Forum Thread

The ruinous cityscape held many large buildings, most having long since crumbled to the ground in an accelerated aging process. Tempest and his canine companion had ventured into most over the course of the past years, but only one truly meant anything to him; an old apartment building, inconspicuous amongst the others in its lot, seemingly reduced to total shambles. It had been knocked over, floors crumbling in on each other and toppling forwards. Anyone looking at it might assume there wasn’t even a way in and move on by, considering the potential injuries not worth whatever mere supplies may have been hoarded by the former inhabitants, all of whom hadn’t had many to begin with. However, the young man knew better.

Both man and dog turned around, scanning their surroundings slowly. When the pair were satisfied that no one was watching, they quickly turned and darted up close to the rubble, demeanor seeming to change entirely. Tempest knelt, pushing his right shoulder against a medium sized chunk of bricks that rested on the ground as Angel stood beside him, watching the road. As the barrier was pushed away, a grey metal hatch was revealed, the sort that would lead into a basement.

The young man removed a key from his back pocket and inserted it into a lock in the center of the panel, turning it. As usual, the key moved reluctantly at first due to the damage and rust accumulated by the hatch, but it gave way presently and he was able to slip his fingers beneath the slightly raised left edge, lifting up and opening the entrance to a musty and dark staircase. Tempest nodded to his collie companion, who returned the gesture before trotting down the stairs. He followed her, pausing only to lock the hatch from underneath.

Angel and Tempest made their way through the dingy room once used solely for storage in the apartment building which the man had lived in his whole life. In many places, the ceiling had caved in, turning the area to an obstacle course wherein travelers had to duck, weave, and sometimes crawl through the old splintered wood, molded insulation, and ravaged drywall and plaster. While still cautious, both could be seen to hurry, urgency in their steps. There was something that they wanted dearly in this building, something they’d do anything to find.

As they reached another staircase at the far end of the building, one in far greater disrepair, Tempest paused briefly only to lift the large dog into his arms. She was heavy, but not too much so. He knew Angel didn’t particularly like being held, and he wouldn’t in her position, either, but the stairs had many rusty old nails and staples jutting up through them, and his boots were far better on such surfaces than her soft paw pads. While in most circumstances the collie would far prefer preserving her dignity and potentially being harmed, if Angel were to be hurt, Tempest would experience the same injury, and for that reason alone the canine submitted to the action.

After ascending a flight of steps and promptly setting Angel back on the ground, resting a hand on her head briefly, Tempest set off again. The lobby of the building had been crushed under the weight of the rest of the building, but in its place now sat the former first floor. Tempest’s family had lived on the fifth, but any floor above the first was now entirely unrecognizable as anything other than old rocks and sawdust. Down the hallway, if it could still be known as such, he now jogged, hurrying, hurrying, leaping over bricks and holes in the floor, stopping only as he reached a room with the door hanging off its hinges. The numbers had fallen off, leaving only an imprint in the wood behind; Room 10. Silently, he entered.

---

Tayla hadn't given Darren a second thought as she slinks back into the shadows to make her escape. The body though, she gave it a final look, but only to retrieve her arrow before finally leaving the scene behind.

She was suddenly eager to return home. She hadn't expected to be out this long. She had only wanted to visit Lucius for about twenty minutes. Long enough to terrify the man before finally killing him. But that backfired quickly. She couldn't help but feel trapped, like the walls were slowly closing in on her. With each person she killed, she became less and less of a person. Would there be a day when she would be hunted as well? Live by the sword, die by the sword...

The trip was long, but Tayla didn't mind. It gave her an opportunity to clear her head. The two arrive at what was probably once a small office building. It had almost completely caved in. About twelve feet up was a small opening. A broken window perhaps? Or maybe a large vent? Faustus, as always, jumps on a piece of rubble and easily dives into the opening. As usual, Tayla smirks at the sight. "Show off" she tells Faustus who in return lifts his chin up proudly before lowering his head to watch her. There was a piece of rope hanging off the small entrance. She grabs the rope and leans back, effortlessly scaling up the building. Or at least, it looks effortless, the only sign of her hard work was her ragged breathing when she reached the top.

Both her and Faustus crawl through the opening and arrive in a single room. The floor was once made of rubble, but Tayla managed to gather some lumber to create an actual floor. The work wasn't neat, but it worked. She grabs the rope and hauls it up into her home so nobody could enter behind her before surveying her limited supplies to ensure that nothing was taken. She would have to go hunting soon, maybe search for more water. But for now, she just wanted to rest. She puts her crossbow away and practically collapses onto her pile of blankets.

She turns to face the wall on her left, her hand was outstretched, cupped open by muscle memory to lay underneath a locket hanging on a nail. The necklace was once her mother's. The picture inside was quickly fading, but she could still make out the picture inside. The girl in the picture was surrounded by a smiling family. The girl here was different from the girl now. There were times when she wondered what her family would've thought of her. If they knew what she would've become, would they have hated her? In her story, she was a villain walking down a dark path with good intentions.

---

Room 10 was a small, cramped, rundown apartment identical to every other that had been housed in that building. The doorway led straight to a combination kitchen and sitting room with a single bedroom and bathroom off to the right. It was dark; there wasn't a window and the lights no longer worked. While a bit of natural light streamed in through cracks in the roof, it had taken the young man a while to learn where to step without creating unnecessary noise or tripping. He turned into the bedroom, opening the door slowly and tapping on the wood in two quick beats, pausing, and tapping it twice more. In response he was met with sound of something being clicked on and a flicker of light appearing from the other side of an old mattress. He walked forwards, Angel at his heels.

On the far side of the room, a young girl sat beside an old camping stove with her knees drawn up to her chest. She was very slim, her skin drawn and pale. Long black hair tumbled down her back, fading to a pale silver below her shoulders. Her piercing blue eyes stared up at him, like slivers of illuminated ice. A weak grin spread across her face as her brother dropped whatever caution he'd taken and ran across the floorboards to her, dropping to his knees and pulling her into a hug.

Is it safe? she signed with her hands, a skill her brother had taught her, and even though he'd never told her exactly where he'd learned it, he knew she had her guesses. Tempest nodded, and, with a small smile, tossed the stiff grey blanket over her. "It's not much, but it should help you stay a bit warmer," he said, sitting back and moving to let Angel hurry over to greet Breeze, who didn't get a chance to respond as the collie launched herself at the 15 year old. Tugging the sweatshirt over his head, he handed that to his sister as well, who had been able only to wear a flimsy grey shirt and her favorite crop top since the disasters had broken out. Breeze's eyes widened as she reached over Angel to take it, who took that as her cue to contain her enthusiasm and calm down. "Where did you even find that? Didn't all of the clothing stores either get looted or burned down?" Tempest nodded. "All of the nearby ones, yes." Breeze blinked. "How far did you go?"

Tempest shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Angel. The collie ignored him, and he got the sense she wasn't going to help him out of having this conversation once again. With an internal sigh, he responded, "Just a little past the city outskirts." Breeze's face immediately fell into a frown. "Tempest..." He grimaced. "I didn't even find the person this time! Honest, I was only able to scout out their trail." "You don't know what happens to those people afterwards, though," his sister pointed out, and the melancholy in her voice felt like a knife thrust into his chest. He brushed it away. "I do what I have to do to keep us safe. These are people who would break in here and hurt you with no remorse. Whatever happens to them doesn't matter." Even in the dim lighting, he could tell from his sister's face what she was about to say. "Please don't bring Mum into this," he said gently, sadly, putting a hand on her shoulder. Breeze glanced away. It had been 3 years since the Clare's mother had been killed, but nothing would ever make the siblings forget the roughly hewn stone cross in the basement marking the place they'd buried her together after rushing home from school to find her with the bite marks of the creatures who now roamed the earth on her throat and chest.

Angel stepped forwards to leaned into Tempest, sensing his hurt, then turned and laid her chin on Breeze's shoulder. The young man never found himself ceasing to be grateful for her presence. Shaking his head and running his hand through the collie's fur, he tried to reassure his sister. "I can stay for a little while, now, though. I know that took awhile, but I probably won't have to go again for at least a couple days." The 15 year old nodded, appearing to force a smile, then distractedly began to put the sweatshirt on. As her hand touched the front pocket, she paused, then laughed, slipping her hand in to pull out a cardboard box. "You didn't!" "You know, most practical people didn't seem interested in looting the hair products sections," he said with amusement as his sister admired the silver hair dye. Breeze shook her head with a grin, then leaned forwards and hugged him again.

As Angel joined the embrace, Tempest once again silently promised to do anything, anything at all, to protect his younger sister. She and Angel were all he had left.

---

Diablo slowly grows tired of just "sitting" there letting out to unworldly Screech anyway immediately razor quickly opens their eyes, jerking his body in surprise they unintentionally fall off toward the floor below barely catching their feet on the ground without spraining a ankle. But razor doesn't hinder on this too long instinctively raising his arms as they catch Diablo lowering them down, as the two stared at each other for a bit before he says one simple word "smell & guide" before slowly putting Diablo down.

But what in the world does Sniff and guide mean? well razor train Diablo to do certain tasks and the word is spoken let's start with..."guide". Since razor is partially blind he has a horrible sense of Direction and thank to Diablo's wide range of howling screeches, they made a special tone for each Direction being "forward, right, left, as well backwards." Making razor able to easily register what direction to walk toward...now let's do "sniff" thanks to Tasmanian Devil's strong sense of smell making this very useful for Diablo to catch certain scents, them they Take razors towards it so they can deem it "unimportant" or "important" to take for each other and only each other.

As Diablos paw place on the ground they begin wildly shoving their nose onto the rough dirt, letting out light grants for left unhesitantly charging towards that direction. Razor begin unevenly speedwalking after the Blackish blob, almost tripping on the rough dirt a few time "you sure like going fast don't you?"' he lets out a small chuckle.

---

A sudden growl causes Tayla to snap out of her trance. She glances over towards the hole in their 'house.' Faustus was perched by the entrance, his tail lashing and his shoulders hunched, as if he were prepared to pounce. He turns his head towards her, as if to see if she were paying attention before once again returning his gaze to the road. Slowly and ever so quietly Tayla rises to her feet. Her crossbow was all the way across the room and based upon Faustus' reaction, the danger was close. Would she want to risk going after her weapon and possibly drawing attention to herself? Then there was the situation of having to carry it through the crawlspace. An easy, but not so quiet task. Even dragging herself through it wasn't a quiet task. Maybe she should just stay in hiding? But if, whoever was approaching them, were dangerous, she would be trapped. It wouldn't exactly be difficult to smoke them out.

Yet another growl erupts from Faustus followed by a hiss. Yep, hiding wasn't going to be an option at this rate. Tayla lowers her head, shaking it and laughing. Would she even want to stay in hiding anyway? That was boring. If someone were stupid enough to hunt her in the daylight, then she would take them by surprise!

Fueled by that prideful thought, Tayla reacts without logical thought. She leaves her weapons behind and crawls through the opening. Tayla kicks the rope down and leaps off the ledge, landing smoothly on the ground. She winces before rising to her feet. Her landing may have been clean, but jumping off a twelve foot drop onto gravel wasn't exactly painless.

She narrows her eyes at the tasmanian devil and boy standing before her. They had yet to react to her surprising entrance, but was it possible they were just passing through? She turns to look towards Faustus, glaring at him before returning her gaze to the intruders. "What brings you over here?" She asks coldly. "If you came here to rob me then I'm afraid you just made a very crucial mistake!"

---

Razor jump slightly back from the sudden voice looking up to see a blurred silhouetted figure in front of him but except...they didn't look like a Beast...but instead a human?

They don't seem to respond to this threat at all instead giving a squinting stare as he tilts his head back and forth, it takes a moment for razor to register any action or what's in front of him thanks to there clear yet obvious Blind Eye.

Diablo doesn't seem to notice either but that's from having their face in the ground as they bump into Tayla, leg causing them to snap out of it does just for her to retreat in between razors legs letting out a small clearly spook growl at the two.

---

That's when Faustus joins her. His gaze settles on the smaller creature for a moment before he turns away dismissively to stand by Tayla's side. He was far calmer now than he was just seconds ago. Paying more attention to a small sound in the distance- presumably a rat moving around nearby- than the two newcomers standing in front of them.

Maybe it was the way the boy was clearly straining his eyes to see her. Or maybe it was the way the boy didn't seem to be in a hurry to grab a weapon, or even move for that matter that caused her to relax. They weren't a threat and if they were, he was putting on an Oscar worthy performance to make her lower her guard. Once again, she glares at Faustus. Why had he reacted to them as if they were a threat when they clearly weren't?

Still, she wouldn't be a fool. It was dangerous to lower your guard. But she couldn't help but pity the poor boy. "I'm sorry" she mumbles, glancing away in obvious embarrassment. "I thought you were here to rob me... Or worse." Without moving her head, she glances sideways at him. It was unlikely, but not impossible, that he was passing by just to go on a recreational walk. Maybe he was looking for supplies? But with an eye-sight like that, it wouldn't be an easy task.

It's not your problem... Just leave it. It's not you're pro-

"If you're looking for supplies you won't find anything in this area. I also wouldn't recommend walking around here" she explains remembering Darren. Just because Darren wasn't a threat then doesn't mean he wouldn't be a threat later. "Would you like some help?" She offers.

---

Razor seems baffled for a second from the Sudden offer especially in this climate? they seem to hesitate for a second... half of them very clearly wanted to say no but they couldn't help feeling a genuinely helpful tone of it.

"..sure.." they reply as razor jerking there head back eye shifting sideways back making him able to see a little bit more clearly, though very clear that they lack socialize skills by there unbreaking stare towards everything even if it can get quite unsettling.

Diablo slowly stop growing shortly letting out a strong sneeze from all the dusty dirt in their nose.

---

"Excellent" Tayla replies. Like Razor, she didn't exactly have lots of experience with socializing casually with others. Unless you count flaunting your skills and intimating an enemy as a social skills. Yeah... Maybe not.

Still, she knew that it wouldn't be too comforting to have a stranger suddenly join in on your activities. Especially in this world. In his shoes, she'd be planning an escape. Tayla was a walking red flag afterall. She may be weaponless, but that didn't exactly mean she wasn't a threat. She knew what comes next, she should try to seem less like an enemy and more like a good Samaritan.

"What are you doing by the way?" She asks as casually as possible. She is careful to keep her distance to hopefully keep Razor at ease. "I'm Tayla- Tayla Mckee, by the way. Pleasure to meet you. Don't fret all that much, I promise I won't demand any payment for your temporary bodyguard services" she adds with an amused grin. Her eyes dart away from to scan the surroundings. She didn't see anyone the last few minutes she looked around for danger and the results were still the same now. Still, one could never be too careful.

---

Razor lets out a slight amuse grin before answering the question "sleeping in a tree as Diablo wakes me up to do some exercise..." they say bluntly, he didn't really believe hiding things just someone to find out eventually sooner or later "Oh right...they call me razor I guess" quickly adding.

His orange eye glace onto tayla far but not too far away sensing that they were keeping his distance for him, but in reality he didn't really care if she comes near as long they don't do something fishy.

But their attention soon grips away "Oh right...Sniff" tthey state as Diablo begins to sniff the ground again hoping to catch the scent of anything noteworthy.

---

Razor lets out a slight amuse grin before answering the question "sleeping in a tree as Diablo wakes me up to do some exercise..." they say bluntly, he didn't really believe hiding things just someone to find out eventually sooner or later "Oh right...they call me razor I guess" quickly adding.

His orange eye glace onto tayla far but not too far away sensing that they were keeping his distance for him, but in reality he didn't really care if she comes near as long they don't do something fishy.

But their attention soon grips away "Oh right...Sniff" tthey state as Diablo begins to sniff the ground again hoping to catch the scent of anything noteworthy.

---

"Hm, exercise huh?" That didn't sound like a stretch. After all, in this cutthroat world, survival came down to the fittest. Still, she couldn't remember the last time she partook in recreational activities. Scratch that, she couldn't remember the last time she needed to partake in recreational activities. Her job was physically demanding enough.

She had a feeling that Razor wouldn't want to have a conversation with her and the last thing she wanted to do was to seem like she was antagonizing him. So instead she silently treads alongside him, keeping her eyes and ears peeled for danger. Whenever it was a creature or another person, she would have to stay alert.

Faustus would be better for the job, but he seemed to be following alongside her only because he had to. He had returned his gaze to Diablo, curious of the creature and what it was doing. Tayla would be lying if she said she wasn't curious as well but she doesn't question Razor about it. Maybe it's time for a change in career? Tayla wonders with a smile.

---

Razor tilts his head & eye as they look intently at cat like figure next to tayla, he was still unable to make out what
species but at least they can tell it's some kind of big cat.

"so what's up with your cat buddy following ya" razor ask in a casual blunt tone while pointing at faustus. they don't seem like the most emotional person in the world, with their casual tone and simple pointing seeming to ignore tayla curiosity also.

Diablo feels the Curious gaze from faustus turning to glance back in respond, they begin slowly approaching them starting to sniff their fur gently.

---

"That's a very good question and I'm afraid I don't have much of an answer for it" Tayla replies. "He appeared shortly after the world fell apart. I would've chased him off if not for this odd connection I feel towards him... It's as if he is another physical part of myself." That theory proved to be true, because whenever Faustus got injured she did as well. Fortunately, the intelligent creature didn't get injured all that often.

Tayla walks in silent for a moment, watching as Faustus pretends to act indifferent towards the creature. But his gaze keeps returning to the creature and the road ahead, as if he were afraid that a sudden danger would randomly appear at any moment and target the smaller animal.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" The question slips out without warning. Tayla's eyes widen when she realizes that she had blurted that out. "You don't need to answer that if you don't want to" she quickly adds.

---

Razor head rise up as his ear catch the unprovoked question suddenly their behavior change in a dine, they unhesitantly glare deep into Tayla eye with near-perfect accuracy only for a hard second before tearing them away. Flicking his hand razor loudly growls "wouldn't you like to know" before tilting their head back down, it was slight but you could hear a small trouble defensive tone instead in his growl. Soon he began coaxing his arms more mainly the scratches on it, or all over his body for that matter seeming to be worried that they would ask about those next.

Diablo seems to change also letting small unprovoked growl toward faustus only for a second as they scramble a bit farther away from them, she suddenly begins licking her broken dull claws seeming to be self concern about them greatly.

---

The sudden aggression should've scared her. In fact, it should've been terrifying to the weaponless girl. Yet she only felt relieved. Because there it was! This was what she was searching for. His fighting spirit. Nobody could survive this long on their own without one. So why did he keep it hidden for so long?

Laughing out loud, Tayla stops walking to meet his gaze, at least before he turned away. "Now, now, no need to bite my head off" she replies smoothly, the smug smile never leaving her lips. "I apologise, I really didn't mean to ask that out loud. I was just curious. It's understandably a touchy subject."

She narrows her eyes, watching him closely. The scratches... something had to happen to him, but what? "You speak with such contempt..." She turns away, dismissively staring at the road ahead. "I won't pry anymore." She promises.

---

sto·ry
/ˈstôrē/
noun
an account of past events in someone's life or in the evolution of something.
"the story of modern farming"

Evolution and Story..such funny words. Odd words. Words that Darcy pondered as she walked slowly down a forgotten street, filled with piles of rubble that she neatly navigated, her long legs taking giant steps that made it seem as if she were gracefully waltzing despite the dangerous territory. The area that Darcy was once quiet, but as she made her way through it, the silence fled. Like birds disturbed by a sudden movement and flapping their wings to hurry away, the curtain of stillness melted away with the sound of her feet crunching through the gravel, her throaty humming, and the soft rustle of the feathers on the crow that perched on her shoulder. "Almost like a parrot," she said aloud, cutting off the humming, and laughed, a harsh grating sound that matched the tired look on her face. The crow opened its beak and cawed softly as well, almost as if it were laughing along with her.

Many would have asked why Darcy acted so carelessly. After all, weren't there monsters about? Was she confident in some hidden ability? No, for Darcy carried no hidden weapons, no disguised talents, nothing, in fact, but the sword strapped to her back. There was no one to ask Darcy why she was being so flippant with her life, but if someone were to ask, she would have told them this-"Simply don't care anymore. I only carry this sword because it's the last bit of my past I have left. Anyone, or anything for that matter, could kill me easily. I'm just lucky I'm not dead yet." She skirted around the edge of the building, resuming her humming as the crow shifted its position. Soon, the humming turned to hoarse singing. A little off-key, yes, but nonetheless haunting and sad, as if the weight of the world had placed itself on the shoulders of the singer. Maybe, in a way, it had.

"Are you, are you, coming to the tree. A thief does stand there, his treasures at his feet. Sad he'll be going soon but won't you come and see. How the world does prey on, the thief under the tree."

Darcy kept walking. Eventually, the crow leaped from her shoulder and began flying ahead. "Foolish thing to do," she grunted, jumping over a pile of rock. "Suppose a monster finds you, or some poor starving human." The raven didn't seem to care, but it circled once before landing back on her shoulder just as a breeze picked up, brushing Darcy's hair before letting it hang limp, hooding her eyes. She paused, seeing two others talking, it seemed. They had creatures near them as well? Fascinating, it seemed. She didn't stop humming, just watched.

---

Not good...

The movement was small. Tayla would've missed it if not for the fact that she was trying look anywhere but at Razor. For a second she thought she imagined it- the crow in the sky. But her eyes follow the bird as it sails towards the ground and perches onto a stranger's shoulder. Where did she come from?

Her hand moves towards her back on instinct and she grasps at nothing. That's right, I left the crossbow at home. She tries to lower her hand as casually as possible. Easy now... She glances at Razor at the corner of her eye. Was he seeing this? "We have company" she whispers.

She didn't want to assume that this stranger was dangerous. She couldn't be, if she were, why would she not try to hide herself? But her paranoia cautioned her to not lower her guard. Next to her, Faustus was doing a poor job at pretending to not see the woman. His ears were pulled back and he was growling at the stranger.

---

Darcy's humming didn't falter, and neither did her staring. A small smile crept onto her face, and she looked to the bird on her shoulder, reaching up with one finger to scratch it, and the bird's inky black eyes turned to her, blinking slowly. The smile widened a little, though it remained sad. "Look, Del, there's people here," she said with a dry chuckle. "Haven't seen those for a while. Nice, isn't it?" The crow squawked, staring back at the two strangers, and Darcy said a little more quietly, "It's rude to stare, Del."

---

Perhaps it was a testament to how long Rikka had been doing this but divvying up the supplies that had been fought over was quite simple. There wasn't much in the bag to begin with so Rikka simply split up the items between the two combatants and took the hemp bag that it had been stored in. Quite the simple solution and Calliope also seemed please if the goat's chauffing was anything to go by. The two of them were sorely in need of a new bag anyways, the old one having ripped and broken beyond what meager sowing skills Rikka had picked up could save. With an almost firm tug of the shawl draped over brown hair, Rikka set out to brave the windstorms again. Sparing one last glance back at the crumbled ruins of what was once a enterprises undoubtedly lavish foyer where the young survivor slept behind the broken steel counter, Rikka only tugged the sea foam shawl and ducked into the howling plains accompanied only by the low canter of hooves against withered grass.

Calliope's deep red fur turned, eyes brimming with more intelligence than any goat could have pinning Rikka in place as the two walked. "Coward." The white gleam of bone sparkling under the midday sun, exposed as thick fur and liquid muscle sloughed off the deamon's skeleton and tongue hitting the barren dirt as it melted with the vitriol it was spat with. The screeching gales carried away the crumbling skeleton, dust in the wind and contempt in the earth.

"I know." Rikka replied, her hand ruffling the soft fur of his daemon, their steps never faltering as clouds of ancient dust was kicked up in its wake with Calliope keeping stride as always.

---