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The Heavy Weapons Guy; Open.
Topic Started: May 29 2013, 02:03 PM (1,600 Views)
Skraal
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[ *  *  * ]
A compass? That would he useful. Timothy examined his map, trying to determine where would be the best place to find writing materials. If the terrorists confiscated them from the students' bags, there was no guarantee that there would be any left. Then again, they didn't exactly have a track record of flawless competence either. Who knows what other mistakes they made? For all they knew, they could have even-

Timothy stopped himself. He was rambling again. Now was not the time for this. He looked back at the map. Since the whole area was likely abandoned, all areas likely were cleaned of useful objects before the people packed up and left. Their best chance would be to look for a place where there were so many of the item in question that it could have been missed by their owners. The shopping mall was probably the best area in that regard. He looked up at the others and held up his map, pointing at the shopping mall for emphasis. As he did, he explained his reasoning for why he had decided on that area.

"...So, would you guys be okay with checking out the shopping mall first?"
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dmboogie
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Man, meeting up in an inn is an established tabletop RPG tradition. First time I've ever heard of a bunch of dudes meeting up in a wheat field, though.

After all, what were the fuckin' odds of meeting two other members of his book club within such a short period of time? Oh, and the random asshole. He didn't count in the equation. He was that one NPC who insisted on tagging along with the main party, despite know one really caring about him or knowing why he was even there.

Eh, maybe a bit too harsh there. Asshole's still a valued member of the party. I just don't know who the hell he is.

Michael'd been idly shifting his weight from foot to foot while the others still continued talking. After a while, he idly resumed digging in his pack, only to pull out a small pamphlet of paper. Curious, he flipped it open and began reading it.

...Danya, you condescending, evil, disgusting SON OF A FUCKING NECROPHILIAC COUCH FUCKER YOU BITCH'S BASTARD'S FUCKIN' WHORE

Fuming, Michael started tearing the pamphlet to shreds, pausing briefly as he realized that he was destroying precious writing material.

Fuck it, I don't even give a shit.

He continued his complete and total annihilation of the offending paper, finally releasing the shreds to the ground, stomping on them a few times for good measure. He self-consciously looked up at the others, adjusting his hat then shrugging.

Lemme guess, I look like I've gone batshit insane? ...Eh, worth it.
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CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
"Alrighty then," said Corey, fiddling with the compass. "So, uh... anyone actually know how to use this thing?"

A pause. Then a smirk.

"I kid, of course. Browsing the Internet can actually help out sometimes," he said, spinning the compass housing.

"But yeah, shopping mall sounds good, although we could stop by the hospital and the hotel as well, since they might have some paper, too."

He looked at Rachael's map, and then at Tim's.

"Right, so... much as I love maps and shit, I don't think we need to have all of ours out at once. Rachael..." he continued, reaching a hand out towards her map. "Could I borrow it for a-"

He was interrupted by the sound of ripped of paper. Turning towards the sound, He saw Michael ripping up some sort of pamphlet.

Oh god he's snapped, he jokingly thought.

A small grin appeared on his face.
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Laurels
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"Yeah, I say the shopping mall as well," Rachael said.

Corey began to plan how to find the mall, asking Rachael for the map.

"Yeah, here-" she began to say before being interrupted.

Michael began to tear up a pamphlet and stomping it to the ground. Rachael simply stared as he did so. She didn't know what he came across or why he reacted to violently. She figured it was some much needed catharsis, but what did he come across that made him so angry?

"Um, yeah," she said to Corey, holding out the map for him to take.

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Skraal
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Well, that was unexpected. Timothy cringed as he heard the ripping paper. He knew that the pamphlet was written by the terrorists to try to convince people to kill each other, but still... It didn't sit well with him just to destroy reading material like that. At least now the distraction was over.

He looked toward the others. Hopefully they had figured out where they were going. It was nice to be able to take a break from carrying his heavy backpack, but standing still in the middle of an open wheat field was making him rather antsy. Hopefully they'd be able to find some sort of cover soon. After waiting for a pause in conversation, he spoke.

"So, um, have you guys figured out which way we should head out then? I don't know if it would be a good idea to, uh, stay still in one place for so long."

He stopped as he realised that he couldn't exactly articulate why staying there would be a bad idea. Well, there was always the danger of people sneaking up on them, but that could happen anywhere. Why was he so nervous about being here? He couldn't exactly put his finger on it, but the feeling was still there, nevertheless. He opened his mouth to try to qualify what he had said earlier, but he quickly shut it again. No sense rambling on about something that he wasn't even sure how to explain to himself.
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dmboogie
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Agh, just fucking DO something already!

Michael'd been growing increasingly impatient as the minutes ticked by, with the others apparently still no closer to reaching a decision. Dammit, if they were going to hold a philosophical debate on whether or not bacon is, truly, the epitome of taste, there were better places to do it than in the middle of a fucking wheat field! Hordes of creepy-ass ghost children could descend upon them at any moment!

Still not willing to waste his precious writing space, Michael simply continued to shift his weight from side to side, waiting for a consensus to be reached by the others. He'd never been good at waiting, even when he was able to tell what was being said around him.

I swear, if this takes much longer I'm just gonna drag everyone into the most jovial fucking conga line the world has ever seen and head off in a random direction. At least we'd be MOVING, then.
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CondorTalon
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"Thanks," Corey said, taking the map from Rachael. "Alright, give me a few seconds."

He got on one knee, placing the map on his other leg, keeping the relevant portion of the map as straight possible. He placed the compass on the map, lining up the directional arrow in the direction they need to go, then turning the housing so that the guide faced north.

He then stood, placing the compass flat on his hand, and slowly turned until the compass needle lined up with the housing.

"Alright, we're moving that way," he said, pointing.

"We're all good to go, yeah? Let's head out."

Then, he started to walk, taking the lead, keeping an eye on the compass.

((Corey Esposito continued in Can't watch TV here, guys. The reception's terrible.))
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Laurels
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Corey took the map from Rachael and was already figuring out which direction would take them to the shopping center. Within a few minutes, he figured out which was was west, and began to march out of the field.

"Alright, let's do it," she said, following Corey.

Rachael began to follow the boy through the wheat fields. She began to hope that allowing Michael to communicate would allow their group to be free of any issues with communication. Things were starting to look better, so maybe things would continue to go well in the long run.

((Rachael Langdon continued in Can't watch TV here, guys. The reception's terrible.))
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Skraal
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[ *  *  * ]
Timothy heaved the canisters onto his back as he head off after the others. He pushed the wheat out of his face as he continued, yelling after the others.

"Hey, wait up!"

He smiled. There was no denying that their situation was terrible, but things could only get better from here on, right? After all, the government rescued people last time, and if they could do it once, they could do it again. It was only a matter of time.

((Timothy Abrams continued in Can't watch TV here, guys. The reception's terrible.))
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dmboogie
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Fucking finally.

After a quick check to make sure he had his few possessions together, Michael followed the of lead the others as they made their way out the field. He paused for a moment as he realized that no one had actually stopped to tell him where the hell everyone was going. Michael shrugged and moved on.

Anything's better than dicking around in the wheat forever.

It was probably safe to assume that they were headed to the shopping mall, as Tim had made sure to point to it on the map. A pretty good place to look, anyway. Hopefully the interns the terrorists had assigned to clear the place out had decided to just go "Fuck it" and conveniently forget to check the one secret corner of the mall where the paranoid shopkeeper had been constructing a stronghold to defend against a zombie apocalypse, where they could live out the rest of their days in peace.

At least, if the mutant crabs didn't get them first.

((Michael Mitchellson: Continued in Can't watch TV here guys. The reception's terrible))
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