Roleplay Posts

Katherine:

Creak.
Creak.
Creak.

Footsteps. Someone was coming. Kayden didn't even glance up. She was too busy to worry about what may or may not be happening. She had to figure out a way to repel the mosquitos. They were becomming a huge problem, you see. They tried to pray off of the infected. Then, when they bit a live human, they ended up spreading the deadly Solanum Virus, more commonly known as the Zombie Infection.

Kayden sighed wearily, resisting the urge to take off her gloves and wipe her eyes. How long had it been since she'd last slept?

Too long, of course, but with the days stretching out endlessly like this, that really meant nothing to her.

"Hey, hun." Kayden glanced up for a moment, smiling wearily at her wife.

"How's the research going?" Kayden sighed, carefully setting aside the microscope.

"Not well," she grimaced, "once the mosquitos get infected, it seems to change their biological makeup. None of the normal repellants do anything to keep them away. And even those that don't carry the virus are usually carriers of West Nile Virus or Rift Valley Fever. And with all the water so goddamn polluted beyond belief and just laying there, uncovered, everywhere in the cities, they're breeding like crazy..." Helena nodded. It really was a problem requiring immediate attention. It was becomming dangerous for civilians to go outside without being completely covered... though with the zombies wandering the streets, going out unprotected was quite foolish, anyway.

"Honestly, hun, I don't think that's what we need to be worrying about right now. We need to find a cure for this virus. We need to find out what makes people like you and me immune. We need to find the other survivors and study them. See what makes them different. See how they can survive." Kayden nodded. It was something she and Helena had discussed countless times before. They would, of course, use themselves as the subjects, but neither one was entirely sure how the testing would work. It was quite possible that it would turn out deadly, and neither wanted to lose the other. Besides, they reasoned, they were two of the around twenty scientists still living in the area. Their help was greatly needed. They couldn't risk losing any more scientists.

But if they couldn't be used, someone else would have to. Kayden and Helena needed to find more survivors and test them for the cure. Age, family, skills, personality. None of that mattered. It was for the greater good.

It would all be worth it, in the end.

It was terrible; it was impossible, but it was happening. They were being overrun. The zombies just kept coming, walking towards the building. Maybe there was a reason for this, or maybe there wasn't, but all the zombies were coming towards the building like a giant mob. It didn't matter how many zombies were shot or cut down, they just kept coming. The group of about 200 had reduced to about 50 in only a few days. This was partly because of the bugs being able to enter now that the zombies had broken the sanctum, and partly because of the fact that the sentries fell asleep and woke up as zombies while everyone was asleep. They were down to their last floor of the building, but there were too many zombies; they wouldn't be able to hold them for more than about a week here on the last floor, and that's if they were lucky and their supplies lasted.
There was something odd about the entire situation, zombies hadn't acted aggressively on such a large scale before, and the weirdest thing was, they were targeting the scientists. No one knew why, not even the scientists. There was hardly anyone left to protect the scientists either. The only way Terris had even been able to survive as long has he had, was his immunity, some luck, and the fact that he had been used mainly as a messenger throughout the attack. As far as Terris knew, there was no way out.
However, now the scientists knew that they wouldn't be able to keep their precious equipment if they were to survive, so they showed all that were left a secret tunnel out, and made them all carry a copy of their research. If anything happened to them, at least their knowledge would remain an perhaps help those remaining pockets of humanity. They fled.
However, just before they had left the tunnel, it collapsed. Everyone died except for Terris, who was lucky enough to have been just behind the collapse. He climbed out and ran for 2 days, stopping only to sleep in hidden areas, making sure not to lose the precious three envelopes containing the scientists' research, labeled Armor, Weapons, and Immunity. He then collapsed outside of a store that probably used to say, "Lucky's", but now said, "Uckys."

Thomas sighed, running his fingers through his oily hair and grimacing. God, he needed a shower. Too bad hot water was one luxury he couldn't afford right now.

Thomas snorted. Right. Like anything about his current life was luxurious.

He was hitting his thirtieth hour without sleep. He knew he needed to go back to the hotel where he and Cyrus were staying, soon, and exchange shifts with Cyrus. But he didn't want to. Not yet. He knew that, upon arriving back at the hotel, he would need to take the chance to sleep. At the moment, he was far too tense to relax. Which was ridiculuos. Theoretically, he should be adjusted to the new appoptalyptic order of the world. But when you factoured in his emotions, which were always negative, his nerves, which were shot to Hell, his senses, which had to be constantly strained, and his brain, which was on constant red alert, he wasn't dealing so well.

Zombies were trying to kill everyone. Zombies. Who was doing well?

Not to mention Thomas had a bit of a disadvantage. Cyrus, he had recently learned, was immune. He couldn't get the zombie disease. Sure, Smallpox or Maleria could take him out. But Cyrus could never become a zombie, a member of the living dead.

Thomas kicked shadows, cursing out his non-defective genes. Then he perked up at a small noise. His entire body froze, muscles tensing. He slowly drew his gun and walked towards the source. He rounded the corner of the old Lucky's store and glanced down and what appeared to be a young teenager, around ten or so years younger than himself.

"Kid," he hissed, "hey, kid." He prayed the kid would respond. Zombies, after all, couldn't talk.

Thomas steadied his gun and prepared to shoot.

Cyrus shifted the weight of his gun to his other shoulder. He stood guard outside the old Marriott hotel, listening intently for the signature guttural moans of approaching Zed. Zombies of course, couldn't talk. Their brains had deteriorated far too much to speak intelligently. But they did make animalistic groans when they sensed warm bodies and lumbered towards their prey.

At first when the colony had originally settled in the hotel, the zombies crowded much closer around the building, and in the night, their moans unnerved many of the survivors. The Zed had been pushed back over time, though not easily. It was hard living after original Return. Many had suffered mental breakdowns, if they hadn't already been infected.

Such as Thomas. The guy was insomniac, his eyes seemingly permanently bloodshot. Back in the old days, Cyrus would've called him one of the 'walking dead.' But you didn't joke about those things anymore. Not with the real dead roaming the streets outside.

"Damn," Cyrus muttered. Where was Thomas? He should've been two hours ago to switch shifts. If he was gone much longer, he would have to be assumed MIA and an actual patrol team would have to go looking for him. If he'd just come back on time, there wouldn't be all this fuss. Fletcher could easily search for him telepathically, but if he really was in trouble, someone had to be there to help him.

He looked around quickly, and seeing that no one was around, he withdrew a cigarette from inside his jeans pocket and lit with a match. He put in in his mouth and took a deep drag on it. Cyrus knew he should've quit smoking a long time ago, and Annette frequently badgered him to stop his habit. Did it really matter though? The world was already ending, and he was more likely to die by zombie, than die by lung cancer.

Terris groaned something about wanting to stay in bed and sat up, not sure where he was or what he was doing. There was a guy pointing a gun at his head. THERE WAS A GUY POINTING A GUN AT HIS HEAD!!!!! What was he supposed to do???, cry???, silently die??? He fainted...(can you really blame him???, he just ran for two days, was attacked by a giant horde of zombies, and thinks he's about to die...)

Thomas tenses when the creauture groans, convinced that it's a zombie. Then he realizes that the creature was talking about being allowed to sleep more... when the creature faints, that just seals into Thomas's mind that no, this creature is just a stupid teen.

"Come on, kid," he groans himself, hoisting the kid over his should and beginning to carry him back to camp.

"Cyrus," he grunts, nodding at the older man, "look what I found laying around. A kid." He drops Terris, poking him with his shoe as if seeing how he'll react.

"I think he fainted when I saw my gun. He seems young. Think it's worth it to keep him? For all I know, he might be hiding an infection. And he probably won't be able to do much." It's painfully obvious that while Thomas didn't want to be directly responsable for the kid's death, he doesn't actually want him around.

Cyrus meets Thomas at the outskirts of the colony.

"What took you so long?" he growls. His eyes widen when he sees the unconcious body Thomas is holding. Cyrus squats next to the man, no a teenager, and examines him. He's out cold and his clothes are filthy, even compared to their own deteriorated apparel.

"Here, I'll bring him to Annette. If he's infected, we can quarantine him and then cast him out. Unless he's immune, that is." He hoists the body onto his shoulder, grunting at the effort. "We keep everyone we find," he reminds Thomas. The other survivor was never eager to help others, a fact that somewhat bothered him.

"And get some sleep, will you?" he asks, looking directly at Thomas. "You've been up for more than a whole day. If you keep it up, you'll become like them." Cyrus jerks his head in the general direction of the zombie-infested areas of the city. "Besides, you dragged this kid across town. You must be exhausted."

Cyrus starts off in the direction of the makeshift hospital room. Annette is inside doing a checkup on one of the small children, one of the few who survived.

"Open wide," she instructs. They have no fancy medical equipment, but they make do with what they have. She shines a flashlight down the child's throat. "Hmmm ... doesn't seem like anything serious. You're fine. But wash your hands a lot, just in case, okay?" Annette sends her off smiling.

When she sees Cyrus, she immediately rushes over. "What happened to him?" she asks. "And who is he?" She draws back slightly. "Just some kid Thomas found on the street." he replies, laying him on the ground and stretching his arms. "I brought him to you to see if he's okay."

Annette twists her hands. "Well, put him in that bed over there. I think he just fainted from exhaustion. When he wakes up, I'll make sure. He just needs a lot of rest, whoever he is." She smiles. "Another survivor!"

Thomas watches Cyrus leave before grunting and sullenly entering the bedding area. A few people smile at him, but he ignores them.

Thomas all but falls onto his bed. He doesn't bother changing out of his clothes, and it takes all his motivation to kick off his shoes. Dully, he wonders when he became like this. He can almost remember a time when finding another survivor would have made him all but whoop with joy. Now, it means nothing to him. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's beginning to think the zombies will win. There's just no way to survive like this. With the virus, the diseases, the fanatics, the constant hunger, the shortages on supplies, the overwhelming terror. How could any human survive in a climate like this?

By mutating, of course. By becomming something more. Something special. Something new. Different. Something not human at all.

For what has to be the thousandth time, Thomas curses the fact that, unlike the majority of the camp, he is neither immune, nor does he have any sort of ability. He's simply a computer tech guy. How did he have survive? When so many others died, why was he the one to survive? What did he ever do to deserve this new life?

Thomas tries not to wish that he had been one of the first to die. For all he knows, after all, within every zombie is a setient being screaming silently, begging to be set free. But being shot in the head or catching a quick, painless disease. Why couldn't he be one of the ones to go silently before the terror began? What did he do to deserve this?!

Thankfully, his sleep, when it comes, is deep. Nightmares don't visit him.

It doesn't matter. Real life is worse.

As the moans of the undead grew louder, activity inside the abandoned house on Elm Street became a frenzied rush. Scavengers hurried as fast as they could. scrambling around the house, salvaging what they could into large trash bags. The one tall dark-haired guard stood guard by the door, holding one of the precious few weapons, a rifle.

"Hurry up! They'll be here in two minutes. We've got to get out before then," he snapped.

"Calm down, Ivan," said the blonde man dragging a black bag up from the basement. "We've got enough time. We're almost finished, okay?" He rolled his eyes. "Here, I'll go help Victor."

Ivan glared at him angrily. "None of us will be calm when the zombies get here."

Daniel was already up the steps three at a time. "Hey Victor? Where are you?"

"I here," came a muffled voice from the bathroom. "In the restroom?" Daniel asked puzzedly. "Shampoo, toothpaste, and toothbrushes," the Vietnamese man said grinning, poking his head out the door. "And a couple towels,"

Daniel smiled back. "Finally! I haven't felt clean since our soap ran out." Victor laughed, and stuffed the rest of the bottles in the bag. They both ran downstairs to where Ivan waited disapprovingly.

"Ready?" he asked. "Yep," Daniel replied. "Okay." Ivan slowly eased the front door open and looked outside, checking in both directions. "Looks safe," he whispered, and the three men hurried out, each carrying multiple trash bags. Of course, zombies couldn't hear anything, but whispering seemed to fit the situation.

After sprinting down many blocks, they finally reached their destination: an old brick supermarket. The sign had once read "Kroger," but a year ago, the "K" had fallen off, leaving it to say "Roger." There was an actual Roger in their camp, an old senior confined to a wheelchair, but he had become sort of their mascot, and everyone took pride in keeping him comfortable.

Denise was wheeling him around the camp, which was mostly contained inside the supermarket, for his unofficial 'inspection' when they burst in panting. Though veritably ancient, he always had wise suggestions to add.

"Oh! You're back early," she said surprisedly. "Did the Zed scare the little boys off?" she teased. "You young'ns got no spirit no more," Roger rasped, smiling toothily.

"They were closer than we thought. They've come up two blocks." Ivan replied shortly.

"Come on, cheer up!" Victor nudged Ivan, who ignored him. Denise frowned. "I thought we drove them off." Ivan shrugged. "So did I."

"Anyways, give the food to Emma, and everything else goes to Sasha." Denise rattled off orders that they followed promptly.

"Wha-What happened?" asked Terris as his eyes slowly opened and dreariness started to slowly leave him. Then he remembered, and immediately sat straight up, causing his head to spin. "Where am I?" he asked. As far as Terris could tell, he was in some kind of hospital, what with the multiple beds taking up most of the room, but you never knew, especially with the zombie apocolypse. None of this was supposed to happen..., and why did it have to be him who randomly survived only to perhaps be subjected to unknown horrors???

Annette noticed the young stranger waking up and walked over to his bed. "Hello. No, don't get up yet, you need to rest. I'm Annette. What's your name?" She wondered where he was from. She only knew of one other colony nearby, and she didn't think someone would exhaust themselves running from one camp to another.

"You're inside the hospital room of an old hotel. It's where we're based in. My colony, that is. We found you outside the old supermarket a few blocks down. What happened to you?"

As she spoke, Annette packed away the medical equipment and took off her doctor's coat. She didn't really need it, but it helped make her feel more professional; like a real doctor, not just a nurse pretending to be one. Everyone told her that she did a wonderful job, much better than they every could, but secretly, Annette feared that she didn't do enough. A real doctor was what people needed, not her.

She tied her long red hair into a ponytail and patted her side for the knife on her belt that everyone without a gun carried. Reassured by its presence, she unfolded an old wheelchair and rolled it out. "You probably shouldn't walk yet, but if you feel up to it, I can give you a tour of the camp," she offered.

Annette jumped to attention. "How could I forget?!?" she exclaimed. "I'm a terrible nurse." This was exactly what she felt ashamed of; forgetting simple things like keeping her patients hydrated. She rushed to the corner of the room and retrieved two water bottles. "You must be terribly dehydrated. Drink the water," she commanded. "All of it by the time my tour's over." She smiled encouragingly. "Well? Do you feel well enough?"

"My-my colony was attacked by the zombies in unnaturally large numbers. We were overrun and escaped through an underground tunnel, but the tunnel collapsed and I was the only survivor. I-I just ran after that, not really knowing where I was going." Terris purposefully 'forgot' to mention the research, that was explicitly for the scientists at the colonly. After all, it was the scientists that could put it to good use. "I would like to," Terris nervously replied to Annette's offer, after taking the water bottle and promising to drink all of it.

(( I'm going to assume that Terris got into the wheelchair, alright? ))
(( ... and that he also told Annette his name ... - _ - ... ))

Once Terris is comfortably seated in the wheelchair, Annette rolls him out of the makeshift hospital. "Where was your colony anyways? I only know of two others around here, and we mostly keep to ourselves." They enter the dimly lit lobby.

"The hospital's on the first floor, so it's easy to reach. None of the elevators work anymore; we have a small generator, but it just takes too much electricity to make them work. That's Inez and Marco over there behind the lobby counter. They're the go-to people around here, in charge of work assignments, food rations, and recon info."

Annette waves at them, greeting them enthusiastically. "Hey guys! We've got a new survivor here. His name is Terris. Thomas found him outside the old supermarket down the road."

"Hi Terris," says Inez. She nudges Marco with her elbow, who has his feet propped up on the countertop and is leaning back into his swivel chair snoring. He wakes up startedly.

"Huh? What is it?" he asks groggily, rubbing his eyes. "Oh," he straightens up as he sees Annette and a stranger. "Hey, Anne. Who's that?" Inez elbows him again.

"Be more polite. This is Terris, he's a new survivor. A new victim for us to assign work to," she declares wickedly, but her grin gives away the joke. "So, would you like to be put on patrol duty near the zombies at the elementary school? Or work duty building the wall in the hot summer sun?"

Marco ignores Inez and stretches out his hand. "Hello, Terris. I'm Marco Hernandez. It's good to meet you."

Rage sighs in frustration.

"Angel," she growled through clenched teeth, "I know you hate the food here. I get that it's too slimy for you. But for God's sake, kid, you have to eat!" Angel laughed slightly, shaking her head. She glanced again at the morsels of food in front of her, poked one doubtfully, and then shook her head again. Then she went still, a curious expression coming to her face. Leaping up, the thirteen year old skipped quickly over to the lobby area of the shelter, leaving Rage to sigh in exasperation and follow her sister, trying not to fume too obviously.

Reaching the lobby, though, she glanced over in surprise.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, "who's the newbie?!"

"Oh hey, Rage. Hello Angel." Annette brushes some auburn hair away from her face. She was surprised to see the two sisters here. "I thought you two were on breakfast duty today, helping wash the dishes." Everything in the colony was hand washed as running water was rare.

"This is Terris. He's new here. Thomas - do you know him? - he found Terris passed out by the old supermarket. Terris, meet Rage and Angel. They're our resident teenagers here. They mostly have free rein and a lot of extra time, so if you see them anywhere, I'm sure they'll be happy to help you out." Annette smiled brightly and indicated each sister in turn.

Though she rather liked both, there was something about each that always seemed to put Annette off her stride. Rage, for instance, had a certain passion to her that made everyone treat her more respectfully than they would a normal teenager. With Angel, her dreamy attitude lent her a kind of amused forgiveness for anything she did. She had an ethereal, detatched behavior which made her slightly otherwordly, even excluding her own psychic talents.

As the teenage girls and Terris awkwardly greet each other, all of them joined by an excited Inez, Annette finds herself pulled to the side of the lobby by Marco.

"Annette, I know we accept any survivor we find, but we have to be practical. Food supplies are running low. If we keep adding more people at this rate, we'll have to decrease rations again! We keep having to send scavengers further and further away from the colony to find food, and our crops haven't exactly been a whopping success."

She nodded, but responded: "I know, I know, but we can't just turn people away! Look, we'll figure something out, okay?"

"Hey Anette," Rage grinned, "hi Terris! Nice to meet ya. I'm Rage, Angel is my sister. Well, technically, I'm Rain, she's Amy, but those names are boring, haha. I'm sixteen, Angel is thirteen. So, yeap, we're teens. Bummer. But then, you don't look so old yourself." Rage tactfully avoided mentioning the dishes. She'd clean them! Eventually. Maybe.

Angel just smiled at the new comer before turning her attention elsewhere.

-
((And now, to make Thomas fit in with your post...))

Thomas woke up. To his annoyance, he felt no better rested than he had before. He got up anyway, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head telling him he wasn't tired... he was starving. He needed to conserve energy. But really, there was work to be done, he couldn't just lounge around all day.

Grunting, he stood up, forcing himself to wander into the lobby. He raised an eyebrow, noticing there was already a small group there. Inez, Marco, and Annette he could have expected. Seeing both of those crazy sisters and the new guy, though, was slightly more odd.

He grunted again in a noncommital manner. He had been the one to find Terris, yes. But they hadn't exactly spoken much.

Though her fierce passion is unsettling, her energy is infectious and Annette finds herself grinning right back at Rage. To Terris, she shrugs, commenting, "We let them rename themselves. It didn't really matter. It's like a form of self-expression, I guess, especially since they can't exactly go buy new clothes right now. Names aren't that important really, as long as you help out."

She scrutinized Terris. His long white hair made it hard to tell his age. Usually, you expected to find such snowy hair on an aged grandfather, not a young man. "Yeah, I forgot to ask. How old are you? I was guessing 18-ish."

Annette was once again surprised by the sudden appearance of a recluse. "Hey Thomas! Up at last?" She was concerned for the guy actually. He was ... driven, so to speak. He just never seemed to care about his own wellbeing. She could already see the dark circles around his eyes and he wasn't even that close yet. "You eat anything yet?"

(( Oh, btw, I wasn't introducing Thomas, she was just mentioning him cause he found Terris. But okay. XD ))

((It kinda sounded like she was asking Thomas if HE knew Terris.))

Thomas paused for a moment before nodding. He didn't need Anette trying to force food on him. He was fine. The younger survivors could use the food more. Besides, he would bet an arm and a leg that if he really did die, he wouldn't be missed half as much as most of the other survivors. Thomas wasn't stupid. He knew that he wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with. He wouldn't be surprised if most people here despised him.

Angle stared at Thomas as if accusing him of lying, but she said nothing. After a moment, she just turned away from all the people again. She was in one of her rare calm moods. It was a nice change. Sometimes, she'd look like a trapped rabbit. Touch seemed to burn her, she'd shiver and shake like she was having a seizure, her pupils would dilate, and she would startle extremely easily. No one was really sure if she'd always been like that or if it was simply the stress from all the recent deaths that made her act that way. If it was stress related, though, today must have been a good day; she seemed bathed in tranquility.

Rage blushed slightly, trying not to react too obviously to the "helping out" part. She did help out, a lot! And she was trying to get some of the older members of the camp to teach her to fight. So she wasn't a slacker. She just didn't feel like doing dishes today. No big deal, right?

(( No, she was just asking Rage and Angel if THEY knew Thomas. ))

"Okay, good," she said with relief. Annette was glad that Thomas at least fed himself.

"So do you want to continue the tour now, Terris? You guys can come along too if you want," she told Rage and Angel. "Feel free to add comments on anything I say. I'm sure you have a whole different perspective on things," Annette said amusedly.

"And about what you were saying - " Annette started in a lower tone.

"Don't worry, I'll bring it up with Cyrus when he comes back from patrol," Marcos reassured her. Then he turned to Thomas. "Hey, so you're still signed up for guard duty this afternoon. If you don't feel up to it, we can switch you to something less stressful."

"Oh, by the way, Rage," said Inez with twinkling eyes. "Make sure you get around to washing those dishes, okay?" The thin woman sat back down and resumed spinning lazily in the old leather chair.

(( I'm kind of waiting for Stephen/Terris to reply right now. ))

Terris had fallen asleep again. He woke up being introduced to people and introduced himself to them and accepted the tour.

(YOU DID TOO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!, THIS IS WHAT I'M GOING TO SAY BECAUSE I AM NOT EVEN GOING TO TRY TO FIT SOMETHING INTO ALL OF THAT... THANK YOU)

(( Aww, come on. Really Stephen?!? One line? Wow ... Well, if you'd gone onto either of the forums in the past week, it would've been easier. Did you even read any of them? [suspiciously] At least show his views on the other characters. And at the VERY least, just respond to the last post, please. ))

((FINE MARTINI!!!!!!!!!!))
"Ummmm, sure Annette. Thank you for the offer," said Terris. He was kinda unsure about all of this, but he did know that it was good that no one did this or this . If anyone had, then Terris would have freaked; he was just a kid after all. He settled back and waited for the tour to contnue, wondering when he was going to get his chance to give the folders to the scientists.

(( I'm assuming some things that you didn't answer, okay? - _ - And I'm assuming Rage/Angel follow? ))

"Oh, you're 15? I thought you were older ..." Annette trailed off. "I guess it's because of your hair, and you're tall for your age anyways. So let's continue the tour." She wheeled Terris out of the lobby as Inez waved cheerfully and Marcos returned to his seat. Annette wondered if Rage and Angel were following, and looked behind to see.

Once outside, she pointed out the colonists' attempts at farming in the empty lot next to the hotel. It was surrounded by a tall metal fence. "We're not accomplished farmers, unfortunately," she said. "But we're trying! We found some library books about farming, and we got some more crop seeds from an old gardening store. They're really going to help, I think. There's not much else out here, except for a thicker and higher wall we're attempting to build." She pointed out the half-finished barricade to Terris.

She returned inside through the back door. "In here are the kitchens. The hotel one is kind of small, so the cooking team is a bit stretched to feed all of us. We don't have that much food anyways," she confessed. They walked past a portly woman stirring a stew over the stove who grunted at them as they passed by. At the sight of Rage and Angel she scowled.

"You two! You were supposed to wash these dishes this morning." She pointed at a pile of miscellaneous plates and bowls on the side of the counter. "Well it's too late now, I've already finished and starting cooking some soup for lunch. I'll need you back tomorrow." At that, she went back to stirring and took out a couple bowls. Once through the danger zone of the kitchen, Annette showed Terris an outdated map of the hotel hung up on the side of the hall next to the "Manager's Office."

"We call the Manager's Office the Mayor's Office now. It's where Cyrus does all his stuff, organizing the colony. We never really elected him as mayor, or anything, but it's what we call him now. He kind of took over when we first banded together, and he did a good job ordering everything until the world made sense again, so he's the de facto ruler here, I guess you could say. Mayor by default."

"Anyways, here's the map. There are 14 floors. The ground floor is the lobby, kitchens, and offices, like Command Central. The basement we use for storage: weapons, food, supplies, etc. The second floor has the hospital, where you woke up, the dining area, and a lounge where people usually just hang out. Floor 3 is the workshop, where we make things that we need, but can't find, and the library of books that we've been able to salvage from local libraries. If you ever need technical help, the workshop's where you need to go. They're smart people there! Floor 4 is the school, nursery, and training center, so you'll be spending a lot of time there. The fifth floor to the 14th floor is housing; that's where everyone lives. Floor 13 has been commandeered by the guards for 'surveillance purposes or something. It doesn't really matter. We've got tons of empty space in the hotel; it's more food that we need. Kind of an ominous floor number to choose, though," Annette joked. "But we didn't want them to have Floor 14, cause it's got the best rooms." She smiled at the thought.

"So Terris: Any questions? I know it must be confusing for you, but you'll get a hang of this place soon enough. We can go visit some more places if you want to. And then I'll show you to your room. Actually, I think you should room with Fletcher. He's my little brother, and you're both the same age, so I'm sure you'll get along fine. He can help you adjust!" Clearly, Annette was idealizing the situation here, but what else was she supposed to say? She had no idea how Fletcher would react to a roommate, but she wanted Terris to quickly adapt and fit in, and a roommate would probably make him feel like one of them.

(( So ... [awkwardly] respond to this and I'll respond to the Academy, Katherine! Stephen - just respond. >.< ))

((...damn you. Evil. >.<

This... has nothing to do with my characters...

Should I just go back to the scientists?))

Rage smiled sheepishly at the woman before rushing off after Anette. Angel simply ignored her, not even seeming to take notice that anyone had spoken.