Bing was bored. They'd been sitting here, on what felt like a piece of busted concrete, for nearly an hour now. At least the war-zone they'd been through had been something to do.
Not to mention he'd been able to see at the beginning of it.
His first thoughts had been to scan the crowds of the other factions and see if there was anyone he recognized. He hadn't spotted anyone familiar before the first shots broke out. And then the damn Yahoo Harbingers started lobbing grenades into the middle of the crowd. It was an entire trucks worth of s**t hitting an industrial strength fan.
The first thing Bing had done was grab Benji, and shove the kids' head down. Bing's ears were ringing, and people were falling around them. This was definitely a lot messier that anything Bing had dealt with in the mob, and he doubted Benji, as jumpy as the kid was, would be handling this well. Bing needed to get him to the wall now, and out of the line of fire. He'd been pulling on Benji's arm, trying to yell loud enough to be heard over the noise when something hit him.
The funny thing about blows that leave you blind is that you never see what hit you.
Rock, graze from a bullet, whatever it had been, the light disappeared from the world. At first, Bing thought someone had blocked the light somehow. But when he looked toward the sound of gunfire, he realized he didn't see any flashes from the barrels. He didn't see anything.
Well... s**t...
His job had just gotten a helluva lot harder.
He'd managed to come to terms with it since the cease fire. He could still hear. Sort of. Through the ringing. And feel. He'd make do for now. Wait for his sight to recover. It would help if he could persuade someone to act as his eyes for the time being. Maybe Benji?
OOC
Character's name: Bing Bonhomme Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER A great hulk of a man. Strong, but with little muscle definition. Slick-backed blonde hair, pale blue eyes. Waist-Up
a pet dino
Would it be okay if I had Bing use Benji as his eyes? Provided Benji doesn't also roll a 10?
Elliot wasn't sure why he'd come - sure a weapon to help them fight the infected would be handy but if this was supposed to be over in seven days why were they risking it? Why not just bunker down and wait for the end? Still, mob mentality was strong and when he saw everyone leaving - rushing towards hope, he wasn't immune to the pull. If the young and old were brave, why couldn't he at least pretend?
But when the chaos broke out - he didn't know how to pretend to be brave anymore. Bullets, blood, explosions. The ringing in his ears surrounding him - as if his fear - no, his terror - was screaming at him. The ringing cleared and he realised it wasn't his fear - it was a voice. Somehow, in all the chaos, he had fallen. He tried to push himself up, but putting weight on his right arm had him screaming out in pain and falling forward again. Someone grabbed it and pulled and he was on his feet - he could already feel the swelling pushing against his shirt. His arm hung limp. He stumbled to hide behind a wall where he fell, cradling his arm.
If it wasn't for the others around him mentioning it, he wouldn't have even noticed the cease fire - nor the whistle and the white flag. When the leaders returned, Elliot listened intently - maybe they would return back to the mall district and he could crawl to Ecco and sleep. He would sleep for seven days. But they were all going to pitch in to try and get the weapon and Elliot didn't have it in him to say no. So he pushed himself up, cautious of his shoulder and soldiered on.
OOC
Character's name: Elliot Orford Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:[_] Character's survival stats: [_] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Elliot is tall (6'0") with a slim, athletic but doesn't need to work out cause he's that kind of a*****e build. His hair is light brown and is long enough to tie back and he wears it in a man bun (no ragrets). Often seen with a dopey grin.
exclaimI have completed a mission! REMEMBER TO POST A SEPARATE POST PER MISSION COMPLETED
My faction: Mall My minis account name: ChloeisFox My CHARACTER ID:Here Mission number completed WITH LINK AS PROOF:5 Character name: Abagail IF YOU HAVE ANY MINIS ON SITE PRIZES TO REDEEM GO HERE
kuropeco rolled 1 10-sided dice:
3Total: 3 (1-10)
Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2015 9:28 pm
October was, for lack of a better word, unhappy.
For one thing, his late afternoon nap had been interrupted from all the chaos. And for another, he'd been considering moving his evening nap up a little so that it would coincide better with his midnight nap and snack combo, and this meant that now his schedule was entirely wonky. He'd have to rework it, eventually, when he was not attempting to run around like a maniac, trying not to die, because dying was definitely not on October's schedule. Maybe when he was sixty, like Mr. Nordskov, he'd feel it could be worked in properly (after a lot of consideration), but at mid-twenties, October felt that dying was highly overrated.
And inconvenient.
The blast knocked him off his feet, and not in the good time-to-sleep sort of way. October dragged himself vertical after it, wincing profusely, a gloved hand clapped to his ear as he staggered forward several steps. There was a persistent and awfully frustrating ringing happening inside of his head, the world around him muffled and watery sounding, and he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was actually still asleep for once - that this was all a dream he was going to eventually wake up from.
He sort of heard Alex's voice. Sort of. He heard at least some semblance of Alex's voice through the haze and the water, and October stumbled in that direction, clutching his umbrella. His fingers dug at his ears, trying to see if maybe the numb fluff was just due to an extensive amount of debris dust in his head, but no amount of pulling or tugging or digging seemed to have any effect whatsoever. And the numbness was giving way to a strange sort of throbbing pain.
He finally saw Alex, just up ahead, and tripped towards him.
"Are you okay?" October half shouted, much louder than necessary, but his voice sounded so thin to his own self.
Rorrow did not like this. He really and honestly didn't. Corey had come out here, she was their Student Body President...Rorrow was the former Student Council Secretary. They might be disbanded but he still had his loyalty and pride to uphold. Corey was...a friend. Well...close enough at least. He thought to himself as they all gathered. As tension rose, the youth felt his nerves get set on edge. When all hell broke loose Rorrow was ready to die. Somewhere in the crossfire Rorrow got his left leg grazed by a bullet. Well...more like it went clean through. The pain was off the charts, he never experienced this before. Collapsing to the ground he was relieved when they were told of the Truce. About freaking time...he grunted as he staggered over to a small pile of rubble.
He opened his messenger bag, pulling out strips of a ratty shirt he found in his dorm room a while back. It wasn't really useful so...he tied them around his wound. Then standing winced, no pain killers meant he would have to suck it up and walk. His life. Was not a dream right now. He limped towards the small group...maybe he would see his twin around?
Hopefully not as a Undying...
OOC
Character's name: Rorrow Graves Character's faction: Univeristy Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: Rorrow Graves #26 View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER 6', Slender Build/Bookworm, Really good at kicking if need be. Long chesnut hair, kept in twin tails at most times. Green eyes, glasses as he has a slight depth issue. Always has a messenger bag with him.
Zone 1- 2. Injury to leg. Up to you if bullet wound or blunt damage. Light hairpin fracture. Cannot run/ must walk slowly/ must use either a crutch or assistance from another player.
Entering; Injury is Severe Head Trauma...sweatdrop
The order to mobilize for a 'secret weapon' that can decimate the Undying has came.
Why now? It's only 6 days until the time mentioned by the baseless rumor, Saul thought to himself. Still, he did understand the underlying cause of the order.
Unease.
Since the bandits' attack on the Mall, there's already voices raised, suggesting that they should band together with the other Factions, and raid the hideout to procure more weapons. It was met by, quite surprising to him, acceptance from the most of the Rats.
They DO said continuing to live in severe stress will do something unspeakable to your sanity, but this is too much; did they forget the risks?
-not to mention, the bandits, even if they did started it, was at the end, another human being which did it for survival. He remembered the speech made by Alan again: "A human will not be evil unless the situation is desperate."
And thus he decided. Your lives or mine; which worth more?
There's no need to answer that. He's going to live-for completing the 'Salvation'.
-but the reality of the world was not in his hand to write nor narrate. The battlefield was chaotic, and they're being pushed back by heavy weaponry. At first he managed to get a solid cover, using an upturned safety car usually used to transport money and other things, but once the grenade was thrown Lady Luck left his side.
He didn't remember anything save than experiencing a heavy blow on his head, and when he came to he awoken with a bad...
...wait. It's all blurry...?
"You'd better lie down for the moment." Said an unfamiliar voice from beside him. Squinting, he can manage to see a woman's face. "You have been hit quite hard on the head by a loose concrete piece. As a result, you has bled quite profusely and received concussion on frontal lobe. We've stitched you up, but due to the damage to your brain, hopefully temporarily, you'll get some unpleasant after-effects, such as loss of vision, severe nausea, or even..."
"-death?"
"-as you're now quite chipper right now, I'd say you'll not die in a nearby time, gramps." Said the woman again, leaving him for tending the next patient.
Saul weakly brought his hand to touch a gauze plastered on his temples. Since it didn't felt real enough to him, he rubbed the squarish piece of gauze and felt some hard objects inside...wait, don't tell me they stapled my wounds!?
As soon as he recovered enough to walk, he looked around---where's the leader?
As soon as he wanted to ask around, the leaders of the four factions came out from a room. They told us that they'll compromise each others, including the Harbingers due to sudden ambush from the Undying. They seems to be implying the 'enemy of your enemy is a temporary ally', and will help the Four Factions as long as our people helps them.
He couldn't think anything else but seeing this as a huge set-up. However, the majority of the masses' sense of competition has been already lit. There's no helping it, against the atmosphere which has been ablaze.
A four-way competition of whose can get the Harbinger's support. It has now begun.
OOC
Character's name: Saul Goodman Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link: Journal Character's survival stats: OK BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER S'all good, man!
Rathurue
Alien Abductee
Offline
Xaki rolled 1 10-sided dice:
6Total: 6 (1-10)
Xaki
Offline
Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2015 9:38 pm
Sho had gone on the mission because his fellow friends had gone. He couldn't, without a guilty conscience, let them go without being there.
There was a hostile group, but they were an effective group. Sho watched the snipers warily- before all hell broke loose. The explosion, the keening wail that brought a shiver down his spine. Everything went all black... and then Sho finally managed to open his eyes. It took a few moments to reorient himself to his surroundings -- dust, pained cries, debris.What was even more disturbing was the deathly silence. The grenade... had.... done what? A searing pain surged through him when he tried to move, all emanating from his left shoulder. At least it wasn't his right, dominant hand that was affected. But how much had been injured, how much of their people had been killed?
"Ahaha...." He laughed to himself, unable to believe his circumstances. Though his injuries could be worse. Though the pain was welcome in its own way- reminding Sho of how dire their circumstances were. He pushed himself up with his other hand, experimentally trying to move his left hand. No, it was useless- the other hand and his whole arm remaining still. It was dead weight. He could do nothing but hold onto it as he stood up to prevent it from moving around too much.
"Brie! Alex! October!" He heard Alex calling out for him. They needed his help far more right now. He ran- he was able to do that much, finding the source of Alex's voice. He found Alex propped up against a car-- and looked around once more. October was nearby. And was that Brie in the distance? He couldn't be sure.
"Alex, hold still. Can you tell me your name?" Sho stumbled towards him, examining him with the one hand he could use. He needed to check if Alex has a concussion. Then, he turned the male's head left and right to check for head injuries. Further assessments were made, seeing his limbs still attached with no bleeding. The next was running his hands down his torso. "Alex, tell me where it hurts." It wasn't surprising when he was treated to sounds of pain.
"OCTOBER, BRIE!" He called out, needing their help. He attempted to tear a piece of fabric from his coat with his teeth and one hand, but he would need help applying it since his other hand wouldn't move at all.
It was war, plain and simple, and Cecil wished he hadn't been there to see it. The Harbingers had proved to be just as aggressive as they had heard and it was all Cecil could do to avoid the heavy fire and try to keep an eye out for his friends. He had been lucky, despite his size, he had avoided the gunfire but it was a grenade the finally took him off his feet.
Cecil had gone flying, limbs flailing as he landed against the rumble face first. His ears were ringing, vision blurred as he tried to get his bearings in the madness. Getting to his feet wasn't easy, the woozy feeling nearly took him back down to the ground and his ears weren't picking up the potential danger of gunfire. Instead the first thing he heard was the muffled words of regroup through the buzz in his ears.
He staggered back to safety then and took a seat so that his vision could level out but it never did, not fully. He could feel the sting of soreness around his right eye and carefully touched the area and found it swollen and growing worse. No doubt it would bruise but all things considered he was lucky, very lucky to only have a black eye. There were others that were far worse off from what he could tell but he wasn't sure if he was going to be more of a burden at this point or not. His vision had already been rather poor to begin with and now his depth perception left him running into things or people when he didn't mean to because he couldn't tell how close they were.
The time had passed slowly while their faction leader had been gone and he didn't know what to make of the information upon their return. "They can't just tell us regardless?" He didn't understand. Wouldn't there be more benefit to at least let them know even if they couldn't equip them with what they needed. Something was better than nothing. The majority could survive instead of only a few but that didn't seem to be the priority. For now he needed to worry about his own.
Quote:
7. Black eye. Difficulty seeing from one eye. Loss of depth perception.
OOC
Character's name: Cecil Halvorson Character's faction: District 1 (University) Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: View Jersey Number: 35 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Cecil is tall standing at 6'9" (206cm), platinum gray hair that is long on one side and shaved on the other. It is likely pulled back into a bun for convience. Image reference
It had been all fun and games when the mall was all about playing house in abandoned store and just trying to survive day to day. But having a concrete end-date for their unexpected zombie-infested camping trip was giving Lissa some serious cabin fever, and she needed to go out on the town for a little fresh air. The new outfit should have given her something of a confidence booster, wearing something fresh and clean for the first time in weeks, but outside of the safety of the mall a thin polyester dress felt less like a mark of distinction and more like a huge liability. They'd only been walking a few blocks when the hem began to fray, the outfit meant for someone slightly taller and much more fragile than she.
But dammit, she was a khaleesi, and that's what mattered.
It was surreal watching the crowd form under the Harbinger's outer walls, survivors from every district in the city wearing an assortment of identifying markers. There was something unnerving about having this many people all together, almost like the world wasn't meant to hold more than her Mall Rats and that anyone else was just unneccessary excess.
Still, it didn't stop her from looking one of the University members up and down with a satisfied grin and a lick of her lips. "Ooh, baby, you look real nice and clean, why don't you co--"
Lissa had been too busy trying to make the other survivor uncomfortable to notice when the Harbingers began to raise their weapons. The rapport of sudden gunfire made her jump so hard she nearly tripped out of her dress, to her own chagrin. She was cursing under her breath when the panic began to murmur among the crowd, and she only started moving when the Mall Rats converged upon one another, clinging to eachother and their stinky costumed selves.
"What's going on? I didn't hea--" were the last words Lissa said before getting knocked to the side by a grenade's concussive blast. With no warning and no time to catch her fall, she hit the cold concrete hard, splayed out and disoriented as she struggled to gain purchase against the obviously swirling world. She managed to drag herself to her knees, only to look out on a world of panic and smoke and blood and fire, just like when everything started. Someone ahead of her fell, too quickly for Lissa to catch, but she did not stop to pick them up, not when there were too many people around and everyone in her periphery looked like they could be shamblers. If they'd been shot then they were probably already dead and she needed to move.
Perhaps it was fate telling her that she should have stayed for her fallen comrade, because the next person she found eye contact with in the debacle wasn't wearing a halloween costume, but was carrying a baseball bat. The person swung hard and true, slamming into Lissa's face with a sickening squelch and a crack that felt like nails on a chalkboard, except where the chalkboard was her spine. Lissa had taken hits before, but there was no stopping a home run swing, and she went down hard, clutching at her face like it might crumble otherwise. It felt like hours, stuck with nothing but sensory overload of explosions and screams and smoke and pain, a white hot searing pain at the bottom of her mouth that ebbed and pulsed with every heartbeat. Had she bitten her tongue off? Was she bleeding out? She was too afraid to check.
But eventually, there were hands on her shoulders, and she felt herself dragged up from the ground. She winced, guarding the wound with her hands, but eventually managed to open her eyes and survey what had happened in the brief lapse of her world. The groups were all divided, and slightly thinner if her eyes were to be believed, and Guy was gone, leaving the rest of the rats to huddle together while they listened to strangers preach about things she could care less about when her face felt like it was actively on fire.
She should have just stuck with the cabin fever. Getting attacked like this again was complete and utter horse s**t.
OOC
Character's name: Elizabeth "Lissa" Buckly Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:[Journal] Character's survival stats: [Stats] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Freckly-tan skin, wavy auburn hair, brown eyes, stands at 5' 7" with strong shoulders and a little bit of holdover baby fat on her stomach and thighs. Currently wearing cat ears and a light blue gown made of cheap fabric, calling to mind a particular character from Game of Thrones. The dress is worn over what appears to be a light jacket and jeans because nothing about Khaleesi's outfit is Canada-approved.
2. Injury to leg. Up to you if bullet wound or blunt damage. Light hairpin fracture. Cannot run/ must walk slowly/ must use either a crutch or assistance from another player. $#^*@$%!!! Your right leg aches badly from the damage you taken during the grenades' explosion. You tried leaning more weight on it & almost buckled. Well, sh*t. You're going to have to find something to act as your clutch for however long your leg is going to take to heal.
OOC
Name: Rinko Emiya Faction: District 1 - University Journal:Link Survival Stats:View Description:Reference
LeavingGO
Inquisitive Nerd
Offline
gachide rolled 1 10-sided dice:
8Total: 8 (1-10)
gachide
Newbie Noob
Offline
Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2015 10:00 pm
'Come along scavenging with us', they said, 'it'll be a faction outing.' It also seemed to be every other faction's outing, which on one hand was reassuring, because it meant there were people still alive out there, and on the other it was extremely frightening because none of the other factions looked friendly in the remotest way. Joy Ann blinked at the other survivors, partly curious, partially wary, and then there were the Harbringers and the attacks and--
Let's just say that Joy Ann really wasn't cut out for war. She fainted, and when she came to (thankfully protected by a few of her faction mates) she almost straight out fainted again. It was very clearly a war zone, and the pain-- She brought a tentative hand up to her jaw and cried out and then stifled her next cry in her throat because it hurt to move her face. Really, it hurt all over, inside and out, but she wasn'tgoingtothinkaboutit. She would just have to get on. Everyone else seemed to be getting on, and she certainly wasn't going to sit here in the mud left to fend by herself. No, she was going to buck up and help her faction where she could. Blinding pain or not.
She pulled herself into a sitting position and clung to the backpack she'd brought with her. It front pocket held a pencil, pen, and small notepad, and one of the side pockets held a small radio unit that she had found squawking in her cell that morning. She didn't know how it had gotten there, but the very thought of connection with the outside world had made her turn the volume down and carry it around with her all day. So far she'd heard things about a password, an outbreak, some shapes, and some colors, a warning about grenades, but nothing that suggested any of her students were still alive... Not that she would be thinking of them in a time like this.
Tears welling up in her eyes, Joy Ann slowly got off the ground and made 'thank you' faces at the people who had helped keep her in relatively one piece. She was pretty sure her jaw was now in multiple pieces, but maybe it was just a fracture. The twenty-two year old wrapped her small hope around her and stared at the now-open barricade... It was time to help her faction... Whatever it was they were doing.
OOC
Character's name: Joy Ann McKinsley Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:yum_puddiyum_puddiyum_puddi Character's survival stats: yum_teayum_teayum_tea BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER ++ Hardworking, Compassionate // -- Disorganized, Insecure = Slightly shorter than average at 5'2", a little bit pudgy and known for giving great hugs = 22 years old with not nearly enough life experience = Mousy brown, shoulder-length braided hair = Formerly bright colored floral-print dress with leggings underneath = Large smile that has turned to worried grimace = Usually awkwardly left behind or forgotten about in conversations
Luridel rolled 1 10-sided dice:
7Total: 7 (1-10)
Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2015 10:06 pm
Quote:
7. Black eye. Difficulty seeing from one eye. Loss of depth perception.
It was dark. Ingrid pressed a hand to her left eye and sat up, groaning. She wasn't sure how long she'd been out of it. She listened quietly to the announcement and stood, shakily. She'd been lucky, and she knew it.
OOC
Character's name: Ingrid Liu Character's faction: Apartments Character's journal link: [ x ] Character's survival stats: [ x ] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Twenty-four years old. Five feet, three inches. Lime green lab goggles. Lime green umbrella. Lime green LED wristwatch. Black-and-white polka-dot scarf. You may have heard her voice before - DJ Grid of RADIO DELTA.
Sho was damn right he'd be getting shouts of pains. He was lucky he wasn't getting a kick in the face.
If it wasn't hard enough to do.
"Ribs." He hissed through the pain, sweat and he was sure a little blood and mostly dirt melded together on his forehead. "Feels like a truck ran over me." He tried to push himself up so that he could move but...it hurt...like a b***h.
"Get Brie and October, then lets get the hell out of here..." He pushed a painful smile out. "I don't wanna stick around for a zombie to get me. We need to move."
Kammy was trying to figure out why everyone thought it was a great idea to confront a group of vicious bandits that were armed. Really, who had thought this? It was like trying to participate in a lv 80 guild war without any gear. And you were level 10.
However, this war was real, and these people had lost compassion for their fellow man long ago. As soon as she had moved closer to her comrades, she saw the small green projectiles thrown their way, and she was hurled like a rag doll amongst a sea of noise and explosions. Her head hit the ground, everything going dark.
But she wasn't out. The shrill ring in her ears told her she wasn't unconscious. Which was odd, cause she couldn't see anything even when she opened her eyes -
Oh s**t she was blind.
There were people shouting for her to get up, yet Kammy stayed were she was. Where the heck was she supposed to go to she couldn't see anything! "I'm having a crisis here!" She shouted, but with the gunfire still going she decided to get up and just run somewhere, away from the gunfire and towards the sounds of her leaders. Or in this case a pole.
"Ow" She rubbed her face, then stilled as a wail sound started up. "OH s**t WE HAVE BANSHEES NOW. ********."
When that noise died down, she was left to wander around, hands out and trying to feel around while she called out for her university team mates and hoped they were close by.
Character's name: Jenna Kamryn Character's faction: University Character's journal link: Journal Character's survival stats: Stats BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Kammy has dark brown hair with blonde highlights, teal eyes, and is leaning on the side of short.
There were rumors of a weapon, Rich had heard, that could actually put down the undying; as in permanently killing what, they had for the past thirty-one days, could not be killed. God, Rich muttered to himself as they tagged along to the Harbingers' turf, if they could get that weapon -- Well, that would be right as rain, it would. They'd be able to hold out for the last week, and maybe - just maybe - Rich would get to see Coral and Lorraine again. Hell, maybe they could even go on the offensive with the thing, take the fight to the damned Shamblers.
The Harbringers' turf was pretty much what Rich had come expecting. Lots of guards, plenty of guns trained on them. Just like a drug bust, but with plenty more than coke money on the line. Snipers with trained eyes were stationed at the approach, but Rich had to wonder just how sharp their minds were. Sniping was a whole lot 'a math, and Rich had only known maybe one or two hired thugs that were good at math.
But maybe these guys weren't your common criminal. Hell, they may have been decent people, before Day Zero. Mothers, fathers - some of them may have been just suits working in a cubicle for 8 hours a day, or maybe they were hard working people in the food or retail industries, slaving away to bring quality service to the people of Delta. Hell, there could even be some of Delta's Boys in Blue holed up with this gang, using their talents to help the rest survive. Come to think of it, that's probably how they got all their guns; they must have gone back to the police station and loaded up.
The time for musing was over, the bullet that whizzed by Rich's ear announced. It had long been over, in fact, whispered another. Warning shots became shoot to kill orders, and fire began exchanging faster than the fellers in Wall Street. If only he had his darned .5 Millimeter from back in Kentucky -
Everything was suddenly white, a harsh white that bled through the skull and straight into the brain with icy daggers, digging and prying away at meat and nerves, and suddenly was gone again. There was blood, so much blood, and too much noise. Rich tried to breathe, but his whole torso felt as though a giant hand was crushing it in a vice grip. "Get up!" He heard, and with Herculean effort, the Officer managed to pull himself up from the floor and got ready to run, if his lungs would let him.
But then the shriek happened, the undying left, the infected were mowed down. A truce was called, tentative at best. They had to do stuff and things for the Harbingers to get the weapon.
"Dunno how much use ah'll be, what with-" Rich began, but was stopped with a violent fit of coughing that just racked his body with even more shrill daggers in his side.
Gawd.
OOC
Character's name: Rich Filth Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:[x] Character's survival stats: [x] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Tall and built like a Kentucky farmer's son, graying hair and beard. Currently wearing a reindeer cap. [x]
