wickedmayne-blog

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Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost.

Inferno, Dante Alighieri (via ex-spectra)

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if upon waking he could remember, then aaron would probably find himself remembering the sound of the tires, of the car skidding past– the incident. what he did remember before his mind shut him down, his body down, was images of a fair amount of years ago coming back to life in front of him. the fancy sedan he’d sat in, father on his left, sister in the back. all before everything went wrong and suddenly the intense feeling of guilt drowned him in the memories of the suv that flew into the side of the car. death. should’ve been him, should’ve been him– his head had pounded with the flashbacks, made him lose any sight or track of where he was, what kind of world he was even in now. all before his mind had shut it down and everything had gone dark for a while. but it wasn’t like aaron would remember any of that as he slowly started to come back around, head foggy with the aftereffects of a headache apparently.. maybe he’d hit his head– before he opened his eyes a little, surprised to find he apparently wasn’t lying on the ground alone, can feel someones leg, hear anothers breathing. still, it takes effort to really wake himself up them, confusion and disorientation overtaking his sense as he groans out quietly. almost in pain, but not quite. aaron wonders then how long he’s been out, and who he’s even with.

Soaking in the peeking sunlight did not treat Declan’s white complexion all too well, though, it reminds him of how it is to be alive. Squinted eyes move to his wrist before back to his patient. Fifteen minutes; fifteen more and I’ll have to drag you back to the nearest camp... and by myself, too. His patience wears thin, not particularly at the calm sleeper, but by the agitated dangers now around. With the vehicles nowhere in sight, he uncaps his water to quench his minute thirst, never truly stopping his hand from hovering above his belt. Luckily, the nearest walking corpse remains yards away from their position. For the next moment, Declan orients himself with the direction of the closest zone, spotting the gate exit out of this small neighborhood. Eastward, where is it? Again, he takes the time and coordinates it with where the sun is. Left, then it should be a straight shot back to the cent— Groaning startles him as he nearly forgets his new companion, leg numbed since the first minute of rest. In tense whisper, Declan shares his blunt opinion, “Hey, we need to get moving. Can you walk?” His bobbed head shoots back up, making sure that no hostiles are incoming before returning, “Sit up and have some water,” passing his half-full container nearby, “You might be dehydrated. M’center is two blocks out, so I’m giving you five minutes to get your head together.”

` Motion Sickness — Aaron Xu

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` Unloaded Clip — Entry

+ 1 Endurance & + 1 Intellect

          December 7th, 2016 at 11:43 am —

I couldn’t think stop thinking about it. I can’t even eat my lunch because of it, so here I am writing again. Next time, you’re going to have a proper cover, friend, but thank you for listening.

Do you remember that one woman in the violet, laced dress? She was so beautiful... crying and having her mascara run down each cheek. All she kept yelling was, “Mama! Mama! Please, say something!” I never got to ask her what happened to her phone call. I never got to approach. All I did was run and dodge like all hell to the outside of the apartment building. What was I doing... eating, I was making food, playing with the meat cleaver, and messing with the cutting board. Perhaps I should stop and eat, but... If I took a shower twenty minutes earlier, I might not have heard all the commotion on the other side of the front door. I don’t know, is that lucky?

Anyway, I’m sure I mentioned it before but there was the office manager’s dachshund, about a few meters away from the stairwell. I didn’t see it at first, only heard it whimpering while I was descending. My stupid self hasn’t even seen these things yet, and the screaming lady continued to panic downstairs. You know, I regret not picking up the cleaver and dragging it down with me. There she was, getting grabbed and harassed with the office telephone on the floor. It reminded me of those old movies in New York where the phone made this deep beeping sound and that maiden in distress.

Yet... I couldn’t do anything as the man bit her neck. It wasn’t like a vampire or bum. His skin was pale and disgusting. Faint smell of pizza charcoal and unwashed clothes. Her neck exploded almost. A fountain of blood as her voice curdled, like a murder. No, it was a murder. I yanked the man and turned him around, hearing the woman’s body fall to the floor. I swear, he was missing an eye and a few sections of his teeth, but his grab was ridiculous. Not even a body builder could grab that hard and intense, it bruised me. I kicked the guy in the nuts with little reaction, but I suppose it was enough because I turned loose and sprinted to the street.

The dog was there, with almost a quarter of its side missing and chewed up. Blood pooled, what a sight to see. I didn’t look long, and before I knew it, I bumped to the manager on the sidewalk shooting lethal rounds into people. It didn’t make sense at the time, but I remember him saying to stay behind him, so I did. A few more clips, and he was on the ground. His handgun kind of flew out of his hand, and away from the both of us while one of those things tackled him to the ground. Scared for my life, I picked it up and started unloading into the person on top of the manager. I pulled the trigger maybe three or four times, but the man I knew didn’t stand up. I don’t even know why I did this, but I knelt to check on him. His face was mauled like those bear attacks, but he woke up! Then, he started grabbing me! I didn’t know why, so broke of his grip and ran away back upstairs.

Everything was automatic then, but it’s fine. I don’t remember what happened after, just that I was so high on adrenaline and fear. Only God knows what happened now.

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“ Up there on the screen, we can all fly. But down here on earth, we need to be each other’s wings. ”

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` Silenced Crisis — Ahn Zoe

On a daily basis, people go missing and meet their makers. Declan feels that any effort to reduce that number is one worth fighting for. Passing by Canyons Community, he opts to bargain for entry with one of the guardsmen. A few random background checks in, a survivor inside recognizes his face and he reciprocates the greeting before being released by the interviewer, allowing him to catch up. Elated, they discuss each other’s well-being before he departs to head on towards the an inventory manager. “Please tell me you have some chocolate for this,” bringing out some clean gauze and medical tape, Declan smirks as the lady jokingly scoffs and passes him a bag. With his prize inside, he thanks her, “You know me well, thanks Emma. Anything you’re looking for? Maybe I can get it for you?”

Ten minutes of conversation, passing back some touchy subjects and old favorites of theirs. He peels a candy wrapper and pops it in his mouth before leaving her presence. Runners missing, hmm... One fierce face catches his eye, the infamous leader in the distance for Declan to approach. “Excuse me,” his hands slip the snack into his backpack, slinging it to his free shoulder, “Did you hear anything about some missing persons yet? Perhaps the place they went?” Curious inquiry leaves him excited as his goal is now set for today. At the very least, they must have equipment that I can bring back. Truly, he did not think the best for their condition, expecting not all of them to actually return. Regardless, he consoles the both of them, “There’s a chance for them to still be out there, yeah?”

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` Fruitless Eve — Poppy A.

A melting pot of trouble, Declan shuffles through button-down shirts one size above his own. Like paparazzi at the end of the show, the undead continues to eye him down through the transparent glass at the front, sturdy enough to hold the barrier between. Nonetheless, the entrance is impassable at it stands. The least they could have are ones not in plaid. Folding back the collar of the top shirt, he attempts to keep busy to ignore the rumbling of his stomach. Thud! Thud! The man checks his wristwatch, “Another half an hour ‘til we eat, another half an h— agh!” Patience runs thin as Declan holds back a full tantrum, the pounding in the backroom seemingly increasing louder in proportion to his stress. A sigh of tense air pushes through his nose.

With a gentle pinch of his face to his chin, he walks back to his companion in an attempt to persuade her once more. Holding back aggressive hand gesturing, Declan re-explains the situation, “Hear me out again, please. There is no way we are getting out through that way,” presenting the entrance that has not changed since they have been here. Thud! Thud! Eyes move from looking at her to the only other door in the store behind the register, “And, people have not come this way. Let’s investigate the back and see if there’s something we can use... I can’t do it alone,” his plea more civil and desperate than before hopes to appeal. “I apologize, but we can’t stay here forever.” Hands grasp his abdomen, as hunger tests his morale before reaching out to touch her hand as humane contact.

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` Motion Sickness — Aaron Xu

Sounds of skidding tires have all but fully faded, dissipating as Declan carries a motionless body through the mess. Maneuvering through a path away from the attracted undead and armed drivers forces him to tread carefully, steering clear of any potential noise makers. Now a distance away from the incident, he gently sets the body on the floor before sitting beside. As he props the stranger head onto his lap and off the sidewalk grass, he thinks back on the situation that had unraveled minutes ago. Did they really run over a person? Countless undead are still experiencing the same fate, as the thudding sounds and engine roars emanate from behind. Declan turns around and above the hood of the sedan they are taking shade from, spotting the customized SUV driving in the opposite way. Again, he retreats to his thoughts. Before I knew it, boom, on the ground. Eyes focus on the victim’s short locks, nearing a hand before taking it back down and choosing not to touch. “You better wake up soon, or we’re not going to pass go, heh.” Shaking the subtle Monopoly joke, he surveys the area, being content in how concealed they are from the automobiles around. Reflexively, Declan lands two fingers upon the sleeping beauty’s neck to check for breathing and pulse. Good, good. Happy to have you with me still, friend. Questions arise as each moment passes, Declan saving them to address in more appropriate circumstances.

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` Exhaust Options — Self

+3 Endurance & +1 Charisma

Sitting in the ironic situation of being a waiter with little stamina, Declan decides to spend the time with a post-military survivor on his ritual run of the morning. Jogging at the start, the two treat each others as old acquaintances, realizing that the older gentleman had frequented the restaurant that Declan had worked before. “Small world, huh?” Breathy pumps barely support the unfit man’s words, only hearing the chuckle of the veteran. Chilly, desert breezes cool off their foreheads as the duo pick up their pace. Oddly enough, Declan pushes his body to maintain side by side, though his feet cannot keep with the other’s cadence. Nonetheless, Declan slows only momentarily, where the old man eases his speed to allow his partner’s continued effort. For their thirty-five minutes together, the world feels normal and quiet, having no dangers disturb their exercise under the waking sun. Heavy pants indicate the end, as the couple cut their strides to a fast walk. No words are spoken, only proud smiles as they start their cool-down. 

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` Tough Crunch — HC #1

Declan goes to great lengths to fill his sweet craving, even jeopardizing his life to secure a couple of snacks. Having decent longevity, chocolates have become scarce and any sighting is rare, especially for him. With his favorite being the Crunch bar, the man will dedicate hours inside movie theaters and convenience stores to scour and scrounge up any confections. Crisped rice chocolate can be attributed to his childhood, where the candy was handed to him as a sort of reward whenever he did a job well done. Feelings of ecstasy come to him to minute he puts one in his mouth, and his concentration rises alongside his dopamine levels. The traveler will never admit it, but gifting him one of these is a sure way to get on his good side. 

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Zero Containment

First of, I am Nu, Declan Redmayne’s mun! My goal is to bring about a team that he will be guiding around the town of Perdidos Springs, with four permanent positions and two temporary slots (subject to change!). Affiliation with any safezone is unimportant, as Declan here is not tied down to one location. Similarly, he is not searching for particular skills, just partners for the travels. Hopefully by the end of this, I can convince a couple of you to the little ragtag group that the man will be leading.

So what is Zero Containment?

It is a description, a motto, and a goal. ZC, as Declan refers to it, is the name of the group he looks forward to having, running between zones and essentially helping out others. They are free, contained not of one place but rather, of absolutely nothing. There are no limits to what they are now capable. Unlike the undead that ransack the streets, the team wanders goal-oriented, never traveling aimlessly.

Why Zero?

Zero means the point of origin, it is the start of something new. There is no tolerance for anything less than success within, as each goal set by Declan and the group become more and more prevalent. Moreover, they are the uninfected, true humans that not only fight for their own sanity and well-being, but apocalyptic heroes in the making for the population to look up to and strive to be.

What does the group do?

The team are essentially freelance supply runners in a sense, picking up odd jobs for safe zones and other groups that just cannot do the current task at hand, whether that be extra hands in securing down an overrun generator or transporting negotiated medical or food items to other zones when other supply runners have not returned. They are the transporters; they are the containers. Someone has to step up to do the harder duties, so why not Declan and his group?

How do people join and do these “missions?”

Joining is simple. Send an ask my way if you would like be a permanent member of group and you will be taken in! It starts small, like everything else, hoping to one day grow too large to count the actual numbers. Appearing after the previous, missions will be tagged as #zc: mission, where a report of the current goal(s) sets up the group plot interaction, alongside the starter of Declan briefing his mates around. Worry none as it will always be Declan doing a little action and speech to introduce the plot, where teammates can simply pick up on! Should you want to test the water or only hop on in a sole mission without signing up to the team, feel free to contact as a temporary, you never know what it is like until you try after all!

As I conclude, I want to welcome any other inquiries or concerns about the group and their reason of existence! Please, ask away. My IM and box are always open to everyone. Additional information on the man can be find in his background here. I anticipate the start of the rp and the team!

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` Hidden Flames — Mission #1

Glowing Embers has sent their runners out to pick up any objects to break down into raw firewood. Seeing as a couple of their generators have run their course, they have collectively agreed to start a stockpile of these materials in case of an emergency. With an open-air environment and the ‘outdoor’ feel, campfire makes the easiest in terms of warmth, cooking, and light.

Fist full and tight, Declan chews the rest of his granola bar as he departs from one of the motor homes. “Alright, listen up. I got us a job today.” Waltzing over to the bed of a rundown truck, he unravels a blank piece of paper and throws it atop. “We need millions of that,” pointing to the parchment half-crumpled before it skids away with the help of the wind. “Anything that can burn: wood, gasoline, kindling, paper... That is what we are searching for today. Let’s stick together and stay close to the perimeter for now, hmm?” One nod of his head, no more words need be spoken about the situation at hand as he heads eastward outside the gate. Afternoon light hits his face as he grins to look back before deciding on a maroon building to possibly head towards.

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` Enemy Contact —

OPEN

Cleaning up during a scavenge hunt means to leave no cache unopened. Following his motto of  ‘keep going until your bag is full’ did not have to be literal, but in this case, one last joyride can easily top off his pack. Blue-chromed sedan in its former glory awaits Declan’s tampering, with the man already surveilling locked doors and shut windows. Breaking this might bring more attention than... Thoughts trail as he ducks to avoid the eyes of a walker, surprised to find that the infected have already made their way to this intersection before the evening. “Ahem!” One sound to clear his throat, he hopes to turn the head of his fellow survivor a few feet in front as the undead abruptly shifts its line of sight.

Shi— In hindsight, the action could have been better played, but at least the danger is now in mind to hopefully the both of them. Once more, his back goes behind the cool metal of the vehicle. Killing the zombie might be possible, but Declan hesitates as the amount around is unknown. Groaning intensifies as the stench of flesh nears the man. Calmly, he raises three fingers in the air, the signal to alert his companion that he is going to flee first rather than take it head on, as risks are high. Ahead, he plans his course. Five seconds to run; see the situation; then perhaps kill. FIve... four... three...

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` Oh Weather — Poetry

Admire the clear skies and fresh air For the same sun and stars we share. Breathe in the mystery amidst all the gore As you have those many decades before, So that perhaps you may no more despair.

Fear not the winds that whisper and care, Instead stray away from the few that scare Like grey clouds desiring to wet the floor.           Admire the clear skies...

Unsettled shades come to chill thy hair And inflict frostbitten nightmare. Stay warm as calm nights brings a snore, Cherishing the times forevermore, But remain alert and always beware.           Admire the clear skies...

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“Lost Stars” sung by Adam Levine, from Begin Again

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Confront them with annihilation, and they will then survive; plunge them into a deadly situation, and they will then live. When people fall into danger, they are then able to strive for victory.

Sun Tzu (via itsquoted)