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[ DORMS ]

It was dawn. The group had all been woken, and after morning rituals were completed, the next objective was to head down to the only exit to the dorms, to go out and scavenge what was left of their once beautiful University.

This time, however, something was a little different; all three of the appointed Leaders, blocking the way to the exit, a rather large box between them.

"GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE!" Corey Lane, once-Student President, now University Leader, yelled. Though not without flinching. In the last month, noise had gone from being a constant, to a complete danger; any amount of it was enough to make this particular survivor twitch. The amount of quiet that followed was a decent indicator of how many felt the same, and once the morning crowd had settled, she continued.

"Before we head out to scavenge today, we have one small announcement to make: Last night's scavenging team brought back an interesting shipment. We've decided to use these to keep track of each other. Lord knows we need a way to do it now, what with all those rotting bastards running around. So! Here's the plan:" The exhausted woman stepped to the side, indicating the box for the first time.

"Single file, step forward, grab a jersey, then speak to either Caroline-" The red head was gestured towards. "-Or Charlie-" The gesture towards the once-mascot was rather brief. "-To sign out the Jersey as yours. Then you can go about your day outside, like normal. For example." She turned her back to them, and grabbed the first Jersey out of the box. Then, to Charlie, she spoke. "Corey Lane, Jersey 00." She said, waiting for him to write her name down before turning back to the group.

"You must keep these on at all times when you're out there. It'll be the fastest way to differentiate between us and any of the infected moving around. Plus, if you become an infected and you're wearing a numbered jersey, nothing says easy like 'Hey, take out number thirteen', right?" She flashed a grin. A quick, almost cocky grin.

"If you have any questions, I'm here to answer them, as always. Now! Step forward, claim your jersey, and go out there to find what you can. Stay safe. Be thorough. Come back as uninfected as you left." Without anything else to say, she stepped aside, still in view of everyone else, and let the other two take over.

[ Dorms ]

At the crack of dawn, which would hatch into the morning that led to the morning roll call, Caroline did not wake to attend.

This was due to the fact that she had forgotten to sleep entirely. While admittedly preferable to not waking due to death, it was still not an optimal situation, and was something quite foolish, considering her lack of progress on anything meaningful. To cover for herself, she made a show of yawning once or twice, then fell instantly back into silent subtlety when Corey graciously directed everyone's attention.

She made no effort to appear especially welcoming or approachable when her name was mentioned, nor did she look at the others at all - her eyes were on the box of numbered jerseys, her fingers anxiously weaving themselves in and out and in between each other. It would be there...it would be there...

"Zero-zero for you," she addressed Corey, before turning to Charlie. "And thirteen for you."

It made sense to say aloud, considering the necessity of cataloging the numbers that correlated with each person, but there was something akin to relief in her tone by the time she spoke the second number. She made quick work of fishing through the box to find the number she was searching for, and held it tightly in both hands once she'd succeeded.

"And nine is mine." Victory.

With that, she finally turned her attention to the rest of the group, glancing over (through) each of them. Her lips were pressed tightly together as she looked out among them, before she called out to them in the stern-yet-exasperated cadence that mothers were known for:

"Don't lose yourselves."

She sounded serious about this, whatever it meant.

[ Dorms ]

Lucy was having a hard time sleeping as of late what with all the craziness that the world had devolved into, but she had managed to survive so far so she counted what small blessings she had in that regard. Still, when she stood there in front of their de facto leaders she couldn't help but worry if the worst was still yet to come.

She eyed the jerseys. They were hardly flattering but still - what's the worst that could be asked for. She didn't really want to deal with any of this. Couldn't she just go back to the dorm and sleep? Still - if the University did fall apart, then there would be no place for her to hide from the awful infected and worse out there.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly moved forward and thought for a moment. "Could I have number 21?" She'd had just turned 21 a few months back so the number still held SOME significance to her.

[Dorms]
Somehow, this old piece of animated shoe leather carved in the shape of a man has survived for a month, and nobody's really sure how. The stranded law professor knew well enough that the dorms were the center of activities among the living, and that he was vastly outnumbered by young people. He's so tired. Surely everyone here is tired, but his age and composure and having to endure both an onslaught of the undead and people who are just barely out of diapers for a solid month with no respite is making him a bit pricklier than usual.

A deep frown is etched on his face as he strides up to the pile of jerseys, cane tapping along the floor as he scans the numbers, locking on to a certain digit and grabbing it in a fist.

It's number one, of course.

Because he is number one.

It's really the only redeeming thing about this identification system, honestly. He holds the garment up to himself, feeling the fabric texture with his fingers with a look of repulsion, looking towards the rest of the dorm's residents with barely-masked dismay.

"We have to wear these?"

Sigh. If his husband were here, he'd surely get a kick out of this were this not in the context of a widespread undead plague that must have surely taken him by now (or so he would assume).

Roll call had easily become a routine. It was some form of structure that remained of the chaotic world everyone had been thrown into. It wasn't much but there really wasn't much to be had and Cecil would be thankful for what little he got. He just felt terrible that everyone looked so low on sleep. There was no helping it really. University was known for stress in general and since day zero that stress had easily quadrupled. He was no stranger to sleepless nights, woken easily by simple sounds that didn't always pertain to a threat at hand. At least he was still functional, to a point, and did his best to smile when appropriate.

Listening intently to Corey, Cecil's attention fell to the box as she explained what was inside, hearing Charlie and Caroline speak up after in turn. He didn't think much about being numbered or cataloged in this way and simply stood in line to wait his turn to grab a jersey. When he finally stepped up to the box he shuffled around until he found a jersey of suitable size. The number wasn't entirely important.

"Looks like I have thirty five." He said with a small smile, lifting the shirt into view before slinging it over his shoulder for the time being.

[ Dorms ]

It was early, and Hitsu was tired. She was used to both things, though before everything had gone down she'd slept at least suitably well. Oh, what it would be like to sleep soundly again...

Corey was a little too loud first thing in the morning, but other than a slight wince at the volume of the woman's voice she showed no upset. "Morning," she echoed, in habit of returning the greeting if nothing else.

She was an intent listener, even if her gaze went to the box the moment that it was gestured to. The contents and purpose of them made a lot of sense to her. It was funny, in a way, that they were to be adopting the team's uniform. Well, they were a team now, sort of.

Stepping into line with everyone else, Hitsu approached the box and reached in for a jersey when it was her turn to do so. She held it up, both in inspection and to see the number properly. Tucking it into the crook of her arm to put on momentarily, she moved out of the way of those still waiting and spoke the leader nearest her; Charlie. She was sure to address herself exactly how she had been told.

"Hitsuzen Vang, Jersey 27."