franka, moving throught he various walls and defensive parts of the home before actually reaching the main doors. Hesitantly, Hackett followed Franka inside, flipping on the light at the end of her weapon and shining it about, looking for anything that was trying to use the darkness as an ambush opportunity. Right now, she didn't honestly believe Frank would go through all this trouble just to lead the group to this ambush, but being sure was paramount for Hackett to effectively take the next step. Once they were all inside, Hackett sort of lowered her weapon, but her eyes had that focused look, they didn't move much, but her head was constantly moving around, as was the light from her rifle. Every direction was checked, though as they moved inside Hackett seemed to ease down a little more, more and more every moment something didn't happen.<br><br>Lowering her weapon so it was pointed at the ground, she accepted the bottle from Utem and doused herself in it haphazardly, hardly paying much attention to anything but her chest, neck, back arms and hands. The sizzling and subsequent smell was noteworthy enough for Hackett to scrunch her nose, but otherwise her eyes steeled on Derrick, her mind fighting on what to do with him. Once the bottle had done whatever it did, Hackett took off her helmet and balaclava, shaking her head and tossing her hair about. She set both down on a table and looked around once more, fixing her eyes on Ashleigh and then Utem. <em>"Where to now?"</em> she heard him ask, and she nodded.<br><br>"<strong>First thing is making sure this building is secure.</strong>" Hackett looked at Franka briefly then to Ashleigh. "<strong>Second is de Jong getting her necessities set up and then we'll focus on our overall objective. I, in the mean time, will be relaying what we know now to J-SOC(Joint Special Operations Command) and receiving updated orders on any survivors. Current ROE allows lethal force on any subject not in direct cooperation with our mission, which is anyone who says no or tries to run. I wouldn't expect that to come to happening, but I'd rather be safe. We weren't expecting humans to still be here.</strong>" Hackett took her rifle off and set it down on the table, releasing her pack by its straps from her back, and setting it on the table. She took off her flight suit, revealing a black BDU underneath. She rolled up the suit and tossed it across the room, turning back to the group.<br><br>"<strong>Thirdly, we'll need to organize... buddy systems. I don't want any of us going around alone, and... I'm sorry to say this Franka, but...</strong>" Hackett turned to the girl. "<strong>... I can't let you move about on your own, it's not that I don't trust you now, but I don't trust people you might go meet or run into should you leave. Also, your too valuable to leave alone, your knowledge of the area and the Infected will greatly help the mission.</strong>" Hackett glanced to Derrick and then the other man, still not knowing his god damn name. "<strong>You two... I don't know you.</strong>" She pointed to Jake, looking then at Derrick. "<strong>But you, don't think I've forgotten the fact you don't give a shit about us. Consider yourself lucky I prefer an extra gun to wasting a bullet.</strong>" Hackett stepped close to Derrick. "<strong>But if you fuck with this mission again, there will be shit to pay.</strong>"<br><br>With that, Hackett stepped back, her glare only leaving Derrick as she approached the table again and unzipped her pack, pulling out a large laptop with a headset on it and then a small dish, almost like a satellite dish, but it was oddly shaped and had a small pole jutting out from the middle, but it was collapsed in. She turned around and leaned back against the table. "<strong>So, we'll clear the building and in the meantime, Ashleigh tell Utem or myself if you need anything to set up your... lab, whatever it is. Utem, stay with Ashleigh. Plane man, I don't know your name but you've got this floor, Derrick any below us and I'll take any above. Sweep and clear all rooms, if you find anything, use your judgement.</strong>" Hackett looked at Franka, then up at the ceiling. She still didn't know what Ashleigh needed to do, maybe it would be wise to ask at some point, though Hackett doubted she could understand all that science stuff.<br><br>Hackett spun around picked up her weapon, motioning for everyone to go off and do their thing. As she moved, Hackett looked straight at Franka and motioned for her to follow. They had a few things to discuss.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>15-08-2010, 08:37:14</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick rolled his eyes and started to douse off all of the exposed areas. Maintaining a small little smile as he listened to Hackett. She was definitely working his nerves, by the book people? They lacked in imagination, and that was just the tip of the iceberg in regards to his beef with them. However he merely crossed his arms over his chest and waited until she was finished speaking. Crossing over to her for a moment and whispering lowly so only she would hear, <strong>"I take it you don't have children? Or you haven't had children? If it meant I'd be reunited with my daughter again? I'd chop everyone in this building up into bits and not lose any sleep over it. My commitment is to my daughter first, and if you have a problem with that? I suggest that you put a bullet in my head right now. Because your little threats? Don't mean shit. So either grow a pair and do me here, or kindly shut the fuck up, Hackett." </strong> His tone dropping a little at the last statement and her name came out in a short growl. His eyes were narrowed and he didn't make a move towards any of his weapons. However that smile quickly returned to his face and he merely flipped her the bird before walking away and making his way towards Franka.<br><br>Gently placing his hand on her arm, he took a small breath and said <strong>"A moment of your time, please?"</strong> He needed to clear the air between them. In regards to the "team" Derrick couldn't care less about Hackett, had to suppress the urge to remove Utem's head from his shoulders. He knew nothing about the other soldier, and was somewhat fond of Ashleigh. Enough that he would speak to her later about everything, however Franka was the vital one. The information she had? And the good she had done for Jasmine? It meant a lot to him.&nbsp; Pausing for a second, he spoke softly <strong>"I owe you an apology. I'm sorry about my behavior towards you earlier. You just can't begin to know what Jasmine means to me. You were there for her, and for that I owe you a great deal."</strong> Biting his lip gently as he looked over towards one of the walls for a moment. Taking in another breath as he tried to find the words to express the storm of emotions he felt.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 00:17:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				When all had entered the house, Franka had closed the door and metal protection behind them, and for a moment, there had been complete darkness, except for a tiny green light that turned on as soon as the locks had fallen into place. "Shield your eyes, I'll switch on the lights... Careful - now!" From the ceiling, it poured down, bright and warm, almost glaring, until their eyes had adjusted. For the first time since they had landed, they could see everything clearly, Franka inclusive. She had a small, tanned, freckled face with an upturned nose, light green eyes, a generous mouth, it looked quite like that of a cute, pretty doll such as a small girl might carry around.<br><br>It was framed by short brown curls, most of them still wet, and in places, sticky with blood. From there, drops of pink tinted water ran over her long neck, that looked oddly fragile without it's protective collar, rather dirty, and scarred, her shoulders and sinewy arms, by the teeth and hands of raging infected. Without her thick leather jacket, it showed how light of built she was, quite thin, with the muscles of a long distance runner crossed with a gymnast. She wore no bra, her breasts, a generous B-cup, were so high and firm under her top that the lack of proper underwear was only noticeable because no straps showed anywhere.<br><br>She did not leave the group or do anything but see them settle in, look around, and watch and listen while Hackett peeled out of her suite and explained what they should do next. "Just mind that you don't break anything, and don't snoop around - this place belongs to people who are still alive, and care about such things." She warned them, in a friendly tone, not intending to be rude, but afraid they might be tempted to forget that in a country as destroyed as this, there were still people who called it home, and to whom it matter how their possessions were treated. <br><br>When Derrick approached Hackett, she frowned. She could read enough of the body language and facial expression of these two, and of the situation as a whole, after Hackett's words, to know there was no love lost between them. She caught Hackett's eyes and frowned when it would appear she would have to run all over the place and hold some conversation with Hackett before she could finally get the hot shower she had been craving for hours. She was tired, beginning to feel stiff and cold with exertion, lack of sleep, and hunger, and was smeared with blood, infected and her own. <br><br>But she nodded and set into motion, only to find Derrick in her way, touching her arm. He felt her sinewy muscles grow tense, cold, surprisingly soft skin, a few scars, an unwilling shudder. For a moment, as she moved her arm away, her eyes were hard and distrustful, then, she relaxed, and nodded, raised a hand to indicate to Hackett to wait, before turning her serious eyes onto Derrick's. She accepted his apology with a nod, then spoke softly. Her British accent emphasised her restraint, the impersonal compassion and rational analysis of one who doesn't want to be emotionally involved.<br><br>"Every day, you've cursed whatever separated you, asked yourself where she could be, was she dead, infected, alive, in danger, ill, scared, hurt, hungry, crying for her dad, and it tore you apart not to know, not to be there. You'd do the craziest things just to get to her. I've seen it hundreds of times, Derrick, and what it leads to. That's why I want you to calm down, think, plan. You care shite for your team, and were a fool to show it, 'cause you'll need them all to protect her. I want her out of here, too. I just don't want her dead, or stuck here after seeing her dad die and God knows what. If you think what you've been through was hell, guess what it will be like if your attempt to rescue her is what gets her killed."<br><br>Dismissing him from her intensive gaze, she peered over at the soldier. Who would first claim her presence, an impatient Hackett, or Derrick insisting they weren't done talking? She hoped it would be Hackett, so she could get away from the man whose emotions were intense, close to the surface, always ready to boil over. She knew his feelings, anger, hurt, determination, and because she did, she wanted nothing to do with them. It was hard enough to cope with her own feelings for those she had let come too close. Like Jasmine, who she'd never see again if they were successful. God, she wanted a hot shower! "Say, Hackett, would you mind having that talk while we clean ourselves up? There's a bathroom with two showers and a tub on every floor..."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 04:51:16</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Utem went inside and placed both his bags against a wall, making sure there were no puddles of collected blood or dry stains of it. He looked around the room with interest, he had seen buildings like these a few times but he was surprised at seeing such settlement so far into the woods. Someone certainly valued his privacy. He took out a booklet from one of the bags and began scribbling over notes, taking out what they had used already, including the ammunition he had spent. He looked up when Hackett began giving orders so he nodded and placed the booklet away "Yes, ma'am." <br><br>He smiled under his mask looking at both Franka and Hackett now with their suits off, Hackett was certainly what he had expected, Franka he didn't knew what to expect, but he was mostly amused. Scars had never been quite off putting for him, so he didn't really minded them. In all, it was a welcoming sight after everything that had happened. Derrick's words knocked off what he had already begun to relax. "Damnit, Hackett give the order and I'll take the shot. He clearly qualifies under not in direct cooperation with our mission. He has even treated with killing us." His hand slipped to his unfastened gun holster, it had remained like that for a while now. He knew it had still a few bullets in the clips and if they weren't enough there were more in the rifle. "I don't know what kind of idiot would send him here without a background check..." He muttered more to himself as he rolled his eyes, although that gesture wouldn't be noticed. <br><br>Utem looked from Hackett to Franka as the first talked about searching the building and the other dropped the warning about other people's personal effects. He remained in though for a moment before speaking. "Plane man's name is Jake if I'm not mistaken. Now regarding to searching the building, if you have a floor plan of it and the rooms, we could mark which are inhabited and which don't. That way we'll know if we are going into someones room. I believe you mentioned the house to be empty..." He looked at Franka as he spoke, checking for a positive answer. He waited until she had finished talking with Derrick before going on. <br><br>"I think it would be wise to check for others inside the house, but we shouldn't fire on sight unless they pose a clear threat. Again, try to incapacitate but not kill." They had few medical equipment but he was sure he could threat a bullet wound, he had enough field experience on that. He took of his helmet and pulled off the balaclava before taking a deep breath, glad to feel the actual air and not the one that was filtered though his helmet. He ruffled his hair and began taking off the padded armor until he was only in a pair of black cargo pants and a tight long sleeved shirt that outlined his toned body. He was defined but not bulky, close to a martial artist's body build. Strong but agile. He took his hand gun holsters and placed them around his waist.<br><br>He looked over his shoulder as Franka spoke. "If she doesn't take up the offer I will."&nbsp; He chuckled and began storing everything he had removed in a&nbsp; bag, in a set order that only he would know sort out. He stretched and tested his muscles and joints, some where still sore but they felt good now that they were loose. He knew that it was unlikely that Hackett would refuse, since she had been the one that had motioned for Franka to speak with her. Either way, he moved towards Ashleigh and grinned. "Seems will be around each other for the rest of the mission. I would appreciate if you'dmake me a list of what you need so we can see what we have and what we have to find somehow." He gestured towards the two large bags he had been carrying around, they had a lot of gear that had been recommended for them and some he had asked for.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>26-08-2010, 19:00:46</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett had taken to the side of the room, away from everyone, as Derrick and Franka talked she waved her hand to Utem and approached. "<strong>Belay that, he isn't worth the bullet.</strong>" Hackett said as she approached. Her eyes lingered on Derrick, hard and cold, but once back to Utem she lightened though the agitation in her mind was obvious. Her attention now turned to Jake, and she let her weapon hang freely from its sling. "<strong>Nice to meet you Jake, I'm Petty Officer Anna Hackett, US Navy. I'm sorry introductions weren't earlier, but I'm sure you can understand the relative difference between out there and in here. If your hurt, I'm a naval Corpsman so once we've secured the building I'll tend to your wounds.</strong>" Hopefully he wasn't a carrier, but then again she didn't know how the virus worked, that wasn't her concern. She watched him, Jake, for a few moments... seemingly interested but distantly so, her eyes were always moving, anyone who was around her for a while got the sense she was paranoid. In reality, she was like this because of her life, and in her mind she was thinking about Franka, wondering what to do with her. She put he mission at risk just by being here, her alliance was hard to pin down. Utem seemed loyal to the mission as did Ashleigh, Jake was one big unknown and Franka.... had no damn reason to care for any of them, and many reasons to care for Derrick's child.<br><br>Hackett hated these missions, where things got complicated. More and more often since the outbreak of the virus things were complicated. Civilians, tough ones like Franka, always complicated the mission. The care and determination to protect Ashleigh and her job were being fragmented by the presence of people Hackett couldn't trust, and as it stood, she had fewer confirmed allies than potential hostiles. She chuckled, seemingly at nothing, at the idea that Derrick and Franka might be 'hostiles', akin to an insurgent with an AK-47 and the willingness to use it. It made her grin, the irony at least, but something in the back of her mind was ready to snap. She had a job to do, and her entire existance as a SEAL and as a human was conflicted. One was created to kill, efficiently and without mercy, anyone who stepped into her path or risked her life, team or mission. But the human side of her felt such... sadness for what Franka and those like her had been forced to go through, she wanted to whisk these people out of here and out of this hell hole, somewhere nice... peaceful, back not to the way things were, but how they should be. But that was unrealistically conflicted with the soldier in her. Hackett wanted to go insane.<br><br>With that, she turned her attention Utem, flashing a brief smile at Ashleigh before dragging Utem away. "<strong>I'm beginning to lose faith in Derrick.</strong>" She casually looked at her weapon and then back up at Utem, her gaze unwaivering despite what she was about to say. "<strong>I didn't know he had a kid, let alone one here. But that doesn't matter. He's shown he'll betray us for his kid, so I don't want him leaving this building.</strong>" Hackett grabbed her rifle and nodded her head towards Franka, locking eyes with her, and Derrick. "<strong>If he tries anything.... kill him.</strong>" Hackett whispered so quietly, she swore Utem wouldn't even hear her. She steeled her gaze on him, the conflict she felt on possibly killing a teammate made her stomach twist and turn, she wondered if he felt the same. Regardless, the mission stood, Hackett didn't trust anything beyond these walls and in the back of her mind, there wasn't much she could trust inside either.<br><br>Turning to Franka, Hackett nodded and followed along side her, turning to face the rest of the group. "<strong>Alright, Jake, take the upstairs. Franka and I will clear this floor. Lets motor people, get your jobs done and we'll allocate long term tasking, and get some fucking rest.</strong>" Hackett grinned, her eyes going cold on Derrick as she turned and followed Franka.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>26-08-2010, 19:45:32</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick let Franka go, and made his way over to one of the walls. Crouching down gently before taking a seat, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Him and the group presently had an equal dislike in regards to one another, but he had to stay close to Franka and ensured she stayed alive. Hell, he had a nagging urge to do the right thing and try to see the mission through. Jasmine was always the endgame, but despite his general apathy he knew he couldn't bring her out of relative safety until things somehow made sense. Putting a hand to his head, he leaned it back and took in a small breath. Watching Hackett for a second before smirking. That woman infuriated him to no ends. Her dedication to living by the book. She had a strength to her, but she was trying too hard to be the good soldier. That was impossible in this world, she'd learn one way or another.<br><br>Still, the news that Jasmine's mother died? It finally hit him right there, it felt like a kick to the stomach. He had always thought he would outlive her, yet apparently he was proven wrong. Franka had become a surrogate mother to his daughter, that meant something to Derrick. Good people still existed on the planet, too bad he wasn't one of them. Everytime he held Jasmine, it didn't feel right. The blood he had on his hands, the horrible things he was responsible for? Derrick took a look around, and knew that everyone in the room was definitely uneasy regarding him. He was unpreditable a wild card. How far had he fallen since the outbreak?
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 15:53:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Franka had promised, there were no others in the house. It must once have been a wonderful place to live in for that family with their four children, two young teenage boys, and two kids of maybe four or six, one of them a girl, at least that was what the pictures showed that still hung here and there. The mother was a tall woman with a mane of blond curls, an air of energy, the father, even taller, was dark haired and balding, with kind eyes, a lanky look. His long, slender fingers seemed made for delicate work. Pictures usually showed the mother out in the garden, digging, chopping wood, physically active, often with her boys, and the father reading, cooking, or bent over small objects. The kids were attractive, all of them, the daughter delicate like an elf, with her mother's fair curls and her father's dreamy eyes. <br><br>The kitchen and most rooms of the ground floor seemed to have changed little since the house had become a safe harbour for a group of survivors, only rooms that had been for guests or storage had changed significantly, piles of mattresses wrapped in plastic and frames for beds were crammed into a room that must once have been used for little more than ironing, a storage room was full to the brim with sacks of wheat and beans, a wild assortment of jars and cans. Indeed, a lot of hoarding had gone on, from washing powder over toothbrushes to batteries, nails and screws, whatever was useful and would keep, was stacked somewhere, the entire cellar, half the attic, and several rooms bore witness to that new habit. Some of the former guest rooms had apparently become people's bedrooms, here and there, personal items, pictures, a bag with a name tag, a book, and the general atmosphere gave it the feel of belonging to someone particular rather than awaiting whoever might want to sleep in it. <br><br>One room held nothing but a table with several notebooks. It's walls were plastered with photographs, drawings, poems, small items, a ring, a wristwatch, some token or other that must have belonged to someone known, liked, loved, maybe, certainly remembered, for there were names and names, everywhere, hundreds of names, dates of birth, of death, or with a blank spot that might still be stared at with hope, still, by someone who would not give up waiting. Who had they been, all these people, and who kept their memories alive, came to pray, cry, seek communication, the way mourners did at the graves of beloved? Looking closely, one could find Franka's corner. Over thirty names and a few pictures for her family alone, a picture of her best friends, taken while mountaineering in the Alps, in which her first and only love hugged her, a young man in his early twenties, then, tanned, toned, with short, light brown hair and bright blue eyes. A picture of Derrick and his wife hung in the room, too.<br><br><br><div align="center">*************************</div><br><br>Franka laughed at Utem's comment. "You wish! You can have a shower with Derrick here, to cool off or let the warmth loosen you up a bit, whatever you need most." She stuck out her tongue, grinning broadly, then walked past Hackett to have the soldier follow her, gun in hand, no doubt, ready to fire a bullet into her back as soon as she felt betrayed. Moving noiselessly over the expensive wooden floor, Franka opened every door, switched on the light, proved it was empty, held no dangers, that the windows were secure, and moved on, the library with its endless rows of books, from floor to ceiling, a room with a sofa and some armchairs, with a piano and several other instruments, guest rooms, a room next to the kitchen with a long table, most of the furniture and carpets were antiques, costly, but everything showed taste, care, had been lived in, used, loved. <br><br>Room after room was opened for inspection. Franka did not speak once, only when she opened the last door to a generous bathroom with its two showers and tub she looked at Hackett. "So - can we have that talk you wanted while I get cleaned up, or must it wait till after your - allocation of long term tasking?" It sounded not exactly gruff, resigned, rather. Her face, voice and motions betrayed tiredness, the wish to be left alone, perhaps. Small rivulets from her wet and bloody hair had begun to soak her top, the stench of Infected clung to her, bloody crusts and dark smears on her neck and arms stood out next to scratches and blue and red marks from the recent fights. "Look, I really want to get that filth off me. You people keep touching me, no matter how often I tell you not to, it's a hell of a stupid risk."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>20-09-2010, 01:18:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				With a nod of acknowledgment to Utem and a smile of assurance to Ashleigh, Hackett spun on her heels to follow Franka into the house. Rightfully so, her rifle was up, her finger extended outside of the trigger guard but ready to snap to at the first second of trouble. Her forward, left hand, gripping the foregrip of her HK416 and her posture, totally professional. She was one in a million, but inreality she was one in a few thousand across the world. The only thing separating her from her male comrades was her size and hair, voice and looks. Hackett followed Franka down a hallway, and the young woman began to open doors and show the rooms. Hackett smirked a little, nodding her head to herself, she knew she kind of deserved that kind of treatment. She hadn't been exactly kind to anyone as of far, but then again, she wasn't paid for politeness. <br><br>Pro to her attitude however, Hackett cleared each room quickly and thoroughly, her eyes expressively seeping her gaze into every corner of the room, taking in details and things that didn't look quite right, or far to right. She fell several rooms behind Franka who was just motoring through the rooms, and Hackett wasn't keen to keep pace. The library took her a minute, she didn't clear it all but still took a look around. Contrary to her personality, Hackett enjoyed reading quite a bit. She made a mental note to, at some point in the near future, stop in here and take a look. No doubt people who owned such a place either had the smarts to develop a collection or the money to buy things Hackett could never afford. Or both, which bode well for her. Next were other rooms and such, then finally a bathroom. <br><br>Entering one of the rehashed bedrooms, Hackett spotted a wall of photographs, in a room with several small notebooks and various other things. She paused here, the significance of this room was lost on her, but her eyes scanned some of the photographs. Almost all were of families or loved ones, people who were no doubt dead or dying somewhere, all were certainly from better days. She scanned the faces, trying to think of what it all meant, and a wretching feeling hit her heart that she didn't belong here. As Hackett was beginning to leave, a vaguely familiar face jumped out at her from one of the pictures. She approached, and crouched, a picture of Derrick and a woman, they seemed happy together and it didn't take a long time of thinking for Hackett to connect a daughter and father, to the mother. Derrick and his wife. She squinted, uneasy, as she reached out and plucked the photo from the wall, and standing back up. She scanned the photograph, particularly looking over Derrick and taking a deep sigh. She stuffed the picture into her BDU shirt and left the room quickly, her boots making heavy steps on the wood floor. Exiting the room, Hackett thought about going to give the picture to Derrick, but Franka had moved ahead already, so Hackett moved to catch up.<br><br>By now, Hackett had caught up to Franka and peeked inside uneasily, following Franka in and looking around. Hackett closed the door and shouldered her rifle, the safety off but she felt it safe. Hackett took a long breath and rested her hands against one of the shower stalls in the bathroom. She looked into amirror and frowned, her hair was matted and her face was a little dirty. But overall she was much cleaner than Franka, which Hackett noticed as the young woman spoke, paying attention but her eyes dropped the floor as she turned around and leaned against the shower. She let the woman speak, her eyes soon lifting up to follow Franka's movement. Hackett's eyes were a bit tired looking, but her movements were strong a quick, perhaps she was aged beyond her years or had seen far to much. She grinned at Franka's finishing comments, chuckling inwardly. "<strong>Well, I suppose you have the right to clean yourself up. I wouldn't worry about me though, my whole point is to take risks.</strong>" Hackett laughed to herself, standing up and pacing a few feet into the middle of the room. "<strong>Then again I guess thats a bit self righteous, but its true, I suppose.</strong>" <br><br>Hackett sighed and crossed her arms across her chest, trying to find the words. She wasn't a brilliant scientist or a well traveled mercenary, she didn't deal in words nor was she really that capable of doing so, she wasn't like everyone else here who seemed to have a grasp on what it meant to be human, that was something the last decade had erased from Hackett's existance. Her jaw flexed as she fought to spit out the words she needed. "<strong>Look I, uh, I just wanted to thank you for helping us. And... to apologize, for me... myself, being so rude. You helped us out alot, probably saved our lives, and I treated you like an outsider.</strong>" Hackett moved her eyes to the floor, biting her lip. "<strong>Uh, yeah, thank you.</strong>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 09:18:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka's answering grin came instantly, even her eyes lit up, that she would finally get her hot shower cheered her up visibly. She was more relaxed inside this building than Hackett had ever seen her, and to be locked into a bathroom with an armed soldier apparently caused her no unease. She peered at her blood smeared reflection, pulled a face, met Hackett's eyes in the mirror, and raised an eyebrow. "Glad we agree on that one." She stepped away from the mirror and bent down to fumble with her wet shoelaces. The knots were so tight she could barely open them, and she hissed between her teeth in impatience. "You can take all the risks you want, but not where I'd have to clean up after you. I'd be really pissed if you got yourself infected, and had a nice little chase, smash and blood bathing session all over the house." <br><br>Looking up at the approaching woman, she grinned broadly, an echo of the carefree girl she once had been. She had finally managed to open the laces, straightened up and shook the wide open heavy boots off feet that looked surprisingly small now. "Sounds fatalistic rather, I'd say." Her cotton socks were soaked, too, an odd sight on someone like Franka, even more so in their blood stained, dirty state. They were striped in red, pink and white, the edge was ruffled, and rows of pretty bows, butterflies and cute Hello Kittie cat and bunny faces completed the picture. Franka looked at them with an amused expression, wiggled her toes and smirked over at Hackett. "Na? Jealous? Wait till you see my knickers!"<br><br>Her exasperation had disappeared with the promise of hot water, real shampoo, shower jelly, now she was all eagerness. She quickly opened her belt, unbuttoned her thick leather trousers and peeled out of the wet, clingy fabric. Compared to her socks, her panties looked old and hardly spectacular, simple black French knickers, but at least a nice fit. With the unconcerned air of one to whom the idea had never occurred that undressing before another woman might create the awkwardness of sexual undertones, Franka went about her business, struggled out of the trouser legs, pulled off her socks, dropped all of it right where she stood, and furiously scratched a fresh mosquito bite on her thigh with fierce concentration. <br><br>She saw Hackett cross her arms, caught some of the tension in her stance, and wondered what unpleasant things she wrestled with getting out this time. They stood just a few steps apart, and in the bright light of the room, they could see each other more fully and clearly than ever before. Franka studied Hackett's face with open directness. what she heard perplexed at first, but then the soldier's struggle for words and her embarrassment got under her skin. "It's alright. We're good. It's a damn tough job you've got there, a hell of a responsibility. These people, and no idea what you'd find here... And - I am an outsider. What fool would have trusted me right away? It's good to know you're smarter than that." <br><br>She smiled tentatively, felt she should say more, something meaningful, to show she appreciated Hackett's words, her sincerity. But what? "I - ahem... Well, ah - thank you." So much for that, she thought, I'll be damned if I'm not bloody brilliant at this sort of thing... Giving her attempt up as a lost cause, she rubbed her neck and looked around, for a change of subject as much as for an escape from the awkwardness that had gradually taken a hold of her. "I'd better hop under the shower. You prolly want to get back to the others quickly..." With one swift movement, she pulled the top over her head, rubbed it a few times over her wet hair, and dropped it onto the pile of clothes on which she stood.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rachubka</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 08:05:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Soaking in the fact that they were somewhere safe took Ashleigh a little while, but once it had, was she ever glad for it. Not once did she fire that pistol that was thrust into her hands and for the better of everyone on this mission, it would be great if it stayed that way. A scientist is never known to be a good shot - Ashleigh wasn't going to try and test that.<br><br>As the others spread out in their own little groups, the young woman practically stood in the middle of the first room cycling through what she had on her and what she would need. Being in this building brought a level of comfort to Ashleigh, making it that much easier to zone everyone around her out, but in the best way. The sooner she can conduct her research for a 'cure', the sooner that these people can return home. Thinking of home, Ashleigh eyed Franka for a quick second to try and pin-point what her motivations were. Did she truly want to leave this place? Was it simply out of convenience that a group of heavily armed men and women fell from the sky and are willing to protect her? It wasn't really important, but it was something to consider. Franka may just have a few pieces to the puzzle flying around through her blood stream - it'd be a good idea to look in to when the time comes.<br><br>While Hackett and Utem were deciding what to do with themselves, whether it be to bunker up or help Ashleigh settle in, the young scientist simply went off on her own to find a space. Closer to the center of the complex, she found a room that was void of windows, had a few stainless steel tables in it, and a small refrigerator. If there was any way to describe this find, it would be 'Perfect'. Over the next hour or so, Ashleigh unpacked all of the equipment that hung over her shoulders and her waist, as well as an over-the-shoulder bag that held more of her non-sensitive tools. Though this room did seem to perhaps been meant as a dining hall of sorts, Ashleigh was confident that no one would mind eating on the floor or just going bachelor style in the kitchen. Again, this mission is worth far more than to worry about things like that.<br><br>Looking into the room from the doorway, Ashleigh was pleased with her work. It was more of a relief to have all of those syringes and scopes off of her body than to actually be set up to do work. Her own 'personal' effects were lying in the opposite corner of the room - clothes, little treats she called 'Brain Food', things like that. If anything, this make shift lab frightened her; was the fridge cold enough to hold vaccines and samples? Would her samples even thrive under these conditions if left out for experimenting? Would she stop asking questions that really won't have any answers until she tries? Yup. Starting now.<br><br>With her flight suit still half-on and her white tank-top a little dirtier than when she started setting up her lab, Ashleigh took a moment to relax by leaning against a stainless steel counter. If she was back home, she would certainly slap herself for not taking care of such a sensitive workspace, but to be expected to create miracles in this room was ridiculous in the first place. Sighing quietly to herself, she only hoped that perhaps in the near future the group can find a fully functional lab, or at least more substantial equipment. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zelric Miras</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 02:57:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Yes I do and no thanks, I think I will pass." Utem answered as Franka left, he wasn't expecting an answer so he merely chuckled and looked around. Ashleigh seemed to be setting her things up so he would rather allow her to finish than disturb her now, it would be easier for her to check what she needed once everything was out and prepared. Hackett dragging him away was quite unexpected but he allowed her to, since he regarded her as the leader at the moment, even if she said that Ashleigh had the authority. "Rest assured, I will." His answer to her remark was simple and he meant it, the team's lives were part of his duty and he wouldn't let someone's foolish decision drag them all down, not again. <br><br>He would have appreciated a shower to get the sweat of him, although his suit protected him from any type of fluids tha came from the outside, it also hindered his sweat from going outside. In all, he was beginning to feel sticky. Silently, he thanked the antibacterial film that layered both sides of his gear, it saved him and his gear from smelling of sweat and dampness at least in a considerable amount. Once he was satisfied with his own inventory, Utem headed in the direction Ashleigh had left, finding her afterwards. "I see you are set up already. Anything you are missing or lacking?" There were a few things they hadstuffed in the extra bag he was carrying, 'in case it was needed', but most were simple or small equipment that could be regarded as general use.<br><br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 04:12:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick decided meditation would be his best course of action, so he took in a small breath and rested his head back against the wall. Listening intently to the world around him as everyone else seemed to want to find something to do. Keeping sane and calm? Sounded good enough for the moment. He flashed back to his conversation with the general who had put this whole mission together in the first place. The man knew of Derrick's record even though he technically wasn't supposed to exist, he made it painfully clear that if it came between them and his daughter? He'd take his daughter, however at the same time the General told him why exactly he wanted him to go. His skills and training were definitely prized, but despite everything else? Derrick wouldn't obey orders. If anyone tried to tell him what to do, and it conflicted with his beliefs? He'd tell them to fuck themselves. <br><br>Despite all the bad he had done, or how much he was focused on getting his daughter back? He wouldn't let any harm come to the scientist, even if it meant evading protocol. Not just physically speaking, but he'd be concerned what it'd do for her mentally also. He'd never come out and say it of course, but Derrick knew that he wouldn't let her or Franka be hurt for that matter. The general was a smart one. These two women, especially Ashleigh had no place out here. Despite Derrick's claims that he'd let them all die if it meant getting Jasmine? He knew his damned values had kicked in, and he had to ensure the women folk stayed alive. Hackett? Well, that could go either way at this point as far as he was concerned.<br><br>With that clarity, Derrick got to his feet. He needed to talk to someone who wasn't a damn Nazi for orders and protocol.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>03-10-2010, 03:15:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett felt like a child in the spot light after having done something wrong. She could almost hear her brothers laughing at her, and the heat of her mothers gaze was making her face warm. Embarrassment was not something Hackett did well, nor did she deal with it like a normal person. Her eyes returned to the floor as she waited for Franka to respond, and only her ears paid attention when she did. Not that Hackett didn't want to listen, but since offering her apologies, she felt like that had been a mistake. Hackett didn't usually apologize for anything, let alone in times like this, in the field. Now wasn't the time for feelings like that or feeling like you've done something wrong, now was the exact opposite time for that kind of feeling. It didn't do her well to think she'd been harsh or overly distant to someone trying to help, that was kind of her basic nature but also a requirement for this part of the world, especially today. Previous experience had taught Hackett to be aggressive, especially around the infected, and most importantly so around people who had been cut off from modern civilization for so long a time.<br><br>At this point, Hackett was thinking about other things, but her mind returned to Franka when she mentioned Hackett getting infected. She raised an eyebrow and wanted to voice her opinion on the likelyhood of that happening and Hackett not going down before, but knew it wasn't the time. "<strong>Well, I'll do my best not to inconveinience you.</strong>" Hackett nodded, shifting her body so she was leaning against the wall. "<strong>I'll do my best to get dropped somewhere outside, if that makes you feel better.</strong>" Hackett grinned, crossing her legs as she again moved a bit, her eyes lifting up from the floor to watch Franka undoing her shoes, with some effort, and hesitated to mention trying to rush won't help. But she got them off, and Hackett chuckled at her socks, nodding as though she were agreeing to be jealous. Although they were a bit more cutsey than her preferences, the nice wool socks she had on were more than comfortable enough to do the job. "<strong>You've got me, I'm actually a sucker for hello kitty socks.</strong>"<br><br>Hackett again averted her eyes to the ground, not waiting for anything specific, just waiting, as Franka began to really undress. Hackett knew Franka had nothing she didn't, but it still felt a bit awkward to be watching her strip down and having only seen her face clearly a few minutes ago for the first time, but then, that was the same thing for any of Hackett's bisexual flings that lasted a few hours and never went further. She noted Franka didn't strike her as the practical underwear type, especially not with the socks she had, but it also made sense with the life she likely lived here. Hackett didn't let her eyes wander though, or tried to avoid letting them, now wasn't the time for her to get preoccupied. She really didn't trust walls to protect her, even against an enemy that couldn't fire back, they made up for it in resilience and animalistic drive.<br><br>The mood in the bathroom seemed to ease, Hackett was less embarrassed and seemed more at ease as Franka was just fueling an air of chipper thrill, her desire to take a shower seemed to rub off on Hackett as she relaxed and calmed, though still ready to jump into action. Hackett nodded at Franka's words, distantly, but she did agree in part that Hackett handled the whole thing like she was expected too, but it hardly seemed fair considering the relatively unnecessary risk Franka had taken. Hackett stood up and cleared her throat, checking her rifle quickly and nodding towards the door. Hackett wanted to respond to Franka's remarks about her being an outsider, true or not, Hackett felt there was something to be said, Franka did something not a large number of people would have done. <br><br>Still, that seemed distant as Franka seemed to be getting closer to her shower and Hackett again blushed. She strained, awkwardly, to give Franka some idea of privacy as she pulled her shirt off. "<strong>I'll give you some privacy.</strong>" Hackett stole a final look at Franka and slowly, almost leisurely, headed for the door.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>14-10-2010, 22:42:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka grinned back, eyebrows raised, and indicated a bow. "Very considerate, I appreciate it." She bent down, picked up the blood soiled socks and dropped them into the washbasin. Something gave her pause, she stared at the socks, shook her head, sighed. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Bloody kids. They cling to you no matter how often you tell them to piss off, make the crappiest presents, and though you can't stand the shite, or brats, you end up soaking bloody girlie socks in cold water 'cause it might hurt them if the stupid things got ruined. How do they do that? "<br><br>It sounded like a rhetorical question at best, more like a complaint, maybe not even that, there was too much resigned amusement in Franka's tone to pull it off convincingly. She lowered the plug into the basin and filled it with cold water, watching faint pink marble it before she answered Hackett's comment. "If you're a sucker for these things, you might find yourself lucky. Maybe she'll give you a Hello Kitty pen. Although I'll try my best to convince her to pick the earrings, or the Alice band, that would look ever so cute on you." She turned towards Hackett, grinning broadly. <br><br>An instant later, her expression grew serious. "She's great, actually, for a kid. With a good plan, we might get her out. See, Derek, he'll do anything to make that happen. He's a selfish bastard, but he used to be a good Dad, a decent guy, I think he'd want to prove he still can be that man, for her. Either way, he'll stop at nothing to get to her, keep her safe, bring her home. Sure, I want her out of here, too, but I honestly think it's your best shot if you'd tie her rescue to the mission's success." <br><br>Talking about these matters had dispelled what awkwardness their half stammered exchange had produced. About her body, she was not self-conscious, she was distracted, forgot to consider what effect her scars might have on outsiders, after living for years among people who had seen her scars hundreds of times. Not even people who had never seen her scars would have been taken aback by them, or only slightly so because she had so many and they looked vicious, though they had healed very well. Among survivors, it didn't mark her a freak, but one who could fight her way out, had stayed alive with all odds against her.<br><br>Preoccupied with other things, her scars forgotten, and in the company of another woman, she felt as naturally at ease as she would undressing before a stranger in a sauna for ladies. She pulled down her knickers and tossed them onto her other clothes, then shoved the lot into a corner with one foot. If one liked her type, she could have looked gorgeous were it not for all the scars. For those were not simply scars, but perverse looking ones, too clearly caused by human teeth, by nails and fingers, by humans tearing, biting, clawing at her flesh, that it was hard to see them and not envision what must have happened, or to be repelled. <br><br>The glance Hackett stole at her showed her a willowy body with flexible, unusually symmetrical muscles, firm breasts that were on the small side of average, hips round enough to not appear boyish, and an enviable butt. With her delicate bones, a small waist, and muscles that were neither too compact and pronounced, nor gaunt, she looked feminine, young, fit. Her skin, tanned and freckled where the sun had reached it, and increasingly pale elsewhere, looked very smooth and soft. Seeing her naked, relaxed, chipper, in normal civilisation's surrounding, stood in near absurd contrast to what she, and all life, had been for six years, out there.<br><br>But Franka didn't stay within sight for long, with three strides, she was at the shower, pushed the cabin's door open and slipped inside. Upon closing it behind her she became no more than a silhouette behind milk glass. To Hackett's intention of giving her privacy, she said. "I don't mind you're here. You can use the other shower if you want. I mean - do as you please, right, but after what happened, well, I always feel like there's nothing like a hot shower to wash that off you, get it out of your system, sort of."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>19-10-2010, 12:08:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett refused to look at Franka, her mind couldn't afford to go elsewhere but the young womans change in spirit was enough to make Hackett glance, briefly, and then shy away again as Franka took to the showers. She so desperately wanted to get in that Franka almost bewildered Hackett with her eagerness for a shower, something so meaningless in the States, but Hackett knew from experience how welcoming the most frequent comforts of home could be, especially when they became a rarity. She wanted to join the fun, have a shower and get herself clean, but Hackett reminded herself, harshly, of who she was and what she did. Being grimey and smelling was part of her job, getting her mind in the right place and not letting the possibly brief delights of this place become something normal. For all she knew, tomorrow would see this safe house rendered useless, either by geography or hostile action. Hackett smirked, thinking about the half dozen of those rotting bastards she'd killed back in the forest. After thinking about that, Hackett looked back at the faded shape of Franka and nodded. "<strong>All right, I'll take you up on that offer. Just lemme do my check-in and I'll be good to go.</strong>" Hackett chuckled, shouldering her rifle and exiting the bathroom quickly, pausing in the hallway as she closed the door.<br><br>On her way back to the main entry area, Hackett stopped briefly in that picture room again, and studied some of the photos. They were faced she'd likely end up never forgetting, not for any real reason, just she couldn't help but take a personal thing with her after every mission, and frequently after the world went to hell, leaving something behind. She found Franka and smiled a little, but didn't linger on their guides former life. Hackett returned to the lobby as Derrick was going somewhere, she briefly wondered where Ashleigh was and whether Utem was with her. But she knew he was, Utem seemed like a good soldier. Derrick... on the other hand, had proven hard to control, which spelt disaster for the mission. Still, she could understand his plight. She didn't have a family, likely never would, she wasn't the kind you'd want mothering children. But even so, she understood the bonds of family, with her comrades none the less. She approached Derrick and stopped him, briefly. "<strong>You and I, we need to talk.</strong>" She gave him an understanding pat on the shoulder, and a look that said she wanted to be on his side, that maybe she was wrong earlier or maybe she wasn't, but she sincerely wanted him on her side. "<strong>We, really, need to talk.</strong>" Hackett spoke uncharacteristically softly, but her eyes were sure and intense, as usual. There was no debating her words, that was an order. Before she left, Hackett offered him the photograph she'd snagged off the wall. Not knowing now why she'd taken it, she wanted things to get on track, and gave Derrick the picture. Without words and a simple, apologetic nod, she left him to his thoughts.<br><br>After that, Hackett made a quick jog for her small laptop and set it up. The small signal dish didn't have the robust power one might expect from military gear, but if nothing else, the Navy knew its trade and it did it damn well. She set up the signal dish and the laptop, and eventually managed to piggy back on an old cellular satellite. From there, it was a simple bridged connection to J-SOC in the States and soon, the Navy side commanders of this whole shebang were staring back at Hackett. She filled them in on the combat incident and also their contact with Franka, Jake, and the teams current location. She hesitantly left out Derrick's sudden swap of loyalty from the mission to himself, but she certainly made mention that the team wasn't 'jelling' so well, but that she'd work on it. For their part, the men on the other side were not willing to tell Hackett how to do her job, they'd all been in the field, but made mention to some kind of secondary mission that might come to the surface over the next day or so. That set off alarm bells, immediately, because the only time a mission was changed or updated was when something spooked the higher ups. She ignored the alarms for now, focusing on the updated intelligence and the promises of a known bracket on Franka by tomorrow afternoon. Hackett felt that was unnecessary, whatever information they could dig up Hackett could probably get Franka to willingly part with, but it helped to know her people. She almost asked for more information on Derrick, specifically his family, but she knew that would send alarm bells the other way. If this mission was going to succeed, they'd all be on the same team or fail together as a fractured attempt at success. <br><br>"<strong>Anything else, sir?</strong>" Hackett asked, dutifully wanting to get this over with and ninja herself a quick shower.<br><br>"<em>That'll be all Chief, good luck.</em>" With that, the screen went blue and the damn thing started beeping. Hackett shut it off and folded the small tower back down with its dish in tow. The password screen came up, with a slowly spinning crest of the US Navy in the background. Hackett sighed and turned the small laptop off, placing her rifle on the table, ejecting the magazine and then making sure the chamber was clear. She pulled off her vest and web gear, setting it all down on the table along with the little headset and microphone in her ear. Hackett kept her sidearm and her knife, hell, she slept with her sidearm more often than without it. Let alone shower in a strange house with no telling how many 'bad guys' around. Three or a thousand? Who could be sure. Hackett returned to the bathroom, quietly opening the door and letting out an exasperated sigh, not knowing how close or far from finishing her shower Franka was, Hackett didn't want to look. "<strong>That was fun. Good thing its all about the video conferencing and not paper work, or I would have shot myself 5 years ago.</strong>" Hackett chuckled, unhooking her pistol ammo belt and setting it on the counter, her knife and its sheath jutting out awkwardly. She unclipped her thigh holster, with her pistol still in it, and set it down as well. <br><br>On to her clothing. The BDU uniform was pretty simple to take off, its nice looking ACU style camouflage pattern was a distinctive contrast to Franka's piled clothing on the floor. Jackett undid her boots and stepped out of them, the tan colored boots had some mud on them, but only a little blood was near the heels. Hackett didn't mind, at all really, as she looked at her dark black nomex socks and chuckled, her eyes glancing towards Franka's hello kitty socks. Hackett undid her blouse and folded it up neatly, setting it on the floor next to her boots. Her black nylon sports bra was nothing spectacular. It did nothing for her figure, but it kept her chest comfortably immobile and supported. She undid her trousers next, and much the same, the boyshort style nylon underwear was again, none to comparative to Franka but it was comfortable and functional. The Navy had to strike that balance between comfort and avoiding controversy. Her naturally sliim figure did not allow for the boxer style things the men wore, but of course the Navy couldn't hand out thongs to its female sailors. So they struck a balance between simplicity of wear and function, without leaving the panty line of regular underwear on nicely pressed uniforms. Hackett too both her bra and underwear off in a hurry, folding everything up neatly next to her boots and taking her socks off last, stuffing them into her boots. Hackett glanced at herself in the mirror. Compared to Franka's thin body, Hackett was easily twice her size in muscle. Her arms and mid section were well toned and displayed prominent muscles, her chest was equally as pronounced and her buttox was nicely shaped, taunt and firm. She was much more athletic than Franka, but also a little less feminine. She had the same curves, but they didn't seem to fit as well with her muscles. Hackett never really looked at herself in the mirror, but strangely she did. She had a fraction of the scars Franka did, but they all looked the same, most of them at least. There were two that were the odd cousins, knife or shrapnel wounds. But at least half a dozen looked the same; small, a little bit rounded but with a tail off in some direction. Bullet wounds, some were entry exits, the entry was the smallest of the two. One near her right breast was a wound where the bullet that caused it was still inside, to close to her spine to remove. There was one, the most obvious, her her lower back trailing to the side of her hip. Long story short, an exploding tank in Beirut had put a 7 inch piece of tank through her lower back. Luckily for Hackett most of the shrapnel missed her, but it was the second wound she'd received, the first from Afghanistan, where she'd blacked out before being medevaced, certain she was going to die and determined to make peace with her god. <br><br>She grinned at the memory, skirting death had happened to her twice, once from a lucky Taliban sniper and one from wrong place, wrong time and no invisible shielding of fate and chance to protect her. Hackett stretched her arms and shoulders as she made her way to the shower, glancing at the form of Franka on the other side of the frosted glass. "<strong>How's the water? Better be warm or I might strangle Derrick out of spite.</strong>" Hackett laughed for the first time today, stepping into the shower and cracking the water on as soon as she did. The water poured down around her and all she could think about was that one, unlucky day in Afghanistan, her first real bite with death. She remembered the feeling, her body was cold and the pain was dull, but throbbing. The scariest part was that she didn't expect to survive, and every time she nearly blacked out, her teammate kept her awake, until she lost enough blood to pass out. As her eyes forced themselves closed, Hackett remembered only the absolute fear pumping into her veins as she was certain her end had come. Fun times. "<strong>Your right, hot showers get the kinks out.</strong>" Hackett shouted as she plunged her head under the falling water.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Darkcide</strong> on <strong>20-10-2010, 06:02:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derrick was going to look around, he didn't think they'd be here for too long. But as it was? This place seemed thus far as good as any others to hole up for a little while. Although appearances could be deceiving. To his surprise though, Hackett stopped him. He looked at her with a skeptical look, especially when she touched his shoulder. Looking at the woman as if she was addled in the brain for a second, he smirked and was getting ready to open his mouth to tell her where to stick it. There it was though, she handed him a picture. Derrick paused for a moment before looking down at it, it felt like being hit in the gut and his entire stance had dropped. Gazing down into the dead memories, he closed his eyes for a moment and tried to regain his composure.<br><br>There was no way in hell he'd allow anyone to see him at his weakest, so Derrick made his way back to his bag and carefully placed the picture inside of it. Clearing his throat gently, he wondered just what this new development meant. It was irrelevant currently, he'd figure things out later. In the meantime? He needed something to do, and so Derrick looked around for any sort of diversion that might exist in the house. Although his sidearm was kept in hand, in case there were any surprises. <br><br>Moving near a dusty doorway, he wearily placed an ear to the door. Listening for any kind of activity. Hearing nothing, Derrick slowly opened the door and looked around. The room was empty of all life, yet at the same time there was a comforting calm. Derrick kneeled down for a second and took a quick look around, frowning some as he went through a small book shelf. Curiously grabbing one of the books, he opened it but was disappointed to find the writing? Definitely wasn't in a language he knew how to read. Tossing it back onto the shelf, he muttered <strong>"OK, I seriously need to find some way to kill the time. This is getting absurd..."</strong> <br><br>After exiting the room, Derrick decided that maybe having that "talk" with Hackett would at least provide some measure of entertainment. Still, he couldn't help but wonder just how she got that picture or what was going through that head of hers. It just didn't make any sense whatsoever. Pacing through a hallway, Derrick had roamed freely for a few minutes until hearing what sounded like a woman's voice and running water. Perking up an eyebrow some, he rested his back against the wall and tried to listen from outside the door. The voice sounded somewhat like Hackett's and he didn't assume she was crazed enough to have a conversation with herself. If he went in there though? He was pretty sure that would lead to a pretty violent confrontation, but at the same time? He was a red blooded male all the same. <br><br>Rolling his eyes, he shouted at the doorway <strong>"So I suppose that conversation should wait, darlin'? I'll assume your not decent currently!"</strong> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>25-10-2010, 22:07:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Right, you do that." Came Franka's cheerful voice, echoing a little in the confined space of glass and tiles. She turned on the shower, heard the door open and shut, and stepped under the steaming jet of water, let it hammer against her forehead, onto her shoulders, closing her eyes as she leaned back to let the blood and filth wash out of her hair without getting any of that into her face or near her nose. She had never gotten used to the scent of infected blood being heated up, it was not even that bad, nor a very strong scent, definitely not now, as streams of water washed it off her and down the drain. <br><br>But with scents, it was a weird thing, they hit home before you knew what was happening, landed you smack in the middle of some memory or emotion. What was that part of the brain called, that oldest one, the seat of instinctive reactions and such? Anyway, there scents would go and work their spell. The odour of infected blood would forever evoke the ghost of the formidable stink of rotten corpses lying bloated on the asphalt, in and on cars, on the pavement, almost melting in the summer heat, or of flesh burning, so sickening, or of entrails spilling out. How disgusting even a fresh, hell, a living, healthy body stank if torn open! <br><br>Stop. She told herself, and took the shampoo bottle, opened it. The fragrance worked its magic. She took what for her was a generous portion and massaged it into her scalp, producing a heap of foam, scrubbing and kneading a lot longer than necessary, just because it felt so good. She washed her body with the same exaggerated thoroughness, then just stood there, wrapped in the lingering perfumes. She realised she could not even say what it was supposed to smell like, it was a little musky, in a feminine way, with a touch of, what was it, sandal, maybe, and some exotic flower? It sure was nothing she had smelled in nature in the past six years. But oh, it smelled great, just great.<br><br>She had brushed her teeth and just begun to waste another few drops of shower jelly for an extra round of foaming fragrance fun, when Hackett came back in. Frank had forgotten all around her for a while, and bumped her elbow against the tiles, so startled was she at the soldier's reappearance. Cursing at herself under her breath, while grinning at her own folly, she rubbed her elbow. "It's hot, and it'll stay that way for hours. But feel free to strangle him, anyway." She laughed, feeling good, really, truly good for the first time in quite a while. This house was the best place in her universe, a sanctuary where the past seemed never to have run into that six year long apocalyptic spectacle. <br><br>All her muscles had relaxed, her skin felt vibrant, there was no need to be noiseless, to listen, to hurry, be on her guard, ready to jump, to keep her weapons and whatever else she needed to survive within reach, stay forever alert, on the lookout for danger. That she could still switch into this other state of being was another source of satisfaction. She heard Hackett step into the other cabin, and her shouted comment. "You know, back in the old days, I used to go climbing, mountaineering, such things. After a few weeks or months, once back home, you'd think you knew just how fucking fantastic a hot shower was, clean, fresh clothes, to sleep in a bed, just switch on the light, or central heating, or to curl up on the sofa with a book. But we had no idea what it's really like to miss all that stuff."<br><br>She was in as good a mood by now as one could possibly ever catch her in, almost ready to slip into her old personality, the one that would have been at home in these surroundings, taken them for granted. "I could stay in here forever..." That was when she heard Derrick's voice through the door. She groaned in disbelief and exasperation, but a hint of a amusement resonated in her voice as she called out. "Oh, piss off, Derrick, both showers are occupied. Don't you dare come in and pester us. How old are you, anyway, that you can't be left alone for ten minutes? Go make yourself useful for a change, mate..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>06-11-2010, 22:47:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hackett was washing herself, which was odd, since she never showered in the field. This mission was a whole batch of new oddities that she had never experienced. The young SEAL never cleaned herself on missions, it distracted her from smelling local. She never, or rarely, worked with locals but again, here she was. With the shower raining down on her, Hackett was presented with the ideal place to think. She avoided using anything scented, obviously, but she was curious. Turning to press her back into the wall and think, she squirmed a bit as the water cascaded down her face and down her naked body. It pained her to think about tomorrow, but then, today could only go on for so long. What might be different after the night passed and things proceeded forward, she didn't want to think about it. Now was neither the time nor the place to give in to that kind of thinking. After her shower, after everything else, Hackett might consider, briefly, their options. And the repercussions.<br><br>But for now, she only stared at the silhouette figured of Franka in the other shower, moving about, she smiled. Franka reminded her of someone she'd met a long, long time ago. A civlian who worked near Little Creek, where Hackett's headquarters was located. She seemed so energetic, full of life and unjaded by the times. Hackett had to admit she respected Franka, she expected any suvivors to be resentful of Hackett's type and what they had failed to do. Protecting the people who needed protecting, instead of abandoning them. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed, stepping away from the wall and turning back to finish her shower. If things went well, maybe Franka would make it back state side? Hackett figured that was unlikely, but considered the possibility. She had her orders, but one thing that delighted her about the Joint Chiefs was that they, more than the Armed Forces committees, listened to the commanders on the ground. In this instance, Hackett was certain Franka's experience would prove some sort of useful. If a counter virus wasn't found eventually, they'd try to use gas again, or maybe just bomb everything. But if they had a solid ground strategy...<br><br>Hackett chuckled at Franka's words and looked over shoulder at the figure of Franka through the frosted glass. She could relate to Franka's words, though obviously Hackett didn't go mountain climbing. Well, not JUST mountain climbing. Usually she'd end up killing someone and running a good 10 miles before the day ended. Of course, on long deployments, that was weeks or months. So much so, Hackett was more accustomed to sleeping her with sidearm in hand and being awake but still sleeping, alert, vigilant. She could never take chances. The truely hard things to get her mind around, were the simple things Franka just listed. Readily available showers, the small comforts of home, that Hackett considered more distant than the sounds of distant gunfire in the night. She actually <em>couldn't</em> sleep without at least some noise. <br><br>"<strong>Yeah, I wouldn't really know. I'm more used to getting shot at in my sleep than having readily available electricity on the flip of a switch. Isn't that amazing?</strong>" Hackett sounded almost happy. That was who she was and who she was made her happy. She was about to add more, but heard Derrick outside the door. She peeked over the top of the shower at the door, shrugging, knowing he couldn't see her through the frosted glass. Even though he wasn't in the room, Franka shouted and Hackett couldn't help but laugh out loud. Her hand again running through her hair as the water continued to fall on her, Hackett couldn't quite hear that well with the added interferance of water rushing past her ears, but none the less heard Franka's every word, and grinned.<br><br>"<strong>Yeah, what she said. Open that door and you'll get a fresh new hole where your frontal lobe used to be.</strong>" Hackett shouted in jest, chuckling quietly to himself. In a quieter tone, Hackett approached the divide between Franka and herself, but didn't get to close. Franka had her privacy. "<strong>Figures, I say talk and the second I get naked here he shows up. I'm pretty sure 'talking' is a single useage term, am I right?</strong>" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Infected - All the Rage - The Survivors [possible extreme (nonsexual) violence]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>08-12-2010, 11:43:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Franka could imagine about a hundred ways of life she'd prefer to being a soldier. She wondered what it must be like, and why someone would decide for it, why Hackett had wanted this. She asked casually. "Do you like that sort of life, being a soldier?" It made her wonder, speaking of choices, what she would have done if she had had an option, any option. She had still been in school when the outbreak came, had only been sixteen. Before civilised life such as she had known had turned in a long near apocalyptic nightmare, it had seemed clear what would follow, she would qualify for university, then study something. She had not even known what she wanted to study yet, there had been time, nothing to worry about. What had she worried about? She could not remember, or rather, did not trust her memories, life 'before' seemed utopian, an idyllic state unlike anything her reality had become, too good to be true. Had it really been like that, or had she subconsciously rewritten her memories over and over again, to create a vision of perfection?<br><br>And today, what if she were given a choice now, what would she want to do with herself, her life, if she could jump straight into what once had been a 'normal life' for her, and still counted as one in all those countries outside Europe? She drew a blank, had no idea. Stare, she supposed, wander, a wide eyed freak, through shopping malls full of goods she barely recognised anymore, and along streets, gaping at all the cars, bikes, people, all those uninfected, well fed people - overfed, if that was still the rule out there, who went to school, university, work, had children, living families, even pets, and flats, cars, bank accounts, cinemas, phones, computers and so on, and whose thought about - well, what, really, what did people her age think about in that other world? What would they think about someone like her? And what had happened out there in the last six years, how much had changed, how much gone on just as she remembered? Weird, all that, so weird. She could ask Hackett, of course, but for some odd reason, she was too shy, or, she interrupted herself wryly, too afraid to hear just how desirable all that was which she couldn't have. <br><br>She dismissed all that, pushed it back, down, aside, and laughed with Hackett, back in the moment, in the half abandoned conversation. Hackett's mock threat made her grin, and she amused herself with an image of Hackett darting out of the shower to pick up her rifle and point it at Derrick. She turned to the divide with Hackett on the other side of it, grinned at the outline of the woman she could just barely make out. "Right, at least he'll die happy, seeing you stark naked, skin aglow and wet from the shower as you handle a mighty gun should come damn near to guy-fantasy Heaven." She laughed, wondering where that had come from, a way of thinking from six years ago that had suddenly connected with the here and now. "I mean, if I remember that part right, an angry, sexy martial arts lady with a gun used to be the next best thing a guy could whack off to, right after hot lesbian sex." 
			</dd>
		</dl>
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