Spirit of Australia

[Poker Face]

Faith
Faith bent down to inspect the soiled flag on the ground, the concrete beneath it littered with green and gold confetti.
"Aw, I'm gonna miss Australia." She said, "And Steve Irwin."

"What with their accents and all, I'm kinda sad to see 'em go."
John gave her a funny look, and continued scanning the area thoroughly for Infected.

John
John turned away from a sarcastically mourning Faith, grimacing as he wiped the bile from a dead patriot.
"Now that's just sad." He said, shaking his head and wiping the green substance from his hands.
It stank something awful. He'd seen (and smelt) some awful things in his life, but, hell, Boomer Bile?
He'd rather choke on a skunk.

It had been depressing entering Australia, the patriotic spirit had been tainted by the dusty, raspy stronghold of the Infection.
"Is anybody as disgusted by this as I am?" He asked, frowning as he wiped the bile onto the grass.

[RabidSponge]

- S A M U E L -

Samuel tried not to gag as his eyes ran across the corpses and the trail of celebration lining the roads. What was supposed to be a happy time of celebration was instead the dawn of the Infection, given birth in a new country.
No-one expected Australia to fall. They were such a strong and proud country, they didn’t seem like they would let something like the Infection hold them back.
Australia was invincible.
But even heroes bleed.

“Steve Irwin died forever and a day ago,” Samuel whispered sadly, taking a handful of confetti and tossing it into the air, watching with glazed eyes as it fluttered back to the ground. “Stingray got ‘im…”

Samuel suddenly didn’t feel so patriotic anymore.

- D A M I E N -

“Trust me, Ninjohn,” Damien began, crawling around the bloodstained road, sniffing for the scent of a Survivor. He didn’t find any. Not any that were close, or any that belonged to his friends, at least. “When you’ve seen what I’ve seen… well, hypothetically seen, this is like a picnic in the park. London was a slaughterfest." The Hunter squeezed his eye sockets closed, trying to block out the creeping image of the wise land of England; Australia’s mother country, being struck down by Infected after Infected.

"And I was there to witness it.”
He couldn’t even look away.

- S C O T T -

Scott couldn’t help but heave a sob; the city he had grown up in was lying before him in ruins. He remembered the tall buildings, reaching to the sky and showing off their gleam. The cars bustling across the highways and loways, giving him headache after headache as he struggled to wrap his mind around where everyone could be going. The water down in the harbour sparkled beneath the hot, Australian sun, and the cheering of the crowds as they realised they were ‘immune’ to the Infection.

He remembered it well.

The first Infected to attack were those in the crowds, who had suddenly become confused and enraged by the deafening sound. Clawing, ripping and stabbing had ensued from there, and slowly, more and more Infected began to join in. The cries of joy had been replaced with those of terror, as the people of the city began to flee, running for their lives.

Then the Hunters came.
There was a pack of them, all reasonably old; in their twenties, or so. Joining in with the horde, they had clawed and picked off even more of the parade goers. And it had all been caught on camera.

Scott had been sitting in his home when it happened, watching the parade on TV. From beneath his dyed black hair, he saw everything. It was worse than the horror movies he watched late at night, and the scars that lined his wrists seemed to shrink back like paper cuts. Compared to this, his own pain was like a party.

He hadn’t spoken since then; since arriving in the city, and joining up with a group of foreign Survivors.
Was he the only Australian left alive?

---------

[Ooc: AAAAAAAND SCOTT MAKES AN APPEARANCE. 8D
Truth be told, I'm going with the flow when it comes to him, just like you and John. I'm learning about his character through role-playing.
CHEER UP, EMO KID.
Derp, I wonder who those mysterious Hunters could be...? :'D *coughcoughIwonderifyouknowcough*
YAYLONGPOSTTHATLOOKSALITTLEINTOSCOTT'SLIFEBUTNO-ONEREALLYCARESDERP.]

[Poker Face]

[INSERT CHRISTOPHER. YEAAAAAH.]

John
John sighed, running a hand through his hair, a contemplative trait of his. The once proud nation had fallen to a desolate mess, and it was heartbreaking to see the people nobody thought the Infection could reach crumble upon the dreaded virus.

"I feel for you, son." He agreed, nodding to the Hunter, even though he knew it would remain unseen.
"Agh, Jesus." He muttered, seeing the dainty corpse of an infant face-down in a puddle.
"You think you've seen everything, but nothing can prepare you for this, y'know? And I've seen some pretty shit stuff."

Faith
Faith sniffed, holding her hand to her forehead in a universal 'Damsel-in-distress' pose, a heavy sigh escaping her lips with the heavy weight of drama.
"Oh, Mr. Irwin still holds a place in my heart. God bless you, Crocodile wrangling soldier." She said.
She earned another funny gaze from John, before the actual soldier turned back to his own thoughts.

Christopher
Christopher rolled his eyes, rather aggrovated with the emotional mix of drama and sadness that seemed embedded in the Survivor's minds today. It wasn't right, they were all peppy and cheery when Keith was around, which would hide his true disposition from the world entirely.

Now, when he was flying his true colours, they weren't half as cheery.
The bedraggled Survivor they'd picked up off the streets seemed twice as bad. Hadn't said a word since they found him. It vaguely reminded him of his younger sibling, but, he refrained from thinking about the boy, lest he miss him too much.
After all, the boy was in the capable hands of a Nurse. With Lollipops.

"Shit, dude, cheer up." Christopher said, smiling and lighting a cigarette. He would have thought against it on any other day, but, in light of his docile chrysalis shedding, he offered one to the depressed teen.

[I can't wait. I can't wait.
Must know moar.
Must know moar.]

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: Oh Christopher, you’re so Ninja! XD Randomly popping out of nowhere to flick a cigarette at poor Scott.]

---------

- S A M U E L -

Samuel frowned, ignoring Faith’s melodramatic actions. He just couldn’t bring himself to laugh with her right now. Everything was just too… horrible for him to feel happy. He could feel his soft hazel eyes welling up with tears, and he forcefully ripped his eyes from the road.

“This is so messed up,” He choked out, stumbling on his own words and coughing from the immense debris that hung in the air. “And I thought it was bad back at Mercy Hospital…”

- D A M I E N -

Christopher’s presence was disturbing. Damien had never seen… experienced having the elder boy around without his little brother tagging along at his heels like a lost puppy. Even the man’s scent was different, and many a time over the past few hours had he mistaken him for someone else; a new Survivor, a Smoker, or a Common Infected.

“Never knew you smoked,” Damien said to Christopher, his words meaning no harm, but probably coming off harsher than he intended. “Careful you don’t become Infected. Friends tell me being a Smoker is the worst.”

- S C O T T -

Dark brown eyes slid up from beneath long, black bangs, glancing at the cigarette. Squeezing his nose up in disgust, Scott snapped his eyes closed once more, gripping onto his elbows and shaking his head.

He didn’t smoke. He had asthma.
Smoke and asthma didn’t mix too well.

How could he cheer up? How?!
In a matter of hours (Or days. Time was simply rushing past him), everything he had known and loved had been ripped away from him. He had friends who had gone to the parade; relatives, aquaintances. They were all dead. Dead or Infected. Scott was waiting for the moment he laid eyes on someone he knew, lying face down in a pool of their own blood.

He knew he’d scream.

Why couldn’t it have been him? Why couldn’t he have joined them during their downfall. No… God was cruel. He wouldn’t have let him die. He would make him watch as everything he knew crumbled around him to dust.
He wasn’t going to get out of this that easily.

---------

[Scott’s hair was so originally blonde. He just dyed it black when he realised that “life was f***ing with him.” (Actual quote said by him).
Oh Scott, sweetie. We still love you, kid. D:
He’s totally asthmatic. |D
THE HUNTERS FROM BEFORE WERE SO COMPLETELY TOTALLY NOT THE PARKOUR INSTRUCTORS. NO. NOT AT ALL. >3<]

[Poker Face]

Christopher
Christopher scowled, rolling his eyes without a care.
"Fuck Smokers. I'll turn into whatever the hell I want." He answered lazily. Besides, he was immune, right? He had to be, if he were to protect Keith his whole life.

"That's the spirit, Christopher! You're starting to swing my way." Faith grinned.
Not a good sign.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He replied, shaking Faith off. She looked huffed, but quickly, he shot the laziest of 'Endearing Gazes' at the girl, and he could have sworn he saw the anger melt like butter into a smitten smile.

Faith
Faith lost herself in a gaze.
And that was that.

Not another word from her.

John
John watched the dysfunctional team, shaking his head. He was vaguely aware of Christopher's devilish side, but, hell, couldn't he keep himself at least to a decent status?
"Christopher, don't give her that look. It's fraudulent." He scolded, though, unable to keep a grin from showing under the almost parental lecture.

Putting the split-personality out of his mind, he focused on the newest Survivor.
Broken, confused and lost. He knew that feeling.
"Son," He said, walking over to the teen, "Don't mind them. We'll get you out of here in one piece, alright?" He promised.
John put two fingers to his forehead in a brief emulation of a salute.
"Soldier's honour, it'll be alright eventually."

[Blegh, this post sucks, sorry. DX
BETTER POST NEXT TIME.
Those Parkour Hunters are fairly AWESOME AND MUST TEACH US REGARDLESS OF THE INFECTION.]

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: This Christopher scares me… D:
I can sort of imagine them getting into a bit of an arguement, with Christopher saying things like:
"Cheer up, emo kid."
"Hey! I don't want to cheer up!"
"...Shouldn't you be more upset I called you emo?"
"No. Why?"]

---------

- D A M I E N -

Damien frowned, tossing his head and growling beneath his hood. Christopher was beginning to remind him of someone, someone from his past who he’d much prefer to forget.
He wanted to claw the both of them to death, right about now.

“Alright, bloody hell,” Damien mumbled, rolling onto his back and embracing the darkness that came with the silence. “There is no need to ‘lose your cool’.”
That last part of his sentence must have sounded awkward. He could have sworn he heard snickering coming from somewhere. Good thing he couldn’t see who it was from.

- S A M U E L -

Samuel wasn’t really ‘with’ the team right now. The blonde boy was busy staring off at the seemingly endless road, littered with hundreds of corpses, and even a few Infected. The amount of death and destruction here was disturbing the poor Magician, driving him to do something he’d never thought of ever doing before.

BAM.

He shot a Common Infected right in the chest.
Of his own free will.

- S C O T T -

Scott shrieked and propelled himself towards John, responding to the gunshot ringing through the near empty air. The sudden, loud bang had startled him; he could feel his heart thumping in his head. The sudden shock caused the gothic boy’s asthma to work up a little, and he coughed a little too violently a few times into his hand.
He hoped no-one noticed the blood that came up with it.

“Bloody hell!” Damien cried, having flipped over on his stomach and smashing his face into the road. “What the hell was that?”
There was no reply from the mysterious blonde, standing with his arm raised, pistol pointed at the falling Infected.

“Come on, can someone please explain to me what just happened? I cannot see, remember?”

---------

[Ooc: GASP. SAMUEL, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
WE DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE INFECTED, IT MAKES YOU KIDDIES ALL THE MORE AWESOME. 8D *hugs Zoey*]

[Poker Face]

[He scares me too. I'm trying to make him a little more rational, buuut, it's hard. XD
HAH HAH. YES. YES. I like that argument. Very much. :'D]

Faith
Faith was somewhat startled by the sudden Gunfire. Having been lost in a lovestruck void, she was surprised to even hear any gunshots in the calm that was set in the air now.
She was even more surprised when she saw who it came from.

"Holy crap." She said, rather bluntly.
She was too smitten to notice, but the this malevolent change in Australia had brought a change almost as chilling to the rag-tag team of Survivors themselves. Even though they were still built on the same, dysfunctional layer as always, with a new life strung around with them, the Apocalypse was enough to apparently throw the world off balance and everybody's mentality with it.

Christopher
Christopher barely jumped at the sound of a gun piercing through the air. The only thing that mildly struck him as curious was the fact that it had come from everybody's favourite, nervous, mousey magician.

"No need to 'lose your cool', Damien." He chuckled, "Samuel picked off a Common Infected."

In all honesty, Christopher's 'cool' peeled off like an ugly shell when he gave Keith to the trusting hands of Nurse Lola. He didn't like the cruel underbelly of his personality, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't eradicate it.
He was stuck with a cynical monster underneath a layer of gooness forever, and Keith was his anasthetic. With Keith, the bitterness melted away into a numb happiness.

John
John was a little taken aback by the sudden gunshot roaring through the silence. Especially since it had come from the shy Magician.
"Calm down, everybody." He said, giving the startled boy behind him a comforting pat on the back.

Everybody was probably tired, and on edge from everything. Especially this 'Scott' boy THE BOY.
The Infection was one that sawed constantly at the nerves of those immune, and the first few days were the hardest. He remembered coping with his own. On his own.
"Is everything quite alright, boys?" He aked, looking at both the teens.

Frankly, the whole team was acting as if the Infection had taken their sense of rationality completely. But they were tired, and this happened every now and again. After so long of trudging through a new, depressing environment, it got to the team's minds.

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: It’s okay, Christopher. We still love you. D: Even if you are being a prick to Dai-Dai. >3<
JOHN IS MAGICAL MAGICAL. HE KNEW SCOTT’S NAME WITHOUT HIM EVEN TELLING HIM. 8D]

---------

- D A M I E N -

“Samuel? You’re joshing me, aren’t you?” Damien replied, frowning at Christopher’s choice of words. The brunette didn’t particularly liked being mocked. “Seriously though, who shot the gun?”
The bespectacled Hunter wasn’t going to risk having a shaky Survivor lodge a bullet into his skull.

Quietcalling not so quietly (Oops), Damien was greeted to the blurred, static-y image of the Magician, gun raised, eyes transfixed on his unmoving target.

Oh, wow.

- S A M U E L -

Samuel cracked out into soft laughter, a rugged, unnerving smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Hazel eyes wide, he watched in satisfaction as the twitching body of the Common Infected ceased to move.

“J-Just me,” He assured Damien, his shoulders shaking a little as he let his arm fall limply to his side. “Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about…”
Without saying another word, the blonde turned on his heel and shuffled back towards the group, eyes downcast and hidden behind his hair.

Something was up with him…

- S C O T T -

Scott frowned and shook his head, his black hair bobbing along with him, blonde roots standing out in stark contrast. He ambled away from John, leaving his shield behind and returning himself to the open once more. The slightly emo boy tugged at his tight fitting black shirt nervously, dark eyes darting around the Survivors he was stuck with.

He didn’t trust them. No, he really didn’t. Especially that blonde kid; Samuel. It was always the quiet, shy ones that cracked the hardest.
Scott knew that well. He’d been down that road himself.

---------

[Ooc: Oh snap, Samuel, what’s up? D: *huggles the blonde*
Now now, don’t go shooting random Infected heads off.
DURRHURRDAMIENTALKSFUNNY.]

[Poker Face]

[I guess it just shows that Christopher really needs Keith as a stabilizer. :\
NO HE DOESN'T. HAH HAH. -edits the post- XD
Lawl. :'D]

John
Call John strange, but the sentiment pouring out of every moment they spent at the corroding street seemed to down the whole team with every slow second that trailed by.
If they didn't get moving, who knew what would come for them?

"I suggest we start moving again." He stated, looking from Samuel, to Damien, to the distressed boy, to the split-personality, and to Faith. The strain of the Infection didn't only have an affect on the Infected. It was as if the whole country emitted this weary aura, that just sucked the spirit out of the team.

As if the ground they stood on was trying to steal away their spirit to revive it's own.
John's gaze lingered for a moment on the newest addition to their team.
Eyes stuck to the moist ground, like some heavy, intense emotional was concrete splitting through him. He knew what that was like.
John wouldn't bother the boy in his grieving. It was best they got to shelter first.

Faith
Faith, through springly thoughts, half-heartedly shrugged.
She wasn't really listening.

Her mind was taken more by Australia, it's dead citizens, and Christopher's previous gaze ratherthan John's voice of rationality.

Christopher
Christopher shut his eyes to the team for a moment. Had Keith been here, he would have been the one to say that. He would have been the one to be slowly analysing the ticking that was clicking away in everybody's head at every moment, figuring out what was hanging over their heads.

He was too wrapped up in his own guilty pleasure, the smoke filling his lungs and the lack of care in his mind.
With a cough, he ignored the icy pain in his lungs (A regular occurence) and shrugged.
"I'd like to get to a Safehouse."

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: Ffffffff… Ninjohn is no longer magical. xD
Awwwwww, Christopher. D: It’ll be alright, buddy. You’ll see Keith again soon.]

---------

- S C O T T -

Without a word, Scott ambled forward, head lowered and hands wringing themselves together. He didn’t know where he was going; despite having grown up a short distance away from the city. He was just allowing his feet to do the walking, and his body and mind were simply following suit.

Scott wished he could just wake up, and be back with his family at home.
What had happened to them, anyway? The somewhat neurotic young boy couldn’t remember…

- D A M I E N -

"Yes Christopher, we all would," Damien grumbled, a newfound spite for the elder male's alter ego growing in his stomach. "I think I established earlier that it would be difficult. Australia was not prepared for the Infection in any way possible."

The new Survivor was moving away, he could recognise his light footsteps, barely making a sound along the ground. Not wanting the distressed teenager to get mauled by a horde, being unarmed and all, he growled lowly and crawled after him, warning other Infected off.

He could 'see' the black-haired local jump in response to Damien’s hiss. Maybe he should be more careful around him. The poor kid was still quite jumpy.

- S A M U E L -

Samuel was twitching. That couldn’t mean anything good. His breath was coming out in short, heavy gasps, almost like he needed to breath harder, faster in order to keep in touch with reality. The Infection was overwhelming him; not the disease itself, but the after-effect it had on the Survivors.

Death, disease, famine and murder was everywhere in this world. The Magician was finding it harder to cope.

Ambling along at the back of the group, Samuel followed, his mind not quite where it should be.

---------

[Ooc: Silly Damien, I don't know what you're talking about. You never told the other Survivors anything like that! xD
Why do I get the feeling that Christopher and Damien are going to be at each other's necks for the next while?]

[Poker Face]

Christopher
Christopher frowned, rolling his eyes as he ventilated a cloud of smoke through his nose, a fiery look in his ever-changing eyes. It looked demonic, smoke filtering from the boy.
"I hate the name Christopher." He said, taking another puff, "Couldn't you call me something less annoying?"

"But I thought you liked your name." John answered.
"Not me. He does," Christopher pointed to his temples, as if referring to the quiet intellectual he started off as, "But I..."
The split personality put his hand to his heart.
"I don't."

John
John frowned. He just couldn't predict these children, and even though he loved them like family, it was a war just trying to understand them.
Samuel and Christopher, the children he least expected to do the things they'd been doing that day, were, well, just acting strangely.
But that was the Infection.

But that was what it was like for all teenagers, and he still adored them, and would give his all for each of them.

Soldier's duty, after all.
"Regardless of your name, we should move, before a horde comes." He finished, pulling out his own pack of Cigarettes, coincidentally, the same brand as Christopher's.
Faith shrugged, not having said much since Christopher's endearing bind. It'd wear off sooner or later, like it always did.

But the Soldier had a touch of concern for the newest Teenager.
He'd let the boy be for now, he knew what it was like to lose everything that had ever mattered. But eventually, he was sure the Team, if not him, would give the teen arms to fall back in, if the boy ever needed them.

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: AAARRRRGH. THERE WERE SO MANY THINGS WRONG WITH MY LAST POST. D:
I fixed them now, though. <333]

---------

- D A M I E N -

Damien glanced back over his shoulder, raising a concealed eyebrow and sitting back on his haunches.

“He?” He asked, completely missing Christopher’s gesture to his own head. “Who’s ‘he’?” The Hunter reached out a hand and gently tugged on the jeans of the still-retreating Survivor, urging him to stop and wait. Quite frankly, he didn’t really trust the kid on his own.

Maybe John had a spare weapon he could lend him. Being unarmed in a zombie apocalypse was just plain dangerous.

- S C O T T -

Scott yelped and almost tripped over his feet, forcing himself to stop walking. That… a Hunter, was it? Whatever it was, he was asking him to wait. Wait for the team-mate who was sending shivers down his spine, the one that set off his asthma with his incessant smoking. The black-haired boy wanted to turn and run, to allow the Infection to engulf him and just let everything end already.
But if he did that, he would dissapoint his new ‘friends’.

And so he stood awkwardly, his hands wringing together as the shock of the Infection slowly engulfed his mind.

---------

[Ooc: Ahhhh, Samuel’s not really doing anything right now. |D
Silly Damien, completely missing Christopher/Finn’s gesture.
I get the strange feeling that Scott may say something soon...]

[Poker Face]

[BUT I SAW NOTHING WRONGGGGG. XD]

John
John sighed. He had almost forgotten how dysfunctional the team was.
But it was his team, and a pretty damn good one anyway. After all, they had gotten this far.

"He pointed to his head, Damien. He means the mild-mannered Christopher." He explained to the apparently confused Hunter.
Poor Damien, not being able to see would be harsh in this world, especially if he was essentially what could be called an Infected Survivor.
Just a warrior that kept on fighting when there was nothing left to win back.

Noting, in the corner of his eye, that the Hunter had actually caught the newest addition to their team sauntering off, he smiled, turning to the young boy.
"I wouldn't be wandering off, Son. Harsh out there, alone. And you ain't got a weapon." He nodded solemnly, as if they were in desolation row itself.

"We'll take care of you here, though." John added, remembering all too well the feeling of being alone, and remembering oh-so-clearly how the team had taken him under their wings.

Christopher

Christopher didn't like the sentiment that was reeking from the minutes they stood there.
It made him sick.
Had Keith been there, it would have made him happy. Would have given him hope, that there were more people out there, like them, like him, ready to be saved.
But without Keith, he had a cold feeling there weren't many left like them, and even less like him.

[EE. OHMYGOD.
-bubbles over from excitement-
John could give Scott his pistol if you want, by the way, unless you have anything in mind. XD]

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: YOU SEE NOTHING WRONG BECAUSE I WENT BACK AND CHANGED IT. 8D *wiggles arms*
Ummm… I don’t really have a plan. :’D FIRE AWAY, JOHN.]

---------

- D A M I E N -

Damien nodded, finally understanding what the changed boy was talking about.
Lacking sight as a dominant sense really took its toll on the person (or Infected) it affected. The brunette intellectual was growing tired of seeing nothing but darkness, and blurred, static-y images.

“Well, what would you prefer to be called then, hm?” The Hunter queried, a slight, unintentional venom creeping its way into his voice. There was something about this new Christopher that just bugged him; he couldn’t really put his finger on what it was.

- S C O T T -

Scott nodded, his hair falling in front of his face once more.
Why were these people being so nice to him? They’d only just met a few hours ago, yet they were acting as though he was one of them. As though he had been accepted.
Scott had never been ‘accepted’ before.

“Scott.” The word was soft and barely audible, but still there.
“Woah woah, hang on, what?” Samuel asked, the colour in his face returning and the look of insanity around him seeming to melt away. “Did anyone else just hear that?”
The dark-haired teenager wanted to say more, wanted to tell these people about himself, but the words just got caught in his throat.
A strange, gurgling noise sounded throughout the deserted city, placing Damien on alert.

“Boomer…?” The Hunter whispered, glancing around him cautiously.
What was a Boomer?

---------

[Ooc: So I’ve decided I’m going to make Damien much more impaired without his sight than he was before. He hasn’t learnt to rely on quiet-calling and utilising the surrounding sound to see yet, so he ends up mistaking a bundle of things. xD
OH MY GOLLY GOODNESS. SCOTT SAID HIS NAME.]

[Poker Face]

John
John frowned. Boomer? Really? Now?
Shit, of all the times, Boomers came during the most sentimental of moments.
"Aw, hell, a Boomer?" He sighed, lifting his beret and running his hand through his hair.
Well, the kid would need a weapon. First things first.

John fetched a pistol from his pocket, one he'd been carrying for emergencies. Of course, he'd have to find another one eventually, a Hunting Rifle was no use to a soldier stuck on the ground, but he'd survive for now.
"Nice to have you on board, Scott." He welcomed, managing a smile under the anxiety of the Boomer's prescence.
"Take this. Have you had any practise with a Firearm before?" He asked, scanning around as much as he could for the stealthy Boomer.
If not, John would have to do some training with the boy at the next Safehouse for sure.

Faith

Faith jumped into alert-mode, looking everywhere for the evasive Boomer.
"Basically," She explained, "A Boomer is a really fat zombie. If he pukes on you, more zombies come."
Readily, she cracked her knuckles and raised her Shotgun, a weapon for most satisfying Boomer kills.

"And another thing, don't shoot them if they're too close. They'll explode on you, and cover you in puke and guts." Faith added.
Not the most professional explanation, but it would do.

At least Samuel was looking like himself again. The magician had her worried for a second, it seemed as though split personalities were all the rage these days.

Christopher

Christopher detected the most subtle tint of an irritating distaste in the Hunter's voice, courtesy of the analytic skills the intellectual side of him had honed. He frowned, scowled and simply raised his Assault Rifle.

"Just keep an ear open." He growled, a subtle, concealed tease, half-focusing on locating the large Infected.

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: Derp, I originally meant that Scott made the retarded Boomer sound, and Damien was getting all paranoid, but this works too. :’D *goes back and changes her previous post to match this one*]

---------

- D A M I E N -

Damien nodded, a soft growl rumbling from his throat; half from the Boomer’s presence, and half from Christopher’s subtle insult. An ear out, oh real nice. Playing on the brunette’s tender strings of sight (or lack thereof), now was he?

“I can hear that disgusting gurgling of his,” He grumbled, shuddering at the memories of being covered in the cold, sticky, musky Boomer bile. “He’s close, but I can’t find him.” The Hunter sniffed along the ground, searching for the putrid scent of gastric juices and blubber that made up the tubby Infected’s body odour. Of course, just as he picked up the scent, the wind blew it away once more. Bloody hell…

“Please tell me someone can see it.”

- S C O T T -

Scott shook his head quickly, the unfamiliar weight of a gun in his hand unnerving. Never before in his life had he even touched one of those things, and he had never planned to.
Things don’t seem to turn out the way you expect them to.

“Boomer…” The quiet newcomer tried the word on his tongue, listening for any form of barfing, gurgling or other noises that made him want to be sick. Fear gripped his heart as his head whipped around, searching on all sides for the zombie. Turning behind him, Scott cried out in shock.

“Is… is that…?”

- S A M U E L -

Samuel spun around, wide eyes locking onto the Boomer running towards them as fast as it’s tubby little legs could carry it.

“Boomer!” He shrieked, raising his pistol and back-tracking quickly to avoid any puke the Infected may or may not have planned on spewing.
“Scott, come on! Get back! You're too close for us to shoot!”

The dark-haired boy appeared to be frozen in place.

[Poker Face]

[Another sucky post hereeee. Better one next timeeeee. Me sorryyyyy! ;-;
PffFaithyoumoron.]

Faith
Faith spotted the Boomer toddling excitedly up to them, the blubbery boils coating it's skin and wobbling like some grotesque jelly. It's wretched gurgling rang through the air while it readied it's bile.
The Boomer wanted to puke all over them all.
"Not on my watch, son of a bitch." She growled sourly, readying her Shotgun.

The Teen was far too carried away in a stupid flush of 'bravery' (Or possibly just foolishness) to realise that both Scott and herself were far too close to the Boomer to possibly come out clean.
So, with an unsuspecting grin on her face, Faith pulled the trigger, and the thick bullets came flying.
It ended with a boom.

Christopher

Christopher was trying his best to figure out how to get Scott out of the way of the Boomer. But hell, the kid was paralyzed, still as stone. But!
But Faith was close by, she'd pull the boy out of the way, right? Christopher had never been so thankful for her violent ways in his life.

But no.
His hope died when the girl poured led into the fat Infected.
"Ewwww, Shit!" Came her distressed cry.

"Stupid bitch!" He cursed under his breath.
Scott and Faith would be covered in the foul substance for sure. He didn't even want to turn their way, he'd get a nose-full of the stench. Instead, he'd focus on the horde he knew was coming.

John

John's hope for a safe journey to refuge was torn to shreds the very minute Faith even pointed the barell of her Shotgun to the Boomer's enormous gut.
"Freaking Horse-shit." He muttered.

Both Scott and Faith would be blinded by the most horrible stuff ever to plague the Earth.
Readying his Hunting Rifle, he scanned for the Horde he knew would be coming.
"Shit." He murmured.

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: Don’t worry about it, man. Your posts are always epic. 8D
Pffffff, Faith’s not the brightest crayon in the box, ‘eh? xD]

---------

- S A M U E L -

Samuel shrieked as Boomer bile and guts flew threw the air, soaking everything within a three metre radius in the horrible substance. He raised his arms to cover his face as the vomit rained down upon the Gunbat and the Newbie, dousing them in the vile bile (:’D).

“Faith, what was that for?” The blonde yelped, raising his pistols as the screaming and stamping of feet drew closer. “You KNOW you have to push that thing back before you shoot it!”

- D A M I E N -

Damien shot back, the bile narrowly missing his fleeting body. Quietcalling (and accidently failing at doing so, instead screaming loudly), the brunette lowered himself to the ground, cringing as the familiar scent of Christopher wafted to his nose.
Why did he have to land by him, of all people? The growing urge to gnaw at the elder's ankles was becoming harder to ignore.

“Let’s not argue about this now,” He began, twisting his head sharply as the sounds of the horde drew closer. “Instead, let’s work on clearing out the Infected!”

- S C O T T -

Scott couldn’t see anything, couldn’t smell anything, or even hear anything. Green slime clouded his vision, the putrid smell of guts and vomit swarmed his nose, and the screams surrounding him were dull and slurred. The Australian tried to wipe the bile from his body, groaning as it refused to release itself from his clothing and skin.

“Wh-What… what is this?” He asked quietly, voice shaky. “I can’t… I can’t see anything.”
He'd lost his home, his friends, and no doubt his family; and now he and his hair was covered in puke.
Wonderful.

---------

[Ooc: Lame post, sorry man. :'D
Scott likes his hair. <33]

[Poker Face]

Faith

Faith could barely see through the hearty layer of slime sliding down her skin, caught in her hair and splayed in her face, blinding her and replacing the world with a sickly green abyss.
She couldn't see anything, only hear the irritated voices of her teammates and the growling of Infected.
"It was a freaking Boomer! It deserved it for startling me like that!" She cried from under the sticky substance.

The bile felt disgusting, it smelled putrid, and it felt as if there were thousands of grotesque slugs worming over her, caught in her hair and sliding down her body.

Christopher

Christopher scowled, loading his Assault Rifle with an audible click.
It was possibly the single most stupid thing he'd ever seen the girl do, and, out of all people to make the mistake, he didn't expect the raging gunbat, who'd been in the team with Samuel since forever, to be the one who shot the Boomer.

"Faith, when this is over, remind me to shoot you." He called.
"I'd like to see you try, son of a bitch!" She yelled in defense.

John
John automatically assumed a defensive position by the two teen's sides, clenching his fist and readying his Hunting Rifle with swift precision.
"Stay calm, everybody." He reminded, looking through the scope for the Infected he knew were coming.

There was a fierce roar of Common Infected to be heard.
The rumbling of feet on the ground.
And then, the onslaught began.

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: Holy crap, lame post this time around. Sorry, dude. |D]

---------

- S A M U E L -

Samuel screamed as the horde rained down upon them in a flurry of screaming, pale limbs. It was a sea of moving flesh, filled with Australian face-paint, green and gold clothing, and more. Sweat hung in the air like a thick veil as the awkward Magician fired shot after shot into the Infected bodies throwing themselves at him, sending their corpses crashing to the ground.

Of course, he was not their primary target.

“Guys, protect Faith and Scott!” Samuel screeched, batting away an Infected with the butt of his gun.

- D A M I E N -

Damien was growling and snarling as he pinned down the Common Infected one-by-one, and ripped their innards out. Blood splattered all over the streets as the Hunter and Survivors worked together to clear out the bulk of the Infected. It was a gruesome sight to see, but, fortunately, the British Hunter couldn’t actually see.
Whoop de do.

It was hard to fight off those who had fallen to the Infection when they were pushing you out of the way, smashing other beings aside like a Tank as they raced towards their primary targets; the two Survivors covered in vomit. Damien could smell them from a mile away, and probably would be able to for the next few days.

- S C O T T -

Scott was panicking as he tried to peel the bile off of his body, or at least wipe it from his eyes. He could hear cursing coming from the intimidating girl behind him as she tried to take aim at the Infected with her shotgun. Dropping his own pistol, quite unsure of what to do, the Australian boy flattened himself to the brunette’s side, whimpering under his breath.

What he could see past the Boomer bile sliding down his face was worse than any nightmare he had ever experienced.

[Poker Face]

[It is not lame, and it never will be. >8D]

Faith

There was a thick line of heavy curses from the blinded brunette.
What felt like hundreds of Common Infected were pummeling away at every inch of her body with a merciless persistence, raining down on her like hail. She could only assume the very same was happening to Scott.

Faith desperately tried to push some of the mob out of the way, but with every Infected that fell back into the flurry, another five took it's place.


Christopher

Christopher decided on concentrating the most of his gunfire on the Infected around Scott, whom, being new to the whole Infection thing, would likely be under the most pressure. Faith could take care of herself, besides, she deserved everything that was coming at her.

His Assault Rifle rattled away in his hands, the alter ego clenching the cigarette tightly between his teeth. It was a nasty situation, one that was sure to have taken a bite out of everyone's feeling of self-security. Not that they had much to begin with, but, hell, this War against zombies was just kicking them while they were down.

"I call freaking Zombie-Bullshit!" He snarled.

John

John didn't even have the time to Scope in and take out from a distance. He just had to concentrate all his fire on everything that was happening right there and then, put all his firepower into the mass of lost souls that were beating the two Survivors down.

He felt no envy for the sludge-covered teens under the hefty weight of the Horde right then.

[You can end the Horde, if you'd like. :'D]

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: I would end it if I had any idea how to. |D]

---------

- S C O T T -

Scott was pushed roughly to the floor as the Infected bodies gathered around him and Faith, pushing and shoving their way past each other to take a whack at the two teenagers. The black-headed boy opened his mouth to scream, but all he got was a mouthful of vile tasting vomit.
Struggling against the horde around him, Scott tried to haul himself back to his feet, to run for his life, but the persistant attacks from the people around him kept him pinned.

“H-Help!”

- S A M U E L -

“Ah, Scott’s down!” Samuel cried, trying to take out as many of the Infected around the new boy as he could. It was difficult to aim, due to the Infected shoving him away, and the squirming Scott and Faith hidden somewhere in the thick of it all. The Magician didn’t want to accidently shoot them instead of the enemy.
The blonde considered casting a spell, but decided against it almost as soon as the thought floated into his head. Most of his spells took up a wide area of the field, and Scott and Faith were way too close for comfort. The only spell he was comfortable about casting was one of his worst, and instead of shooting ice shards like he should, he often created a small spray of cold water.

That wouldn’t help too much against an angry horde.

- D A M I E N -

Is beating up the Infected with his HUNTER POWERS.
He’s also getting beat up by the horde, too. :\

[Poker Face]

[Lolthispostsucks. I ended the Horde, buuuuut, it's not done very well. DX]

Faith

Faith groaned as the warmth of Scott's shoulders dropped to the ground beside her, clenching her teeth together as she heard the frantic cries of the team, joining in with her own irritated cry of distress.
Her vision was starting to clear. Barely. She could see the vaguest of shapes forming underneath the foul green horizon.

"Shit, shit, shit!"
There was a seemingly never-ending line of curses and swears from the blind brunette, the only pauses those to breathe.
"Freaking elephant-monkey-ass-shit!"

The Horde's rush was almost claustrophobic, and the world was spinning. Up was down and down was up, and there was no left or right, only more bodies, be they dead or alive.

Christopher

Christopher held his breath as he poured a flood of led into the angered Horde. It was slowly beginning to clear. Where there was previously only Infected, there was actual, visible earth.
Slowly, slowly, did the concentrated gunfire of the team begin to pick off the mass of Infected, in a flurry of blood that could either have been that of a Zombie, or either of the wailing teenagers struggling to stay alive.

John

The Soldier's fingers fixed to the trigger of his gun, John fired, fired for the life of what could be his last family. They'd come this far, and hell, he'd never let either of the teenagers fall to the battering of a persistent horde.

And then an amazing thing happened.
The last Zombie fell.
The Survivor could breath again. There was an audible rush of air from the Gunbat, the Alter Ego and the Soldier, as they all filled their lungs once more.
John, frankly, hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. But it was a common anxious habit.

"Oh, shit, man." He murmured.
Scott was on the ground, looking absolutely terrified.

John extended a hand to the teenager.
"Need a hand?"

[RabidSponge]

[Ooc: Pfffft, nonsense (Derp, I said nonsense); you did swimmingly. XD I would have ended it something like: “And then they all fell dead. THE HORDE WAS GONE, YAY HOORAY.” xD]

---------

- S A M U E L -

Samuel released the tension in his shoulders, and allowed his arms to flop tiredly to his sides.
“We did it,” He breathed incredously, hazel eyes wide as the joy of their victory began to sink in. “We did it! We survived!” The young blonde was overjoyed, especially that he didn’t have to see corpses where Scott and Faith now stood.

“That was a really nasty horde, ‘eh?” Samuel questioned, trotting up to the other Survivors cheerily. “Haven’t seen one like that since that one time Faith and I were trying to get out of that airport.”

- D A M I E N -

Damien grinned and crawled towards the team, bloodsoaked and beaten more so than many of the others, considering he had been in the thick of the battle, dealing out damage with his claws. However, he didn’t look nearly as bad as Faith and Scott, the latter of who was shaking like a leaf.

“I’m rather surprised about the size of this horde,” The hooded boy chimed in, wiping the blood from the cracked lenses of his glasses with a frown. “I suppose it may be because there was a large number of people in the city at the time of the Infected.”

Thank you captain obvious. No-one likes a smart-ass.

- S C O T T -

Scott swallowed thickly and reached out his hand, taking a weak hold of the older man’s. He wobbled dangerously after allowing himself to be pulled to his feet, but recovered after a few moments of using John’s shoulder as a stabiliser. With wide, dark eyes, he looked around, the sight of the fallen Australians lying dead on the floor, drowning in their own blood making him double over from the nausea.

“May God have mercy on their souls,” He whispered, brushing his hair from his face and locking his sights on the pistol lying abandonded on the ground. With a shaky hand, the black-haired teenager bent down and picked it up, rolling it around in his hands…

…and almost blowing his head clean off when his finger accidently hit the trigger.

[Poker Face]

Faith
An exasperated hiss flew from the girl's pale lips, as Faith lowered her Shotgun to her waist, feeling the stress temporarily rush from every muscle in her body.
The final relief when a Horde dies down was possibly one of her favourite sensations in the whole world, second only to the explosive power of her Shotgun.

"Don't remind me." She muttered bitterly, inspecting the numerous cuts and bruises she now sported.
"Freaking catastrophe..."

The quiet blonde was right, the Horde had been a particularly sour one. What a shame that it would have been one of Scott's first. The first few were always the most terrifying, the ones that stuck with you forever. It was hardly fair that such an onslaught had marked the beginning of the Teen's Zombie crusade.



Christopher
Christopher almost swallowed his Cigarette when a stray bullet was fired from a shaky teenager's hand.
"Freaking kids."
Of all the Teenagers in the world, he suspected he was stuck with the worst. He thought he had it bad earlier, but the last thing he needed was another terrified pair of eyes, and another shaking aim.

What are you thinking? His mind asked.
I'm thinking Survival. He answered to himself.

Every time his better self wormed his way into the Alter Ego's mind, a pang of guilt sent shivers running through his mind and sliding down his spine, sent a cold feeling to his ever-aching lungs.
Christopher decided he'd put up with the teen, for now.

But he convinced himself that it was for his protection.
And not because the horrified expression on the boy reminded him so much of the little brother he'd left hidden away from the unsafety of the real world.


John
John froze for the barest second, his War-sawed nerves biting at his mind, which constantly ticked at a million miles an hour, set abruptly on edge by a stray bullet fired from Scott.
"Careful, son." He warned warmly, "You'll hurt yourself."

Poor Scott. The Sniper could only imagine what the world was doing to the lost boy. It was hardly fair, the teen had been thrown into a crazy, shoot-or-die world swarming with death and stray emotion.

He knew that feeling.
And, hell, he was determined to get the boy through it in one piece.

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