Ｔｈｅ ＤＩＶＩＳＩＯＮ｡ I C { open / full }

[jrugs]

Sam helped the woman put pressure onto her thigh so she wouldn't bleed to death. That would be a way to die. She still had a s**t load of things to do before she left this world. And dying by a gunshot wound to her thigh wasn't how she planned on going. She groaned in pain as the shards in her leg cut away at her flesh. There was no way she was going to go through this with little to no pain. Glancing to the side, Sam watched as the man rummaged through his dufflebag. All of its contents fell to the floor before he mentioned something with morphine. "Well well, Mary Poppins. If there's anything in that bag of yours that can help, I'll take it if little Summer here says it's okay." She said, giving Summer a look of question. She was the expert in medicines here so she wasn't takin anything without her consent.

As the two talked about the medicine, Sam heard small whimpers and glanced to the front of the vehicle where a young man was curled up, face buried into the leather seat. He looked to be only a kid with that slim figure of his. "Hey. You alright? What's your name?" She asked, trying to keep the situation as calm as possible.



✖░ ｌ ｏ ｃ ａ ｔ ｉ ｏ ｎ; parking lot✖░ ｍ ｏ ｏ ｄ; trying to hold it together ✖░ ｏ ｕ ｔ ｆ ｉ ｔ; ✖ ✖ ✖



ｈｅａｌｔｈ
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

xxxxxxxxxx67%
xxxxxxxxxxbullet wound to her thigh
xxxxxxxxxxbleeding, in pain, cold.

ｉｎｖｅｎｔｏｒｙ
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

xxxxxxxxxxstandard medium-sized backpack
xxxxxxxxxxlarge bottle of fresh water
xxxxxxxxxxplain black wallet with ID and an old family photo
xxxxxxxxxxan extra sweater and t-shirt
xxxxxxxxxxassorted canned food [x10]
xxxxxxxxxxnew york tour guide
xxxxxxxxxxgeneral area maps
xxxxxxxxxxpliers, duct tape and scissors
xxxxxxxxxxlock picking tools
xxxxxxxxxxbandages and med supplies

ｗｅａｐｏｎｓ
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

xxxxxxxxxxassault rifle AK-47 [x2 clips]
xxxxxxxxxxpistol [20 rounds]
xxxxxxxxxxstandard kitchen knife
xxxxxxxxxxpocket knife








0ut of Character

[One Asterisk]

▶ ▷ ▸ ▹ John Long ◀ ◁ ◂ ◃

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John nodded.

"I understand" Heather poked her head out when she saw the doll. She was hesitant, her mouth open as she saw the doll. She looked at John as if for approval and John merely smiled and gestured for her to take it, mouthing 'if you want'. She closed the gap between them slowly, her hands reaching for the doll before her fingers wrapped around the waist of the doll; holding it close to her face before letting out a soft squeal.

"And what do we say to the nice man?" John whispered. Heather looked up at Stray Dog, her face seen reflected through her point of view before she said thank you.

"Sergeant, we need to go" Johnson said. John nodded, offering his hand to Heather in which she took.

"It's been nice knowing you, Stray Dog" John said before saluting casually. He walked over to the side of the truck to place Heather in the passenger seat with Johnston before the driver started up the truck with everyone from the group on it.

"Stay safe, you hear?" John said as he was pulled up to the back of the truck, crouching to close the back before helping pull the tarp on top of the truck to form a canopy over the goods and those sitting in the back. John tapped the side of the truck, signalling the truck to drive out of the loading bay before quickly accelerating and disappearing down the road.

BLStoner

Location: on the move
Out Of Cookies:

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[ZenFehr]

◣ Hadley ◥


『
Hadley didn't hear much of an answer, but what she saw was enough. Sam was injured, and bleeding profusely, which meant they couldn't waste any time in getting them back to base. As she addressed the guy up front, Hadley looked down, seeming to notice him for the first time. She shot a glance at Damien in the passenger seat just beside him, and briefly wondered what horrors of human behavior he'd confronted to get like this. Then again, being shot at wasn't precisely a small thing.

"Hey, we're in the clear, man. You're gonna be fine."

She sounded a bit more confident than she was, but this was owing to dull, stoic speech patterns. No cheer, no bravado. Just certainty. She got the car moving again down the dead streets, fighting the urge to let the engine roar in a full on sprint for safety.

"Let's just hope the other two had better luck than we did."

Hadley took an indirect look back. She kept her eyes sharp for any movement, any remote possibility that they were being followed, but nothing came. Soon after she'd stopped to check on everyone, the Hummer was pulling into the garage. She parked it precisely where it had been and got out, tapping her toes against the ground. She opened the back door behind hers; the delivery guy was gathering up the last of the cans that had spilled out of his bag. The dog almost toppled out, sniffing around with its ears up.

Rizzo had come over, sensing a bit of commotion, or at least the fact that there were more people with them than when they had left.

"You guys have anything to claim?" He raised his brows at the dog as Hadley handed him the keys.
"Just a coupla strays. We'll get them situated, but Sam has to see the docs before anything else."



』

[Penna Evolo]

location: Back home|| wearing: that coat mom got me last christmas

Summer

so you're tired but you're alive
so open up your eyes
and you can get your sleep when you are dead
______________________

"Morphine, yes," Summer was barely paying attention as the delivery guy spoke. Her eyes darted across the passing streets, calculating how much farther the base was; her mind was ahead of her, planning, prepping, thinking of everything that could go wrong. Thinking on the severity of the wound that bled underneath her palm. Morphine would be good, but Sam would be out - though if the man had some in his bag of tricks, then maybe he had more, and maybe when she used what little supplies they had on keeping Sam alive, he'd be able to help replenish them.

Sam was right about one thing - if it had been an artery, she'd already be dead. She kept these thoughts to herself since just not being dead yet would be no guarantee that she would continue to not be dead. Her free hand was digging into her bag already, trying to reason how long it would be before they got to base. She pulled out a short, small syringe and - after pushing Sam's hands over the bleeding - removed her hand for a moment to flick the vial. Replacing her hand over Sam's wound, she pulled the cap off with her teeth and plunged the epinephrine into her arm. Hypovolemic shock averted, she tossed the empty syringe into her bag and -

and they weren't moving anymore.

"Help me, hold up her legs. We have to move her." Summer commanded to the delivery man, then tilted her head to look out the window. Men and women who worked the garage milled about; Division agents were looking at them curiously, cautiously.

"I need a stretcher, and anyone with medical experience!" She shouted out, grabbing the strap of her bag with her free hand and moving to a position to help carry Sam. Her eyes rested on the delivery man once more and she nodded to him.

"Hold onto the pills, I have-" Finding purchase, she pulled a second syringe from her bag - this one was marked with a strip of red marker. "When the stretcher comes lay her out and keep her legs up. She was going to need more hands than she had, but they would have to make do - like they always did, with everything else. Summer finally smiled down to Sam, heedless of the blood that had, at some point, smeared along her cheek and stuck a few strands of blonde to her skin.

"Everything is going to be fine."


______________________

when the times keep going wrong
and we go right

[One Asterisk]

▶ ▷ ▸ ▹ John Long ◀ ◁ ◂ ◃

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John and his crew eventually arrived at the Division Base, which the truck was parked close and concealed far away from the base as they traveled the rest of the way through a vehicle on rails. From a secure checkpoint underground, Division agents began helping unload supplies from the back of the train car and quickly into the main hall to be organized by those inside. The Quartermaster arrived with a few civilian assistants. He was Army too, a once chubby man from lack of PT and most likely was going to fail his tests before the epidemic happened. John beat him into shape, and now he was focused on his duties then before.

"I need everything except for meds to sick bay. Better get moving" John ordered before helping Heather off the seat. Heather looked in one direction before crying out someone's name, running to a person which he assumed was the father. John smiled as he zipped up his jacket and checked each of the sentry points of the Division Base, usually obscure concrete lookouts fortified by sandbags and wood palettes. He arrived at the last one, overlooking Grand Central Station and the rest of the streets: empty, burned out wreckage from accidents in the early stages of the epidemic, and broken glass on the sidewalks from looted stores. John crawled up to where two others were watching from above, one that had binoculars and the other had a M24 in his hands. Beside them was provisions, ammunition and a SAW.

"Everything good here?" John asked as he crouched behind them.

"Scattered gunshots in the northwest, but aside from that, it's been clear" one said. John nodded before leaving them some caffeinated drinks. He was in the main hall, wondering where was the team that headed out. The radio on his plate carrier was soft but no significant orders were said.

Location: Division Base
Out Of Cookies:

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[WaterproofFade-Proof]

Devon Ridley
______________________________

A voice from the back seat caught his attention making him slowly lift his head to look at the person speaking. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. The girl speaking with him was the one who had been shot. How could she possibly seem this calm? He shook his head still unable to find his voice. He certainly did not feel like he was okay. He no longer felt like he was going to drop dead from a heart attack, but his starved body was still reeling from the fear that had made him a blubbering mess.

He took a deep breath his tired brown eyes meeting hers. "it's Devon." The driver's reassurances seemed to help slightly. At the very least he had stopped sobbing. "Right..." He wanted to go home, but that wasn't an option right now. Wiping his eyes again he pulled his blanket tighter to his body. He remained tense and braced against the central consul for the entire drive home only looking up to make sure that the injured girl was still okay.

When they finally came to a stop in the the garage Devon willed himself to move to a standing position just outside the passenger door. There was an awkward feeling of being an inconvenience and a social annoyance so he didn't speak up about how hungry he was or get in the way of Sam seeking medical attention.

[jrugs]

It was by the time that they all pulled into a hidden compartment in the library building - that they had create into a garage - that Sam began to feel the blood loss and she became dazed. It was a struggle trying to keep her vision clear and whatever Summer had injected her with.. it was starting to wear off. Sam watched as those around her rushed to get her into a room where they could operate on her leg to get the shards out. Turning to look at the two strange men that they had brought along with them, she gave them a look of concern before squinting her eyes at them. "You two better cooperate or I'll have both of your heads on a silver plate!" She called out to the marine brothers. They gave a small nod before she was slung onto a stretch and wheeled away.

Sam looked up at Summer who was smiling down at her. "You better take care of me, okay? I ain't gonna go and die today." She said in a soft, calm voice. Letting her eyes close, Sam continued: "There's too much I live for to just stop here." Off in the distance she could hear a child's laughter. It bought a sense of peace to the woman, reminding her of her own daughter.



✖░ ｌ ｏ ｃ ａ ｔ ｉ ｏ ｎ; division base✖░ ｍ ｏ ｏ ｄ; tired, numb ✖░ ｏ ｕ ｔ ｆ ｉ ｔ; ✖ ✖ ✖



ｈｅａｌｔｈ
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

xxxxxxxxxx67%
xxxxxxxxxxbullet wound to her right thigh
xxxxxxxxxxbleeding, in pain, cold.

ｉｎｖｅｎｔｏｒｙ
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

xxxxxxxxxxstandard medium-sized backpack
xxxxxxxxxxlarge bottle of fresh water
xxxxxxxxxxplain black wallet with ID and an old family photo
xxxxxxxxxxan extra sweater and t-shirt
xxxxxxxxxxassorted canned food [x10]
xxxxxxxxxxnew york tour guide
xxxxxxxxxxgeneral area maps
xxxxxxxxxxpliers, duct tape and scissors
xxxxxxxxxxlock picking tools
xxxxxxxxxxbandages and med supplies

ｗｅａｐｏｎｓ
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

xxxxxxxxxxassault rifle AK-47 [x2 clips]
xxxxxxxxxxpistol [20 rounds]
xxxxxxxxxxstandard kitchen knife
xxxxxxxxxxpocket knife








0ut of Character

after a few more posts we can do the time skip to tomorrow afternoon? btw this post is kinda blah. can't write while i'm stressed. u - u

[ZenFehr]

Anders

"Aw, shoot. Right." Anders stopped fussing over his duffel bag when Summer requested his help. He lifted the injured woman's legs, and a few moments later there were boots squeaking and scuffing against the pavement outside of the vehicle. A couple of men had arrived with a stretcher, and he helped get Sam situated with them, following along as they began to hurry her off to whatever they'd designated as a medical area.

"Who's this?" One of the guys looked over his shoulder at Anders, frowning slightly.
"New guy." Another man had stepped in, urging Anders away from the stretcher. He complied, standing helplessly on the spot as Sam was carried away. "You don't get any further than this garage until you're searched and listed, sorry. Go see to it, pal."

" 'Course." Anders adjusted his hat, and nearly tripped over the dog at his heels when he turned to get back to Devon. This was beginning to happen too frequently. He was muttering under his breath by the time he got to the Hummer, and he moved toward Damien, looking over his shoulder at the receding stretcher. "So. Who conducts this uh, processin' and security and whatnot? What'sit like? Cause I'mma be honest with you, if a cavity search is part a' the protocol I'll just take my chances in the cold, brother."

[One Asterisk]

▶ ▷ ▸ ▹ John Long ◀ ◁ ◂ ◃

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John was at the reception desk, going over the travels he did while getting to the division base. A division agent wandered in and asked for John.

"Sergeant?" she asked. John and several others looked up from their work at her.

"The team came in. One casualty but the rest seem fine. Agent Lavoie is being prepped for surgery" she explained. John murmured something to others before another person came inside.

"We have some new survivors but we're going with our normal security procedures" the other said. There was a handler outside with a dog as well as a fireteam.

"Let's get to work then" John said as he took his rifle off the table. He arrived to where the majority of the survivors were, the garage where the gate was down and guarded by four agents. Two lifted the gate up which John faced the group of survivors.

"Welcome to our base, fellow citizens" John said.

"Before we put people through protocols, is there anyone in need of immediate medical attention? All domesticated animals are needed to be separated, weapons are to be handed to the nearest Division agent or soldier, and every person will have to be searched thoroughly. As we are enforcing the powers of the American government, any failure to comply will be escorted out the door" he explained.

ZenFehr

Location: Division Base
Out Of Cookies:

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[WaterproofFade-Proof]

Devon Ridley
______________________________

Devon offered his new 'friend' a nervous smile before leaning against the hummer for support. Now that his adrenaline had lowered he was more exhausted and hungry than he had been before. In fact he was starting to get dizzy from being on his feet. He just wanted to sit someplace quiet and enjoy a small can of food, but apparently this organization he had literally been dragged into the company of had some sort of complicated intake procedure.

They bony young adult turned to give the sergeant a tired dead eyed stare as he addressed them both. After shutting himself in and left unchecked for several years he didn't feel like much of a citizen of anything especially one that was overly patriotic.

One look at the gun in the man's hand and the menacing looking dog at his side and he was willing to walk back out into the cold. It wouldn't take much for him to freeze to death with the current weather. One would hope that at the very least Anders would at the very least make a note of that.

"They're my things, Why can't I keep them? Does it look like I'd hurt someone? Where did you say this fire of yours is mister? " He mumbled his eyes dropping to the ground. "I don't want them touching me, I don't want to give them my grandpa's multi-tool, I don't know them I don't trust them." He whispered to the older male while clutching his blanket closer to his body. It felt like a hundred eyes were staring at him. It had been so long since he had been in a vaguely social situation. Aside from the ride in the hummer of course. There were too many people and they were all going to judge him.

[ZenFehr]

Anders

His poor sense of humor hadn't earned him any applause. In fact, it seemed Damien scarcely had any time to answer him before someone came in and started explaining the security process. It sounded alright, up until Devon started babbling. Anders sighed and turned to him, mumbling under his breath.

"They're not gonna take your stuff, they just wanna check it all out. Might want your knife, but I don't think they're gonna go fishin' anywhere they shouldn't. These guys have a lotta people comin' through and they gotta make sure nobody's gonna slip in and crash their little pillow-fort, right? Look, I'll go first, how 'bout that?"

Before Devon could answer. Anders was moving forward, snapping his fingers. The dog came to follow right at his heels, and stopped when he did, in front of John. With a little motion of his hand, the dog sat, and he shrugged off his duffel bag once again.

"The kid's just a little skittish, see? He was stuck at home when I found him and I don't think he's had anything to eat this side a' November, so he's in pretty bad shape. Just take it easy on him, he don't like strangers and y'all are a pretty spooky lookin' bunch."

While he spoke, Anders unclipped the tool belt on his waist and lowered it to the floor. His respirator clacked, and a loaded caulking gun rolled out.

"I don't have any weapons on me 'less you count that crowbar and the mace." Both things were in his tool belt, along with a hammer, gloves, duct tape, and wire cutters; some things that might be harmful, but all had a practical purpose. Anders opened up his jacket as well. The inside pockets contained surgical gloves, a little notepad, a loop of thin cable, and a squirt gun.

[One Asterisk]

▶ ▷ ▸ ▹ John Long ◀ ◁ ◂ ◃

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John stared at Devon with a droll look before turning his attention at Anders. John murmured something to a soldier before a few went past Anders to Devon. One of them was a woman in her 40s , dressed in fatigues but had a kind face.

"Hello sweetie. These men are going take your things to make you feel comfortable until you're more well, okay? It's cold out here so let's get you to a bed, some medicine and a big bowl of soup. Does that sound good to you?" While the kind lady was speaking to Devon, some men confiscated Anders' things and brought them to a table where two men stood guard behind before giving back Anders everything back. He seemed... Okay for now.

"For those in need of medical attention and assistance like the 'child' behind Anders, please follow the kind woman after leaving firearms, explosives, bladed objects and drug paraphernalia at the table adjacent from me" he added.

"As for you, I will need to ask you questions about your past life before the epidemic" he said to Anders. The dog and his handler was around Anders, the dog sniffing Anders after sniffing his things.

ZenFehr

Location: Division Base
Out Of Cookies:

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[ZenFehr]

Anders

"Mm? Oh, oh that, right."

Anders rubbed the back of his neck and held his other hand out for the dog to sniff. The animal had yet to sit or give any other indication it had been trained to give upon recognition of the scent it was looking for, but it did seem very perplexed.

"Coupla years on a garbage truck, little bit a' work as a janitor, sewage treatment, that was good fun. Uhh what else, help me out here Mickey."

He looked at the dog that had come in with him. Mickey cocked his head.

"Yeah, that too. Unmarried and no kids, God Bless. Now I'm workin' delivery."

Anders pointed at his hat and grinned proudly.

[One Asterisk]

TIME SKIP

The storm began to go through the city, causing anything with weak heat sources to go out quickly and anyone unlucky likely to die of hypothermia without proper clothing. The Dominion Base's entrances closed under lock and key, the inhabitants were well comforted by the basic necessities: a warm bed, clothes, food and water. The winds were strong enough to batter the gates and windows required to be held by a piece of wood between the handles. It is currently around noon.

[One Asterisk]

▶ ▷ ▸ ▹ John Long ◀ ◁ ◂ ◃

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John was at the reception desk with his fellow Agents. A map was placed on the desk,
with rounds outlying certain areas in their upright positions. He was going to give his report to Agent Lavoie about his travels before he came to the Division Base but at that time, she required bed rest and he wanted to tell her when she was able. He made a note to talk to Miss Nixon about something and also to Mr. Slattery. At the moment, those around weren't doing much except cleaning their weapons.

"Do you remember when they had pound cake in the MREs?" a Agent asked as he slurped a few noodles from his Insta Ramen cup. His friend beside him shrugged as he was cleaning his M4A1 on the desk, a soft hiss as a bottle of CLP released it's liquid onto metal before being wiped down with a rag.

"That was during the Gulf War, wasn't it? Or earlier..." someone else murmured. John finished assembling his rifle, pulling back the charging handle before checking that the trigger pull was right. The sound of it echoed through the hallways before eventually fading. John stood up before putting on his jacket.

"You guys hold down the fort, I need to talk to some people" he said before heading out of the reception desk to the main hall. He often heard his name called or the affectionate term, Sarge which he came over to the person in need of his assistance. Eventually, he sat down on a chair across from a fire pit.

ZenFehr

Location: Division Base
Out Of Cookies: Edited.

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