Damien breathed out slowly as he collected himself and kept observing the hotel. that is untill he noticed Lana moving in. "what happened to reconnaissance mission?" he grumbled to himself." after she dropped a man Damien knew he now had to act to get his buddy out. if not security will only double if he has to go in later. pulling the bayonet from his rifle he left it along with his pack, only taking his ax, bayonet, and the two firearms strapped to his legs. moving slow and crouched Damien moved closer to the compound anytime a flashlight would wander his way he would drop behind what cover was available. pressing to the wall he checked the chamber of his 1911 before reholstering it and moving in.
Damien aproached the vehicles cautiously to see Lana over a dead body. "Lana.." he whispered to let her know he was behind her. he didn't care to bite it like this guy. rolling the body of the man closer to a car he began stuffing it under to conceal their presence for the time being. "i told you, as long as i get to see some violence i'm in. don't expect me to stay up there while you get to have fun." he said as he poked his head up to look for any nearby threats. "this is your show, whats the plan?"
Lana sort of separated herself from the group for a bit as they observed the buildings. She eyed the property through her scope, taking note of the wall they had at the back portion of the property, and the guards posted. She had moved herself to higher ground, blending in with some trees and darkness as she scanned, the lights that were on made it a lot easier to spot things in the courtyard and get oriented. And that's when she saw what she was looking for.
A red truck. She recognized it as theirs from the license plate and some of the decals that people had spray painted on it. It was a stupid practice in her opinion, but it seemed to have come to some use now. It confirmed that these people were responsible for the missing convoy after all. So when Damien said there were prisoners coming out of the main building, she swung her 110 BA that way to have a look. She squints a little bit to see their features, but she doesn't recognize any of them, however, she does take note of the tattooed man, having similar ones to their Viking comrade. [i Interesting.] Lana follows them through the scope to the building they were apparently keeping prisoners... But why would they keep prisoners? That just meant extra mouths to feed... Unless...
She goes back to viewing the stone wall, going up and down its length to find a way in. And it looked like the wall ended in the South West quadrant of the property, cut off short by the dense trees. Unless they wanted to climb the wall or go in through the front, it looked like that was their ticket in to this place.
[b “Target confirmed.”] She spoke quietly in to the radio. [b “South West, moving in.”] Lana swings the rifle on to her back, and begins moving, keeping herself low and fluid as she makes her way to the wall. This was part of the operation she had said she would do herself, the part where there was no obligation for them to stay, well, except for John. He knew to provide her with eyes on the outside in case she had company.
When Lana made it to the wall, she stopped for a second, trying to listen for movement on the wall and looking to see if she had been noticed. When she was sure she wasn't, she moves passed the wall and hides between two vehicles that seemed to have been placed there for her convenience. She takes another second to survey her surroundings again, taking note of the guards looking outside of the resort over the walls, and the spotty patrols in the courtyard. One particular bandit was close-by, and inconveniently in her way to the next bit of cover she wanted to advance to. He seemed fixed, so instead of waiting for him to move on, she makes a quiet yet indiscriminate noise. Was it a cat? A mouse? Undead? Well, she guessed he was going to find out because he began to walk curiously over.
When he got close enough, she sprung at him, one hand over his mouth, the other jerking his arm and guiding him and at the same time keeping his hand from touching the trigger on his rifle. At the same time, she swept his leg, using his own body weight to drive him to the ground between the cars with her. Knee in the ribs, hand over mouth, she quickly pulls her knife from her side and slams it in to his neck, killing the bandit before he even knew what happened. She lingers there for a moment, listening for any signs for alarm, and when there wasn't any, she prepares to move on.
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The walk down towards the town was serene and tranquil. Up in the mountains it was often like this with the far off sounds of those down in Whitefish the only notion that life still progressed. Without that it was simply silent. The path he had chosen was natural, wide and unobstructed. All around were pines and firs, thick tall trees that would weather this human made storm without a scratch. Birds fluttered from branch to branch and any woodland critter scattered the moment he came into sight. Humans were more dangerous than before and the wildlife knew to keep their distance.
It was a bitter day on the mountainside, cold gusts blowing up from down south. Pulling his thick coat in tighter around himself to try and beat out the worst of the cold he left his pistols free and easy to access. A trained eye caught the darkness building off in the distance and he jogged across to a lone boulder to gain a better view. Thick black clouds were rolling from the Flathead Lake and would take Columbia Falls before heading onto the border. Such storms were quite common and on any other day just a nuisance. But the rainfall they brought was always unknown. Sometimes it was a sprinkling of a few minutes, a quick wash and it was gone. Others it could rain for hours and the worst ones lasted a day or two continually. As such he was concerned about his home. If the water pooled on the roof or worse yet found its way inside, he could lose not just his warmth but his home, his defence. He would need a covering large enough to spread over the roof.
The time needed to head out and get back home had been shortened drastically as he judged it was a good four or five hours away at best. In his mind he judged the town to be too far. Quickly he made a decision to divert his path instead toward a neighbourhood up on the mountainside. The town was more for food and supply runs anyway, both of which he had good stock of. With the threat of the undead in town he would rather hit one or two homes up in the rolling hills. He had one house in mind anyway from his last trip out that way. Despite the cold gusts from the forefront of the storm, he made decent time, getting down in an hour and a half over some rough terrain.
The neighbourhood in question was remote off a long and winding mountain road and nestled deep amongst the forest. They were holiday homes but for the semi-rich; those who could not afford a place on Whitefish Lake but wanted a mountain retreat like Aspen. Large, spacious, quite comfortable for a family of ten though most were abandoned ten months of the year. They were set back from the single road in and out and though the grass was overgrown and the street covered in a layer of dead leaves, there were no corpses, car wrecks or demolished building to signify the worlds end. It was peaceful.
This was one of several dotted across the side of Big Mountain. These places were great for cherry picking miscellaneous items like clothing, bedding, tools and the like. Most had a can or two of food too, but it was rare. As he walked down the road it could be noted several houses sported black markings beside the door. They were put on by Thomas and had certain meanings. One line meant a sweep through had been made, less than an hour and very quick for what could be seen. Two lines and he had made a thorough check of drawers and cupboards – this could take an additional hour to two hours. Two lines and a star and he had placed items near to the entrance, this way if he was coming back empty from other homes he could stop to collect them and the journey would not be wasted. This consisted of extra clothes, another pair of boots, items for construction and cooking and so on. Finally if there was a circle around all of this then the house was empty and held no further interest.
This simple system was vital in saving time from searching houses he may not go near again for several weeks. It was a good means of him not wasting his energy too and allowed him to bypass multiple houses before coming upon one he had been leaving for a little while.
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This one was boarded up by the owners and quite ripe for the picking that day. The boards were not concerning to him as it was not uncommon for owners to do this. If they only came up the mountain once or twice a year then the boarded windows and doorways gave them an extra sense of security against burglars as well as unfortunate weather related damage. Quite sensible. The last thing you wanted on your first day up to your holiday home was dealing with a broken window, a ransacked house and a pile of fresh snow in your reception room.
However for Thomas, it meant safety in another reason. It meant no-one was inside. That meant no undead, no living, no wild or feral animals either. After a quick walk around the perimeter, something he did before any incursion into any property, he found no boards loose and none had been tampered with and replaced either. Back at the entrance he dropped down his bag and retrieved the crowbar. Taking a moment to look around the street for any surprise undead or watching living, he jammed it between the doorway and the board and began prying it away. The nails were a touch rusted, the wood a little soggy and rotten in places, meaning the board came off in pieces than one solid piece. It was a shame as it would have been very useful if he could have taken it.
With the board pried away he repeated action of leverage on the door itself, fitting the crowbar down close to the lock. With several strong pulls of the metal bar he snapped the locking mechanism, the door groaning as it swung inward and a dusty hallway became illuminated for the first time in a long while.
Retrieving a flashlight from his bag he kept the crowbar in his left hand, ready to swing at anything that may have hidden itself inside. Although he was quite sure of his safety it never hurt to remain vigilant. Moving through the house on his initial check of each room took him almost thirty minutes alone. In this world it was better to waste a day checking one house and coming back empty handed, than to rush through, get bitten or cut and die of the resulting infection. The margin of error was just so slim. With this slow approach he finished clearing the house and got to searching. Unfortunately with the heavy storm and likely torrential rainfall to come he would not be able to be thorough. He needed to get back and prepare his house but he couldn’t do that unless he found a big enough tarpaulin.
His search was quite fruitful in the end. He found a lot of spare parts such as batteries, matches and candles, a few boxes of nails along with a pristine toolset that would replace his makeshift odds and ends that he had gathered over the months as and when he needed another tool. But most importantly in his swift search he found a picture of a boat. This was quite significant as it was not of one on the water or floating at dock, but rather of an older man cleaning the boat on land, a soft cloth in hand and wide grin on his face. If he cleaned the boat so thoroughly and carefully then it stood to reason that the man would keep the boat covered. And there just happened to be a very large metallic shed in the back at the end of the driveway, large enough for say, a boat?
With his fast search over he headed back outside, making sure to take the can of spray from his bag and draw a solid line beside the door. He did his best to shut and tether the entrance shut, as if it was undone and open when he returned he would know something or someone had entered. It seemed a lot of Thomas’ life now revolved around precaution and planning for the future.
Moving around to side of the house he walked down the weed ridden driveway and toward the garage, leaning up to try looking through the dirty covered window on the garage door. Rubbing his sleeve on the dirty glass to brush away some of the grime, he again peered in and indeed there was a boat with a very large black cover over it. He repeated his actions from the house here; scout the perimeter for break in’s, use the crowbar to bust the door open, make a quick inspection of the building, though he was done in five or so minutes. Being a part workshop there were many items he would like to have back in his home and once he retrieved the desired covering from the impressive craft, along with a few lengths of rope to tie it down, he marked the garage door accordingly for his next trip back in the future.
By this time it was an hour or so past midday and he still had the walk back, uphill and with more weight on him than he had coming down. Eyeing the storm once more he could only be thankful he would reach home before the rain began. God help anyone out by Columbia Falls, no doubt it would last a long time up that way. A thought as to what was occurring in that direction was on his mind for a moment. Sometimes he found himself in wonder at how others were getting on in the world. He would think over just how close he had been to other survivors without either knowing of the other. Hopefully they kept away if they knew where he was. Turning away with his new haul packed away in his bag he made his way back for his house in silence, not a word uttered all day – again.
Sara looked up from the tasks she had set herself to busy herself when Lana spoke about what would happen if anything went wrong. Luckily, thanks to her photographic memory, she already had the rendezvous point memorised. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that though. They were prepared enough and hopefully skilled enough to deal with whatever came their way and she liked to think that the plan wouldn’t go south.
Sara’s lips twitched up into a smile as Lana swatted John’s hand away from the flask and checked her rifle before pulling her bag on her back. She could almost smell the alcohol from the flask and her nose twitched and her face screwed up in distaste for the stuff. She had never liked alcohol, especially the smell of it. It was then that she looked out of the window and she pulled her face again. Sara literally owned the clothes on her back and nothing else but there seemed to be a few things to choose from and she quickly pulled on something a little warmer than her ripped up, sleeveless t-shirt. She would likely get wet through but that was better than her skin being exposed to the elements. It wasn’t long before the crew were heading out to the jeep and making their way to their destination.
By this point it was raining hard and she knew that they were nearing the spot Lana had indicated on the map so she started to attach her ear piece and glanced around at the faces in the car. It wasn’t exactly enough people for a rescue mission but they would be prepared if that’s what it turned into. When the jeep stopped they loaded themselves off and made their way into the forest on Lana’s signal. Sara kept her rifle close and looked up at the way John moved skilfully through the forest.
When they came to a stop she took a moment to observe what Damien had stopped to see and noticed the way he tensed up. Sara narrowed her eyes and looked down at the seeming prisoners and then looked back towards Damien, noticing the similarity in a prisoner’s tattoo to this one. [b “Don’t blow the mission by making this personal. We will get him out when we rescue their team. Stick to the plan.”] she whispered softly, hoping that it didn’t sound uncaring but she knew all too well what could go wrong when a carefully planned mission was abandoned for an emotional response. That was how her partner died after all.
Damien took back his flask as he glared at the other male before taking the last swig of alcohol, though it was more like a gulp, before stowing the flask in his pack and heading out. in the jeep he enjoyed the sound of rain on the canvas top it reminded him of his days LARPing with his friends, they'd all sleep in period tents that they each made before their moch battles. when the jeep stopped damien snapped back to reality and climbed out of the vehicle and wired up his walkie and clipped it to his belt. throwing his camo pancho over himself and raising the hood he followed Lana into the forest. he didn't really need a flashlight as he kept his eyes on her silhouette.
making it to what Damien assumed was the observation point as he looked at the hotel. a twelve foot stone wall surrounded the property and guards patrolled sections of the wall with rifles. he started thinking back to midevil times and thought of the place as a castle. its defenses were great at keeping the dead and other invaders out. if damien could locate one of his companions home there was a chance of acquiring a bowling ball mortar and maybe even an old twelve pounder cannon to lay siege to the hotel. though unless asked he wouldnt put forth the idea at the risk of sounding stupid.
pulling off his pack, Damien rested it on a fallen log to keep it dry as he pulled out his spotting scope. laying down he crawled to the crest of the onlooking hill and started his observations. minutes passed by untill he seen movement other than the guards in the courtyard. "chain gang coming out of the main building," he reported over the radio as he watched six people with hands bound to the waist of the person infront of them. focussing his scope he eyes each individual, shirtless and only wearing sweatpants, untill he saw a face he might have known before. it wasnt untill the prisoners were being corralled into another building that Damien got confirmation on who he was looking at. a large tattoo on the back of the male provided this. he knew the tattoo because they had both gotten their back pieces at the same time. this infuriated Damien as he pounded his fist into the mud as a growl started in his throat.
While John had been talking, Lana was already putting some more things in her pack. She was already familiar with the plan, so she didn't really have to listen. So, strapped to her shoulder she had her 110 BA, with a telescopic scope, obviously. On her side was a SIG Pro, and on the other side was her tactical knife and hatchet. It was a pretty standard load-out for her, and at the moment she was packing on the basis that she wasn't going in to kill everyone, if she was she'd switch out for an assault rifle... Maybe she should.
When all was said and done, it seemed like everyone was on the same page. It wasn't an overly complicated mission, more so just to scout and see if there was any evidence that these people had anything to do with the disappearance of her crew. And from what she's heard about them from some of the others, it [i had] to be them. John might be doubtful about this whole thing, but people being trash was new to him, it wasn't new to her. She's seen all sort of atrocities before the world made everyone desperate and cruel.
As Damien inquired about the if the plan got rocky, she quietly took the offered flask from him and took a swig. Her eyebrow quirks up again and she takes another swig. [b “You try to make it to one of the rendezvous points on the map.”] Lana tells him and Sara, swatting John's hand away as he reached for the flask.
[+red “Hopefully this goes just as planned: we look and we leave.”] John adds, and as he does, lightning strikes in the background followed by thunder. [+red “It looks like its going to be raining for a while. Everyone please dress accordingly.”] Because a cold was what they should be worrying about right now. But to be fair, colds nowadays could be the end of ones life. However, instead of looking at the rain as a nuisance, the low visibility could easily be used to their advantage and the droplets would cover up the sound of their approach. Not to mention, if you were lucky enough or good enough, you could time a shot with thunder.
It was about time to leave anyways, and Lana leads them out of the house. She makes a quick detour, finding Ben and telling him to grab some people and go find suitable places for the supplies in the stable. She went after him specifically to keep him busy so he didn't try to do something stupid like follow them. So, on that note, she quickly corrals everyone in to a jeep and they're on their way towards Columbia Falls.
They parked just outside of the resort, close to the trees and off the road. It was broodingly dark, especially considering the rain, and for the most part they were alone out here. They couldn't even see the light from the resort yet. However, she wouldn't be comfortable using a flashlight until they got inside the forest, but they'd have to kill the lights pretty soon as they got closer to the resort. Other than that, especially because of the rain she wasn't particularly worried about being spotted; she dressed for the operation. She wore tight black pants, a black long sleeve with a black and grey jacket over top. She was also wearing tactical vest and a grey hooded scarf which she places over her head once out in the rain.
She quickly looks back at her crew, making a very big show of putting her ear piece in her ear, and then takes the first step in to the forest, signalling that their mission has begun.
There wasn’t much else to their conversation for Lana had returned with the Viking in toe. Apparently she had asked him if he would like to lend a hand too. That much she could understand. He had a good build and was clear skilful in his own way. What she did not understand is why he appeared to have no shirt on. Sara looked away the moment she saw the bare skin, not prepared to see a half naked man. She cleared her throat and focused on the weapon John had handed to her and decided to inspect every crevasse of the body of her rifle rather than the body of a stranger. That was until Lana moved towards the map and started to explain their mission.
The area was one she was unfamiliar with, not having travelled this far before but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a quick study. Her eyes scanned the map and she committed the plans to memory so she would know where she was going when the time came. Lana seemed so confident that her convoy was still alive that it showed Sara that she wasn’t an emotionless as she liked to let people believe. Then John moved and started to add to the information. John seemed much more unsure about the operation but they would still be going regardless. Seeing him from this angle she could see his features much more clearly. She could tell that this new world had tired him but that did not take away from the fact he was still handsome.
She had to pull her eyes away from
him when that thought crossed her mind, not wanting him to see the potential blush of her cheeks. Instead she focuses on the bags and nodded when he suggested that they should look through it. It had been a long time since Sara had any gear of her own so she was sure that she might act far more excited than intended. She shook her head when Lana asked if they had any questions. The plan was clear enough and she understood what was required of them but the Viking seemed to want to know what would happen if the plan failed.
Sara moved toward the bags, glancing towards John before she started to get her gear together, putting an earpiece in her ear and testing the walkie. It was impressive that they had so much equipment but with an encampment this big it made sense.
Damien shook his head when Lana asked if there were any questions. instead he grabbed a pack and opened it up. taking the maps, walkie, spotters scope, and MREs. he also walked to one of the crates containing ammo and grabbed a box of shotgun shells and .45ACP rounds. setting his guns on the table along with four spare magazines for his 1911 he started loading the empty weapons and slid a total of nine additional shells into his pockets for his shotgun. the rest of the ammo boxes and his gear ended up being packed into the tactical looking bag he was offered.
moving to his shirt he found it now dry and did the courtesy of making himself decent for everyone else. as he pulled his shirt over his head everyone in the room could see the tattoo on his back of a valkyrie maiden hovering over a dead soldier with its wings spread wide across his shoulders. as his lats and deltoids moved under his skin the wings of the valkyrie would look as though they were fluttering before the black death crew shirt covered the artwork. Damien removed a glass flask from his pack and took a swig of the same honey mead from before. offering it to Lana he said, "riddle me this... whats our fall back plan if things get dicey?"
Lana walks in to the room with Damien in tow, and it seems they interrupted a conversation the two were having. She just got the tail end of it, Sara saying she was part of the police force before the end of the world. She thought it might be something like that considering how she handled a gun. It seemed Damien and John were similar in regards to firearms considering the Norseman reenactor admitted he needed training. She lets out a impatient sigh when she sees he still didn't put his shirt on and rolls her eyes at his silent apology. Whatever. She'd just have to keep herself from being distracted.
In keeping with the time and how she wanted this to go, Lana steps from the group and moves to the wall with the map. She places her finger near the red pin in Columbia Falls. [b “Meadow Lake Resort. For a while our encampment has avoided the area because we've heard of ruthless bandits.”] She tells them. Some of the people in their encampment have spoken about them, and although Lana doesn't normally shy away from a fight, she's had them avoid it for the safety of the others. [b “Forty-eight hours ago we lost contact with a convoy who had been scavenging in Columbia Falls. I'd think they were dead, but the way we operate it would've been very improbable that four out of four people didn't send an SOS over the radio.”] Lana then motions towards John who moves from the table he was leaning on. He was the one who was able to dig up the information on the resort.
[+red “There are a few buildings on the property, so its hard to say where our people could be held, [i if] they're even there in the first place,”] That earned a hard stare from Lana, but John continued. [+red “So we should avoid going in guns ablazing. Its just the four of us, so they'll have us out manned and more than likely out gunned too.”]
[b “Its strictly a reconnaissance mission for now.”] Lana takes over. [b “To avoid needless bloodshed. But if we do find evidence of our people there, I will do what I can to pull them out. What I need from you is an extra set of eyes and ears because we have a lot of ground to cover. [i When] we find them,”] There's a heavy glance in John's direction. [b “You are no longer obligated to help me try and pull them out, because at that point, I'm going to make it personal.”]
John pats Lana on the shoulder and then addresses the other two again. [+red “We'll keep it as quiet as possible for as long as possible, that's why its just the four of us. We'll leave in a few minutes to get there before the sun goes down, but for now we'll get you equipped with some gear.”] An assortment of rifles and pistols were on one of the tables, under them being four backpacks that were already packed. John glances at Damien. [+red “Unless you have your own gear, of course. However, I would suggest going through one of the bags anyways, there's some things you'll want like a walkie-talkie, an earpiece for it, a map with various rendezvous points marked on them in case you get separated, MREs, and few other things for fun and entertainment.”]
[b “Any questions?”] Lana asks, seemingly already ready to go.
John certainly had a different approach with people than Lana did. His done was much politer but she was sure that he ran things just as well around here. Sara had come across a fair few people who assumed that emotions needed to be put aside if they were going to be any kind of leader but she was sure that Lana’s motivations were different. She didn’t ponder the thought for long but something with her told her that Lana was not always like this, that once upon a time she would have been a lot easier to get along with.
Sara watched as the man before her slapped his hand against his forehead and she found herself laughing at his gesture. It was as though he was chastising himself for not introducing himself straight away, like he had forgotten that was usually the polite thing to do. It didn’t matter to her that he had because she was sure that many people had lost the tradition of shaking hands and introducing themselves. A lot of the people she came across were more interested in what you owned and how useful you might be to their cause, a loner like Sara did not appear to be much use to anyone. Perhaps that is why she was sporting a wound on her stomach. However, she was not one to linger on the past, that was behind her now and with Lana’s help she would now heal up quickly.
Sara’s lips turned up into a smile when he finally removed her hand from his forehead and met hers with his own, introducing himself as John. Soon enough his hand was replaced with the rifle and her eyes moved along the machine with such glee that she was sure she must have looked far to excited to be holding such a weapon but it had been at least a year since she had held a rifle.
[b “Not military but the training is similar I guess. I was on the police force, you know when humans commit crimes and someone would do something about it.”]
Damien recoiled when.she laughed before smiling to himself. every moment he's spent with her she was always stoic and sonefaced. for a moment he felt himself fond of this woman when she let out a girlish laugh. it could be his lack of companionship over the past few years that caused these feelings in him so he discredited them immediately. he watched as she inspected the cart and move about the stables. when she left he quickly rushed to his pack and stapped his rifle, shield, ax and sword to the sides and face of his pack the other two firearms were a 1911 longslide with a green laser scope making it look like the one used in the dirst terminator and a chiappa tripple threat shotgun, a break action tripple barrel that had the barrels and stock cut down to make a sawed off shotgun. these had leather drop leg holsters which he put on.
shouldering his pack and throwing on his poncho he snatched down his shirt which was still damp as he tucked it under his poncho. running to catch up as his boots slapped the muddy ground untill he caught up. following her he said very little that could be one of the few things that the two had in common he spoke little and payed attention to alot. when they had reached thair destination he noticed the other woman and, as far as Damien was concerned, the boy from earlier. taking off his poncho he set it next to the door along with his pack before spreading his shirt over a closed weapons crate so it could finish drying. looking at Lana he shrugged as an apology, he had only one shirt with him at the moment and it was still drying. leaning forward he rested his palms on the table in the center of the room as he waited for Lana to give details about what he was going to be doing.
Lana stood there as she listened to Northman's demands, and at the end, she couldn't help but laugh. It was a little higher pitched than her talking voice, almost girlish. She wasn't laughing [i at] him nor did it sound insulting, but it seemed the way he was demanding thins struck one of her funny bones. In all honesty, she wasn't used to people talking to her like that these days, usually it was the other way around. It was refreshing in a surprising and amusing way.
She stands with him closer to the lantern, taking the offered jug. Lana takes a sip, an eyebrow quirks up, and she takes another sip. He was right on the mark with why she was approaching him about the operation. It was absolutely dangerous and there were very select few people she could involve or afford to involve. Now she had by chance met two capable people, so she couldn't sit on her hands and pass up a chance like this. There was nothing up to chance these days, but she would take any luck she could if offered.
[b “You guess right.”] She says and trades grips with the man. [b “Lana.”] She offers before moving passed him towards the cart. It was down to business again as she looked over its contents. It did seem like he had a lot to offer, and that his demands were relatively reasonable, especially since he was going to put his life on the line for an encampment he just came in to contact with a few hours ago. She hums at all the weapons and animals in the cart while taking another swig of the tasty drink. She felt inclined to give Damien a hard time, but he already proved to be quite beneficial to have around. So instead, she looked thoughtfully at one of the goats before turning back to Damien, leaning on the cart.
Nodding a little off to the side, she says. [b “You have yourself a deal.”] Lana then approaches him, handing him back the jug and walks towards the door, stopping just short of leaving. [b “We leave in a few hours, so if you'd follow me we'll have you briefed.”] She looks over her shoulder at him, some kind of glint in her eye. [b “And put a fucking shirt on.”] And with that, she leaves the stable and expected Damien to do the same.
John seemed slightly surprised when Sara said she was more a rifle kind of person. But instead of pressing, he pulls out what appears to be a bolt action rifle from one of the crates and turns towards the woman. He was about to hand it to her, but she introduced herself to him, holding out her hand. With his free hand John slaps himself in the forehead.
He was so used to just moving and keeping thins together, he had forgotten his manners. At the start of all of this, he would've remembered, but after all this time he had let it slip. He knew the world had changed and therefore they should with it, but he was a firm believer in keeping with certain traditions of the old world. How could they be any better than the monsters if they no longer communicated with each other?
[+red “Where are my manners today?”] He says and then takes the woman's hand and shakes it firmly. [+red “The name is John. I help run the show around here with Lana, but don't tell her I said that.”] John then hands her the rifle. It was weird how much Sara reminded him of Lana back when the apocalypse first started... Well, Sara already beat her out in the 'nice' department, but both of them were disciplined and had an affinity for rifles. So John had to ask. [+red “Were you military? Before all this, I mean.”]
Yet again, Lana proved that she was all about business with the way she simply nodded her head before moving from in front of her. It was evident that she had no intention of discussing it further other than the indication of when they would be leaving. Sara didn’t expect anything less. It made sense that the woman would want to rescue her convoy sooner rather than later and she had already agreed to help, no matter when they were leaving. The sooner she got this over with the sooner she could get back to whatever she planned on doing next. It was still strange for her to get used to living day-to-day, especially when she had been so used to living her life to a schedule when she was on the force. Perhaps it was something she would never get used to.
Sara looked over towards the window as Lana did and noticed the darkening of the sky. Apparently their trip would be accompanied with stormy weather. As if a rescue mission was not going to be exciting enough. It was then that movement caused her eye-line to move and look towards the male figure who now graced their presence. Perhaps he was someone important here, someone Lana trusted but she was sure she wouldn’t be around long enough for her to figure out too much of that. She raised her hand and waved it to the left in a single motion as he looked around the room. This new world had clearly taken its toll on the man but he had seemingly adapted and he moved and spoke with confidence.
Apparently their Viking friend had returned with supplies and that would mean that Lana would be leaving to do her own thing now, leaving her to get aquatinted with John. The moment she left he seemed to excuse her personality for her. It wasn’t the first time someone had done that today and for that reason she chuckled to herself quietly. She rose from the chair she had been sitting in and moved towards him looking over the weapons.
[b “Im definitely a rifle kind of gal.”] She did not even hesitated at the choice she was being offered. Sara looked up towards John and held out her hand in greeting, hoping to shake his. It seemed like a trivial thing to do amongst the chaos but anything that kept them human was worth doing. [b “I’m Sara. I didn’t catch your name. Seems if we are going to be going on a mission together I should at least know your name.”]
Damien hadn't realized the woman had came in untill she spoke, this caused him great embarrassment as he cleared his throat and rubbed his mouth to hide the redness in his cheeks. dropping his hand to speak he said, "yeah no problem, but i want to make it clear this isnt just for the lift out of that mess. the colt, she's mine. i also need her sadle and fifty pounds of feed. oh, also marksmanship lessons later on. i know the function of my weapons, my father taught me that much but beyond a hundred yards i can barely kill a human much less a zombie." thinking about it Damien retrived his belongings from the cart, his pack, three guns, a sword, ax, and his riot shield. "you can have everything but the cart itself."
Damien pulled out the jug of mead from the cart and uncorked it to take a swig before offering it to the woman. "this operation..." he started before a shiver went through him making him move back to the lantern for some warmth. "im guessing its dangerous and your playing it close to the vest with your people to involve me." sliding his thumbs into the waistband of his pants he smiled at the woman. "if there's fighting involved you can count me in." he said, holding out his hand, "my name's Damien, norseman reenactor and occupational viking. skills involve mid-evil combat and siege warfare, smithing, wood working, leather working, foraging and tracking."
Because of how minuscule it was, it might be Sara's imagination, but the corner of Lana's mouth might've quirked up slightly. She nods her head at the other woman and stands up, feeling slightly relieved that they would have someone who had more than a civilian skill set other than herself on the team. If Sara had said no or needed time to think it over, it would've just been Lana and John. There was a time limit to this after all, and waiting forty-eight hours might've already cost them some lives.
[b “We leave at nightfall.”] And looking outside the window, seeing the dark clouds and rain, it seemed nightfall was going to be coming sooner than anticipated, especially since the sun was setting earlier this time of year anyways. It gave her very little time to assemble her ideal team, but they would make do.
However, coming in through the heavy door comes John. [i Finally.] He was a man in his mid to late thirties, with a working man's build, dark hair, and a beard. Despite not having any training higher than civilian level before the apocalypse, he was adequate with a gun, enough so that Lana had him in charge of their watch towers and would-be guards. He was almost her second in command.
He takes a quick glance at the room. [+red “Sorry to interrupt, but I was just told by Bill that some guy with a horse came in with supplies. Goats and chickens and stuff. He said to tell you he was here.”] Again, the barely noticeable curve at the corner of her mouth. It seemed like Northman had showed up just in the nick of time and for her to see if he was willing to lend her his hands. They could use someone like him on this mission, and he was also from the outside. Not to mention he brought them more supplies, and there wasn't such thing as 'too many' of those these days.
Lana looks at John and then nods her head towards Sara. [+red “Oh, is she coming with us tonight?”] He asks, and Lana hums an affirmative in response, beginning to walk past him to meet with Northman. It seemed like he was about to ask another question, but Lana quickly leaves the room. Time was of the essence.
[+red “Don't mind Lana, she has her own way of doing things sometimes.”] John tells Sara, moving deeper in to the room, more so towards one of the crates with firearms in them. [+red “Are you more of a pistol or rifle kind of gal?”] He asks as he places a brochure down from the resort. They didn't have google to tell them about it, so they had to make due with the old fashioned way. Lots of the information in the brochure about it, Meadow Lake Resort, wasn't relevant anymore, but it gave them a bit of a floor plan.
Meanwhile, Lana was walking out through the would-be streets and quickly comes upon the stable. The rain was really coming down, and she was glad she was wearing a weather proof jacket and vest. She could feel the moisture underneath though, and before they left she'd have to change in to something with a hood for the rain. The doors to the stable had been closed but she could see what appeared to be a light from a lantern coming through.
She swings open the door and steps in to see Northman. He wasn't wearing a shirt, giving Lana a full view of his impressive physique. She did her best not to admire the definition of his muscles as she approached him, and was glad it was cold out because she could suddenly feel more heat in her face. Her face was still the same though, stony and reserved. It didn't even move when she finally was able to take notice of the cart that he had brought with him, full of supplies. Her eyes peel from that and back to the man's face, and only his face which felt straining. Her hands were firmly on her hips.
[b “Appreciate the help.”] She says in regards to the cart. This easily evened the score in her eyes, so asking him to do some dirty work for her would probably cost her. But Lana didn't mind owing one person a favour. [b “I need an extra body for an operation tonight. Interested?”] Lana would give him the specifics if he was interested, and even then he was free to walk away from the matter. She was sure the three of them could handle the resort on their own, but having an extra pair of hands would be a great help.
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