strangelic: (Resistance)
Castiel; The Fallen ([personal profile] strangelic) wrote in [community profile] oasislogs2016-03-20 10:00 pm

This is a curse that can't be stopped

WHO: OPEN MINGLE
WHERE: The Warehouse, The City, The Forest
WHEN: However long the rain falls and the siege lasts.
WARNINGS: Undead, violence, gore, murder. Note in comments anything else and I'll add.
SUMMARY: With sloppy zombies and cannibals running the show out in the city, everyone is feeling a little cooped up back at the warehouse. But as much rainwater as they have to drink, people still need to eat

The Warehouse

After a day or two, the perimeter had been secured far enough back to light a fire out of sight of the top windows of the warehouse, so that everyone could keep warm, even when the rain was pouring outside. There was plenty of water, consequently, to drink, but food and dry firewood was limited, both difficult to get back to the warehouse without coming upon one predator or another outside. The longer the siege went on - and that was exactly what it was - and the longer the rain poured, the more miserable their confinement was. Food came in the form of meat, mostly, and the occasional tropical fruit found on the forest floor, with no way to go out into the forest to scavenge for berries or nuts. Even hunting was risky, with the forest alive the way it was. At night, when the fire was lit, it was the only place to get warm. There were blankets, enough barely not to have to share, and conversation murmured around the fire from those who stayed close to it, even if some of those trapped there were more inclined to mope in their own silence. Visitors, of course, were more than welcome--unless they were the maneating kind, and perhaps one night, with a crash, some uninvited guests might slip through the cracks, and come upon the survivors in their sleep.

The City

It was enough to try and survive. Closing up the sewer entrances was crucial, of course, in order to keep those things still down there confined, but driving back the intruders was work that needed organizing, needed strong hands together, and no small effort. Trips out into the city were more dangerous that trips into the forest, but they were essential too, to reconnaissance how to take back the city - if at all - and then to go out and do it. Bringing together a team to do so meant organizing them, in the warehouse, around the campfire. Then it would be time to press out into the city itself. Who is this brave leader? Who fights beside them? Or shall we hide away until we starve? Perhaps, though, someone just needs rescuing, someone who's hid away elsewhere in the city, or just arrived, and needs a little help getting somewhere safe. Maybe their run just went a little bit...wrong.

The Forest

Food was essential to survival, and wood, too, was running low. Of course all the trees in the forest were just as damp, not to mention enormous burdens to sneak back in past the city walls to the warehouse. Trips out into the trees were risky, but they had to be made by the ambitious and the strong, or the brave and the foolish. The rain still poured down, of course, obliterating tracks, making it hard to move, or to pick out landmarks, the luscious undergrowth dulled to a thick, monotonous gray-green, soaking anyone not already wet through the moment they brushed against it. The animals cowered too, the rainfall making it impossible to hear when predators were creeping up on them, and the same applied to the zombies, stirred to life by all the commotion, hunting the hunters. Perhaps it's just a case of one wanderer coming upon another, unplanned, or is there purpose in this woodland meeting?
dirtyredneck: (Action Moving (4))

[personal profile] dirtyredneck 2016-03-31 12:37 am (UTC)(link)
He was this close to saying what she'd been through wasn't anywhere near what he'd been through. But war was hell, wherever it happened. And shit, she'd had her whole planet blown up in front of her? How many millions of people had that been? How many had she known? Thinking about that made it hard to argue with her or maintain his outburst of anger. Which, as frustrating as it was, didn't actually help him.

Daryl started pacing half-way through her impassioned rebuttal so she couldn't get in his space so easily. It allowed him to act like he wasn't backing up because she was overstepping the invisible boundaries he'd been loosely adhering to. Like it didn't spook him a little (it did, it always did and he hated it). A good lip curl was given at the end of her little speech just make it look like he didn't really care what she had to say.

At the end of it all, though, he broke off and walked away, throwing a mean, "Whatever!" over his hunched shoulders.

If he found his way to a bed within that same hour it was because he wanted some shut eye, not because of anything she'd said.