Old Farm House

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Thu Nov 25, 2010 1:41 am

Rockwell had been wandering on the outskirts of town for a couple of days now - encountering a zombie here or there. But, that was a rarity for him and he was pleasantly surprised by it. The tall grass swished with every step he made, the grass bending underneath the weight of his feet. His eyes scanning the horizon for anything he could use as shelter or to ransack. It didn't take long until he spotted a house off in the distance. His eyes lit up as he quickened his pace towards the house. Obviously it was abandoned and it looked sturdy enough to be a shelter if need be.

Within ten minutes, he approached the rundown farmhouse and approached the front door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and attempted to open it. It wouldn't budge. After muttering a few obscenities, he let go of the doorknob, took a few steps back and lifted up his right foot. He was going to open the door the hard way. With a grunt, he kicked at the door three times before it popped open. Letting out a sigh as he placed his foot down, he opened up the door and stepped inside. His hand immediately went to his .45 and gripped onto the handle of the gun, his knuckles bone white.

"Come out, come out...wherever the fuck you are..." he announced to the inside of the house in a singsong voice, moving ever so slowly towards the kitchen of the house.

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One by one the small horde fell as a figure whipped about them; her speed blurred as only the steel of a blade could be seen glinting under the sunlight. As the last head rolled to the side, the female jerked her chin up, causing her silken onyx locks to flutter up and over her shoulders.

"Shit..." She murmured as she straightened her form, each muscle relaxing from this rather easy battle the genetically enhanced soldier participated in. She were adorned in a skin tight leather jacket and fingerless leather gloves, her black cargo pants were tucked into knee high combat boots. Her extensive weaponry easily displayed upon her person.

Why the group hadn't responded to her radio correspondence she hadn't a clue, but she knew that she were not alone; she could sense something moving not more than a click from where she was located. By the sensation and vibration of the energy about her she knew it were a live being; but it didn't mean that it were not infected.

Ryder glided the the bloodied blade against a piece of cloth before sheathing in it's humble abode upon her back. Quickly she unholstered her gun as she eased her way up the hill; her sapphire orbs ready for anything that might come her way.

She lifted the gun at a perfect angle towards the Male as her eyes flickered about her surroundings; making sure that there were not more than just he. The last thing she needed was to run into a convoy of thugs, which seemed to be all that city had to offer for as survivors.

The female lifted her chin as she released a whistle to capture his attention; the one thing she learned about these zombies were that they were attracted to anything that seemed to be of noise or human voices. So a simple chirp like whistle, was by far the safest way of grabbing someone's attention without making them scream in a startled state.

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Thu Nov 25, 2010 2:20 am

He stopped frozen in his tracks. He heard a whistle. Within a blink of an eye, Rockwell withdrew his gun, clicked the safety off and had his index finger on the trigger. He wasn't taking any chances at this point. His chocolate brown eyes wandered about the kitchen, not finding the source of the whistle. His muscles tensed up as he slowly turned on his heels and headed out of the kitchen. He made a mental note to thoroughly check every room in this building and take out whatever was in the house. He lowered his gun down in front of him, hesitating to grab his Buck knife as well just in case he needed it if he ever ran out of ammo.

“A whistle? C’mon! Is that the best you can do, zombie? I know zombies can do more than just that!” he spoke once more to what seemed to be himself at the moment.

The floorboards creaked underneath his feet as he continued to sweep the other rooms on the lower level of the farmhouse. His steps took him to the base of the steps leading upstairs. Rockwell took a few deep breaths to ready himself before making the ominous trek up the stairs. Each step creaked loudly as he walked up the stairs, silently cursing himself and the house for being too damn loud. Once he reached the top of the stairs, a few doors were closed and the rest were open. His head turned towards the nearest open door as he trudged inside the room, the grip on his gun tightening even more than before.

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Was that man truly trying to hold a conversation with a supposed undead? Ryder asked herself with a quizzical and boggled expression creeping over her flawless features. The female shifted her aim from left to right as she edged up the rickety stairs that led to the tathered front porch of the old farm house.

This man had to have been out of his mind, for he so willingly announced his present to anything or anyone within ear shot of the place. The rotten wood splintered under her footfalls and she stopped only to curse at herself in her own head; peering about the corner quickly she soon shimmied her way inside as she followed the sounds of the male.

Ryder soon caught sight of him as she aimed the gun directly for his head, "Since when do zombies whistle?" She asked with a lofted brow, obviously thinking the man had absolutely no common sense whatsoever.

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Thu Nov 25, 2010 9:56 pm

The silence around Rockwell was broken before he could pass through the threshold. It was a voice. Obviously, it wasn't a zombie as she questioned him. He quickly turned on his heels towards the voice, his finger getting ever so closely to pulling that trigger. The barrel of his gun was soon pointed at the right temple of what seemed to be a woman. He looked her up and down a couple of times, hesitant to step forward toward her.

"In this day and age, you never know...," he replied to her with a smirk crossing his face, "now. Why don't you be a good little girl and put the gun down. Let the big boys play, hm?" he cantered his head to the side.

He had contemplated just turning around and continuing his sweep through the farmhouse to see if he could find anything he could work with that he could use in the future. But he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that wouldn't be such a good idea. The smirk soon faded from his lips as he kept his aim steady at her right temple, not hesitating to pull the trigger if she said or did anything to piss him off.

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Be a good girl? Did this guy just step out of some cheesy 1950's family show that they catch ever so often when a satellite passes by just right? Ryder snorted at his rather chauvinistic remark and kept her weapon at the ready, "Honey, I am more than you can ever dream of being..." She replied smoothly as she glanced through the open door at her side that led to the cellar.

"How about you let us younger generations take care of things..." The Female smiled sweetly as she provided a playful wink. "Wouldn't want a ruin such as yourself to break his hip." The psychic energy vibrated around her as she glanced down to the cellar once more; clicking sounds followed by a loud skittering sound could be heard.

Oh no. Not a zombie this round. "Shit..." She hissed as she turned her aim from the barrel to aim down the stairs. Her pupils dialated as her honed and heightened vision began to adjust the pitch black abyss that was the basement. The tattoo under her right wrist clearly visible to the naked eye as she didn't even bother to look at the Man.

"You should stay here...we have an unfriendly that I doubt you're used to dealing with, Gramps." She replied as the shadow of Experiment 0012's shadow etched just about the bit of light that shone about the room from a tiny crack in a dusty window. Fuck. This was not what she was expecting to find in the outskirts.

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Fri Nov 26, 2010 1:28 am

His eyes narrowed at the woman from her remarks. He didn't like being called old, though he is in his early forties. Lowering his gun once the woman turned away from him, he put his .45 away and reached behind his back, grabbing his 12 gauge shotgun. With a flick of his right wrist, he opened up the chamber and emptied out the used shells. They made a light clink as they hit the wooden floor. His subconscious told him to follow this woman for some odd reason. With a shake of his head, he reached into his pockets, pulling out fresh shotgun shells, loading the chambers. With another flick of his wrist, he closed up the chamber before gripping onto the shotgun, pumping it just in case something happened.

"I may be 'old' to you, but trust me...I am much wiser than you. Book wise and street wise." he spat out in response.

Goddamn, did he hate the younger generation and their disrespect towards their elders. He despised it.

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"Really...you're trained and bred to take down creatures like Experiment 0012?" She asked with an incredulous expression upon her face. Ryder shook her head as she reached into the pack at her side, pulling out a flash grenade.

"Drop your socks and grab your crotch.." The woman replied as wryly as she pulled the pin and tossed the cannister down into the basement. A flash went off as she turned her head completely away from it; blocking the blinding light from her vision.

The creature released a blood curdling screach as it slammed against the far wall, knocking down a shelf that had glass upon it of some sort. With a shattering noise following Ryder lept down at least three steps before heaving her body seemlessly over the side of the railing. She landed perfectly upon her feet as her finger pressed against the trigger, releasing four shots.

One shot lodged into it's shoulder as the others took hold in it's chest; it screeched again as it rushed her form in a near blue. Each of it's legs propelling it forward as it knocked her gun out of her hand; swiping it's arm down as it lifted her off of the ground and slamming her into the far wall.

Oof. Was the only sound following, a bit of the foundation crackled under the impact as she laid there for second, a bit discombobulated. Her mind spun as she rose to her feet; the creature rushed her once again with it's jaws completely opened as it meant to make her it's next meal. Ryder was obviously pissed off now; she jammed her left hand forward into the creature's jaw, snapping it into splinters as she ripped it's jaw away from it's face.

The creature create gripped it's head as it skittered backwards; writhing in pain as the female sauntered over to her fallen gun, plucking it from the dusty cold floors. Quickly she lifted aiming the barrel one handed at it's forehead. "Checkmate, Charlotte." She replied as she pulled the trigger. A flash glowed from the gun as the bullet darted forward, piercing the creature's forehead as it slumped down on it's leg, lifeless and void of anything else.

Ryder lifted her hand as she swiped at the blood from her lip; her head also bleeding from the hit she just took. "As I said...if I am aching from that thing? Your hip would be shattered."

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Fri Nov 26, 2010 1:49 pm

Rockwell grunted out of frustration as she spoke to him. Just who in the hell does she think she is? Jesus? Leaning over the banister at the top of the stairs, she watched her enter the cellar and heard some god awful noises coming from the cellar. It appeared that she had control of whatever was discovered down in that cellar.

"I'll teach that ungrateful bitch a lesson..."he muttered to himself as the noises continued.

He suddenly dropped down onto the floor on the left side of his body, laying his shotgun down next to him. This was going to work out perfectly for him. He clutched his right hip and began to moan and groan in pain once the noises stopped.

"Oh, my hip! Goddammit! I think I broke my hip! Anyone want to help an old man out?," Rockwell called out to the girl, hoping that she would come to his aid, "person with the vagina! I need medical attention! Please?" he scrunched up his face as if he were in immense pain from the injury.

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Ryder emptied the magazine from her gun as she snapped a fresh clip with expert precision as she made her way towards the stair. Unhumanly bright sapphire orbs flickered over the Male as he began to groan in pain, was he fucking kidding her? The female shrugged as she continued her present course.

"I'm sure you hobble your way back to the nursing home, Gramps.." She replied completely amused by his present situation. Upon stopping at the edge of the stairs she pivoted to the side as she rested her right forearm against the banister; her head cocking to the side as she clucked her tongue. "Or perhaps the cemetery? How about I just go and dig your grave?" Ryder chuckled, damn did she just crack herself up.

The female released a sigh as she shook her head, "No...I guess that ain't gonna be a good idea either." She swiveled her head with a bit of attitude as she slid her gun back into it's holster, stepping over the legs of the giant arachnid as she made her way towards the male. "I guess this youngin' will be carrying your ass out of here."

Ryder lowered her hand towards the old man as she offered her services; a bit begrudgingly at that. No matter how much attitude she may have, she still couldn't leave a man behind, even if he were not part of her unit.

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Sat Nov 27, 2010 8:13 pm

Rockwell drew in a sharp breath before he spoke to the woman.

"Oh, thank God you came to help me out! There was a creature in that room over there," he pointed in a random direction before continuing, "this thing was huge. And I mean huge! Anyway, it came running at me. I didn't know what to do! So, as soon as I turned around to run away from it, I fell and broke my hip. That's what I get for being old." he told her, snapping his fingers while shaking his head.

He couldn't help but weakly smile as she approached him. He slid his hand towards his Buck knife as she reached down to help him out. But, he had other plans. Within a blink of an eye, he withdrew his knife and swung it around her feet, stopping inches away from her Achilles tendon. Shaking his head, he swung his legs around and got up off the floor - the knife following the curves of her body, careful not to cut her just yet.

"Not very smart, now are you? It seems that I'm in better shape than being old, as you put it..." his voice trailed off as a wicked grin graced upon his lips. He brought his knife around in front of her, the blade just two inches from her neck.

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Ryder's telepathic abilities quickly caught the Male's train of thought; what seemed to be quick and fast movement to him? Was nothing more than a snails pace as her hawk like vision broke down his each movement of his blade into jerking clicks. As if a film being edited bit by bit into smaller frames.

As his blade remained near the flesh of her neck she cocked her head to the side as she narrowed an eye. "Impressive....but you failed to notice one thing, Gramps?" Ryder wriggled her right wrist as she showed off her tattoo upon her skin.

"I am not some ordinary little girl.." She smirked as her left hand moved at a blurring speed, gripping his forearm roughly; her enhanced strength making it where it were locked in place. She continued the movement as she kept his arm straight, twisting it to the side as her fingers pressed against the nerves that would leave his hand immobilized, therefore dropping the knife. Her right hand slammed forward to grip his neck as her right leg swept forward and curved to the right, whipping against the back of his knees in order to make him buckle.

Ryder was not trying to kill nor cause an actual brawl with the male, but right now? She wasn't about to let Old Father Time have the best of her. Fuck. If a genetically enhanced soldier can take down the hybrids single handedly, it would be a sad sight to see one taken down by a mere a human.

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Sat Nov 27, 2010 8:45 pm

It all seemed too quick for Rockwell as within seconds, the clank of his knife hit the floor. Following after that, he was shoved up against the wall and down on his knees. He silently questioned why this woman would show him a tattoo on her wrist. Big fuckin' deal. He snorted as he attempted to look up towards her.

"I take it you don't have a sense of humor, hm?" he managed to ask her as he coughed and winced from the immense pain that soared through his body.

He didn't cry out or just cry in general. He was brought up not to cry - no matter what the circumstances are. He grunted out loud as he attempted to get up. But, it was no use. His weight buckled underneath him as he was still held tight by this woman. He slowly turned his head back towards the wall before he just began banging his head into the wall. Of course, it was out of anger and something for him to do to keep his mind off of the pain.

"You think you can let me go now? I really don't want to get a concussion from all of this banging, toots." he smiled as he hit his head on the walls a couple more times, cursing to himself for leaving himself vulnerable.

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Ryder held the male in place for a few seconds more before constricting her grip upon his arm. "Next time, don't go against a product of the HGP." The Female smirked with a cocky swagger as she released him from her grasp.

Stepping away from the Male she unholstered her gun once more as she quickly made her way up the stairs; her barrel aimed at an angle towards the ground as she pushed her senses outward. So far nothing had attracted her 'spidey senses' so she figured they were in the clear for the time being.

"Shit..." She replied as she now stood at the top of the stairs, nightfall had already befallen them and she knew that there were no chance in Hell that they would be able to make it through the city without running into more of the arachnids.

"Well, Old Timer...it looks like we will be camping out." Ryder called down to the male as her pupils dilated, deducing where the safest point of a make shit camp site would be. "Great..." She muttered under her breath as she holstered her gun once more. Looks like she would be spending the night with a Man twenty times her senior.

"You better not try to make any moves on me..." Ryder snorted as she stepped outside of the farmhouse, the fresh air of the country side quickly filling her lungs. Now, to find kinneling and wood, and get a fire started. This time of the year the weather could drop to near freezing during the night, and she was not about to warm her body next to the Old Man.

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Sun Nov 28, 2010 12:00 am

"Oh, trust me. I wouldn't be putting any moves on you for two simple reasons. One: You're too young for me. Two: I haven't bought you a drink yet." he explained to her as he flashed a grin at her, wiggling his eyebrows.

Once he stopped with his shenanigans, he noticed that it was starting to get dark out. He shrugged his shoulders as he didn't mind the nighttime. Hell, he's survived this long and he was sure another night wouldn't kill him. As he descended the stairs, he wondered to himself what the woman meant by "HGP". He had never heard it before. Maybe it was some sort of petty street gang that he had heard nothing about. Or the name of a convoy of survivors hunting the zombies. Once he reached the bottom of the steps, he glanced over to the empty front room, noting that there were a few pieces of furniture in there - a couch, love seat and an armchair. With a sigh, he reached into the pockets of his jeans and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, putting one into his mouth - thankful that he at least stocked up on them before all of this shit happened. He reached into his pockets once more and pulled out the lighter, lighting it and bringing the flame up to the end of the cigarette. He took a drag off of it, the unwanted smoke billowing out of his chapped lips as he sauntered over to the couch and plopped down onto it. A cloud of dust puffed out, causing Rockwell to cough quite a bit.

"So. You ever going to tell me your name? Or am I just going to have to refer to you as 'the one with the vagina'?" he asked the woman once the coughing subsided.

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The Male's words caused Ryder to cringe as she made her way around the farmhouse; picking up sticks and twigs as she went along. The mere idea of his crone fingers touching her made her nearly vomit a little in her mouth.

Ryder narrowed her eyes as she carried the bundle taughtly between her arms; what the Hell? "I am so glad you are so willing to help, Old Timer." She nearly growled a she droped the wood and brush by the fire place.

Kneeling before the hearth she began to arrange the sticks and brush in order to generate some sort of warmth while they were stuck there with one another. "My name is Ryder...and what is yours? But it matters not, I will be calling you Old Timer anyway." She shrugged as she reached into her front pants pocket, brandishing a sleek zippo she grifted off of a corpse a few years back.

Her thumb flicked it to life as the flame began to heat the metal about it rather quickly. Ryder lifted her other hand before the flame and it quickly zipped over to the palm, hovering over it as if it wish to kiss the flesh. The female concentrated briefly on the flame as it began to enlarge it's size, the glow casting warmth about her smudged complexion as she tossed the fireball against the wood.

It sizzled sending sparks this way and that as it began to blaze before her very vision. She sat back bringing her knees to her chest as her hand gripped that of a stick, lightly prodding the fire as she kept it stoked as possible.

"So tell me, Old Man. What brings you out here?" She asked, not even caring to look up at his direction. Right now? She wanted to be home, not in some foreign place that she wasn't even too sure on how secure it was.

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Sun Nov 28, 2010 12:34 am

"Hmph. The name's Rockwell. You know...the artist. I'm sure you young whippersnapper wouldn't know who Norman Rockwell is." he snorted to her as a faint glow from a lit fire was casted upon his skin.

He took another drag off of his cigarette and blew out the smoke as she asked him why he was here. In all honesty, he didn't really know. He stood up off of the couch and brushed the dust off of himself. Flicking the lit cigarette to his left side, he headed outside and expected to hear the symphony of insects fill the air. But, it was deathly quiet outside. It wasn't the first time the night was so quiet for him. His head was bowed down as he approached the fire, crouching down next to it in hopes of staying warm for a bit.

"If only we had the marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers," he mused to himself, his eyes locked onto the flames, "in response to your question earlier...I am out here ransacking houses in hopes of meeting young girls like yourself. You know, with your succulent, virgin bodies and your cuteness." he explained to her with a straight face, turning his head towards her to see her reaction.

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Who in the Hell was Norman Rockwell? And what was a queer artist doing playing commando with the professionals? Being the fact that the only time she stepped out into the world was when it had come to an end, she had no clue that he were being sarcastic.

Ryder shuddered as she felt as if worms were crawling upon her skin as she listened to his lecherous words. "Gramps, you need to find yourself a fellow geriatric to meet your repulsive needs." She narrowed her eyes in annoyance at the male as she scooted herself across the floor, pressing her back against the worn and torn sofa.

"What would you do with graham crackers, chocolate and marshmellows?" Ryder asked quizzically, was this another odd human civilian custom? She has had them before, but not together like that but she were pretty sure they held some sort symbolism to the old man.

Subject: Re: Old Farm House Mon Nov 29, 2010 2:07 pm

"Wow. You are a sheltered little girl, aren't you?" he chuckled, shaking his head in amazement, "you put the chocolate, graham crackers and marshmallows together to make S'mores. They are out of this fucking world. Believe me." he informed her as he took a seat back onto the couch.

He took out his lighter and pack of cigarettes, drawing one out and lighting it. He exhaled the smoke, and looked out the dust-ridden windows, not really seeing anything beyond the window panes. His gaze soon went over to the girl, just staring at her. Hell, there was nothing else better to do. There were no monsters or zombies just yet. He silently doubted that any more would come out of the woodworks and attack either one of them.

"So. Are you going to be on patrol for a while or do you want me to do that first while you get your beauty sleep?" he questioned her, rolling his eyes slightly.