A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Night 52: Wicker Street (Doyleton)
[confused] what is this i don't even
zack_fair wrote in damned
[From here.]

As far as Zack could tell, he hadn't really been to this part of town. It looked like he hadn't explored enough after all, though it was way different seeing it all at night. Even outside, there were some street lamps that would come on and off sporadically, but he did his best to ignore that, along with the unsettling way that his shadow stretched across the concrete.

Glancing over at Tifa, he shrugged to show that he was clueless about where to go next. "Were we looking for something specific?" he asked. "Or just exploring?"

Either way, he was curious to see what was out there. He didn't hear or see any zombies yet, but that could change in a blink of an eye. Funny, how they could show up from out of nowhere even though they moved so slowly.

Zack wanted to ask Tifa for more details about what he'd heard from Cloud earlier in the day, but that would have to wait until they had their objective set in stone.
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[From here, and presumably time-warping to miss Tifa and Zack?]

Stepping out into the night air made Claire seize on the spot. Holy hell, it was freezing. Was it winter in America? Shouldn't there be snow?

Hesitantly, she moved closer to the man with the faint hope that his body heat would do more for her than rubbing her arms and shivering. The island had always been hot. Not even the rains or the nightfall came close to this.

Still. She had somewhere to be. She couldn't stop for a little cold.

"You've been here before, right?" she asked abruptly. "Do you know of anywhere that'll have some useful? Something we can fight with?"

Guns would be nice, but they were useless if you ran out of bullets. Not to mention hard to find: the town was tiny. It was unlikely that anyone here was well armed. She would jump at the chance if they rounded up a decent stockpile of ammunition to go with it, but for now she'd settle for an axe. Or something like it.

Hold on, Carter was still stuck on the dinner thing. "Why would you do a crazy thing like that? They've got some of the best food I've ever tasted, why would you starve yourself?" Oh no, what if she was one of the ones who was really crazy? Only a crazy person would pass up such lovely food at the expense of their enemies.

When she moved close to him Carter moved a step away and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked down the darkened streets and almost considered the possibility of thinking about potentially leaving her behind.

She was still a woman, though. And a person. And they hadn't left Crittendon behind either. "There's a hardware store somewhere around here," he said with a guilty shrug, shoulders hunched against the wind. "And a store for fancy televisions. Don't know if they'd be open, I don't see many lights on around here."

"Why would you eat it?" She regarded him with a flat stare. Why was no one else worried about the food here? "The last time I was in a place like this, they drugged everything. Shot me up with needles. The only reason I'm even here now is because somebody else broke me out. I'm not falling for that again."

The food wasn't important anymore. She didn't plan on returning to the asylum now that she was out. At least not until she found Aaron. Goku and Rika...kids shouldn't be in a place like that. She felt uneasy leaving them there (Bella too), but she had to be honest. If nothing else, she was more of a help to them out here than stuck inside. She'd come back for them as soon as she could.

"A hardware store?" Claire latched onto his words. No exact location, but that sounded like a good bet. Tools and things would be much more useful than kid's toys, like in the shop across the street. "We should check it out, at least. See what we could find. Anything's better than wandering around empty handed."

If he didn't know where it was, they could just patrol the streets. The town looked small enough, finding it shouldn't be a problem. Though they were fortunate that no one was up and about at this hour. They needed to be quick, or else someone might decide to take a midnight stroll before they were safe off the streets.

She started forward with a keen eye for the shop names, jogging the bag further up her shoulder. The smooth plastic handle kept slipping.

"I'm Claire, by the way. You?"

"Sergeant Andrew Carter. I don't know what kinda prisons you've been in but trust me, nobody's poisoning the food at Landel's. I've been there for nearly a week and nothing's happened to me." He scampered after her, feeling what little control he had of the situation fading away.

Where were they, again? It was hard to remember backwards and in the dark. Carter pointed ahead with more conviction than he felt. "The restaurant I was in with Admiral ZEX is up there. Maybe they'll give you something for free." An auto shop beyond it too, although Carter wasn't really clear what they needed with hardware in the first place. Weaponry? Against who or what? If it was the Landel's guards they'd have guns anyway, so there wasn't really a point.

It was beginning to occur to the young sergeant that he didn't have many plans past getting out of the institute. There weren't any cars, two-way-radios, or easily seduced native women around to help them get out and Carter didn't even know which direction the next friendly city was, let alone how long it took to walk there.

Come to think of it...there should have been at least someone here. Why was the town so empty?

She paused. Her grip tightened around the knife. Sergeant? Her thoughts immediately flew to the crew from the freighter, dressed in camouflage and armed to the teeth with grenades and guns. They had bombed her house. And, she had later discovered, shot Alex, Karl, and Rousseau.

No. She had to be reasonable here - every country had a military, and each one had their own dividing factions. They were huge, diverse. Not to mention that army men were hardly the only ones to use guns and camouflage. Though this Carter guy was American like the freighter people (save for Charlotte), he wasn't necessarily working with them. Not to mention he seemed a little too naive for that bunch.

Still, though. It was something to keep in mind. Claire picked caution over intuition and let herself fall into step with him, preventing any chance he had of a shot at her back.

"A lot of people agree with you," she conceded, "But there are some chances I'm not willing to take. Not that it matters anymore. We're out here now, aren't we?"

She squinted in the direction of his finger. A restaurant (god, a real restaurant) sounded like an excellent place to stock up on food. Real food, not just sweets like in her bag. Safety came first though. She wasn't going anywhere else until she had something with a better reach than a knife.

[Moving them to here, if that's okay?]

Edited at 2010-10-24 02:08 am (UTC)

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