Picking up the Pieces Group 1

Rules:
1. No god modding or overpowering. Give other peoples' characters a chance to react.
2. If you want to leave the Rp, figure out a way to remove your character so that they don't magically dissapear from continuity.
3. For now, only one character per person allowed, this may be raised if not many people join.
4. Please stick to the posting order and post within 2 days of the person before you. The first time this is violated, you will be skipped, the second time, you will be kicked.
5. Try and keep content around PG-13. As this is Post-Apocalyptic, blood and violence is allowed.
6. Please do not post one liners, unless there is no other option, as they are basically spam.
For any needed info, refer to the Sign-Ups topic here
Posting order is: Me,Anton, Jax, then Bronze.
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Hiyori trudged along through the leveled wasteland, not a single other living thing in sight. She had wandering for who knows how long now, ever since being separated from her partner on a mission. They were supposed to evaluate the current situation on Earth, but when they ran into a group of demons, they were separated. While she continued to think about this, she tripped and fell on her face, then turned around to see what it had been. What looked like a green sheet of metal partially stuck out of the ground, charred and burnt on the corners. A city limits sign. Hiyori got up and was about to look at it closer when she doubled over and began coughing. Blood. 'I need to get help soon.' She thought to herself between coughing fits. 'If I don't I'm gonna die out here, alone. Hiyori weakly stumbled forwards, through the doorway of the closest blown out building, then slumped against the wall and closed her eyes.

Day X + I don’t even care anymore
Entry 214

Found a packet of chips earlier today. It was fairly small, and the chips were harder than normal, but dammit, they were cheddar cheese and tasted awesome!
It’s amazing how I appreciate this stuff now. I remember a time that I’d throw chips in the air and try to catch them in my mouth as they fell. Now I don’t dare do that in fear of wasting it. Food, no matter what kind, cannot be wasted, and any comfort, no matter how small, must be savoured.
I wish I could share this stuff with Lucy.

Caleb stared at the screen, his stylus still held on the letter ‘y’. Memories of the girl sprang up in his mind; she was little more than twelve years old, yet she was so much emotionally stronger than he was.
Her screams still haunted him at night. Time did not heal wounds like that very well, it seemed.
Caleb shook his head as though it would shake the memories away, and gripped his stylus even harder.

Looks like the car’s low on fuel again. I’ve been driving for fuck knows how long, changing cars again and again, and I don’t know how long I can keep on doing this. Those Zeds are still out there, but none of them have really noticed me.
I have no clue whatsoever where I am now. Maybe it was a bad idea driving away from my last hideout.

Caleb neglected to mention that his old hideout housed himself and Lucy. Even if leaving that place was a bad idea, he knew that it would be impossible to stand living in a place with such horrifying memories.
The car began slowing to a halt, jolting the boy back to reality. He looked up from his phone, staring at the scenery. The road was void of life - strangely, there were no cars in the area. A green sign lay collapsed not too far from his position, though the writing was illegible, and next to it was a wrecked building.

Aaaand no fuel. Fuck. It seems I’ll be leaving now. At least it seems like I’m at the city limits. Well, there’s a green sign on the ground, at any rate, and there’s a building I could check out. Maybe loot for supplies, though I think it’s already been ravaged.

With that parting note, Caleb left the car in its place in the middle of the road, grabbed his stuff (his backpack, his baseball bat and his phone) and began walking towards the building, his hand firmly gripped on his bat. A trail of blood caught his eye; it was fresh. “Shit.” The door was open - or rather, it was shattered into a million glass shards. It was probably once an automatic door, and when the electricity stopped, so did it.

Caleb was careful not to step on any of the shards, and made his way inside the building. “Hello?” he called out tentatively. It was dark inside - the rays of the morning sun had only just begun to touch the Earth, and the building’s artificial lights were, predictably, out of order. “Fuck, I wish I had a flashlight,” he mumbled, his hands gripping the bat even harder.

Had he not been so attentive, he may have kicked the body lying against the wall. As it was, he only eyed it suspiciously. He couldn’t tell very well in the dark, but it seemed to be a young girl, no older than he was. The very slight breathing pattern told him that the girl was still alive. She’d probably stay alive even without medical attention, too; she didn’t seem to be too badly injured, at least as far as he could tell.

He contemplated waking her up, but decided against it; she could turn out to be a demon in disguise, or a psychotic bitch. There were many of those in this new world. Instead, Caleb walked away from her, intent on finding supplies. Hopefully a flashlight as well.

“Hmmm… Is it dirt?”

“Damnit. Best sixty-one out of one hundred and twenty?”

“Fine.”

“Alright… I spy, with my little eye… Something… Grey.”

“Is it that rubble over there?”

“Damn. Alright, something… Tan.”

“Patch of dead grass.”

“Viktor, you’re cheating.”

“How could I be cheating? It’s I Spy, for Christ’s sake! What? Am I reading your mind?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, you’ve just been picking the same things over and over again.”

“Huh… Touché, mon ami.”

“Merci.”

“So, new game.”

“Thank God. Wait. Nattasha? What are you-? No! I don’t like this ga-“

Nattasha promptly punted her friend, Viktor the Skull. She shielded her eyes from the sun and watched as Victor sailed through the air. He landed off in the distance, producing a puff of dust and ash. Nattasha shrugged. “About seventy meters. Not bad…”

The outskirts of Detroit had not really changed, despite the earth shaking End of Days. Like the proverbial cockroach, Detroit had survived the apocalypse by simply following the course it had been on for decades: running into the ground. Most of the residential buildings had been reduced to rubble. Small houses had been torn apart and looted, their foundations and structures being gutted to be made into more useful tools. Now only the skeletons remained.
The larger industrial buildings had been a more fortunate. While most useful metals or tools had already been spirited away, the structures remained relatively intact. Some had begun to crumble from lack of care and small skirmishes that occurred every so often, but that was to be expected. The buildings would remain as silent reminders of a time lost for some years to come.

The building Nattasha occupied had lost its front to some kind of explosion, leaving it open to the elements. She looked over the side and considered jumping. It was only five stories. She thought better of it eventually and opted to take the stairwell, which was covered in soot and dust. Emerging from the building, Nattasha wiped the grime from her khaki shorts and tugged the mask on her face a little tighter. The black mask was simple, with a skull design on the front, but the woman had taken a shine to it.
She strutted across the barren ground, kicking up dust. As she neared the point of impact, she could hear her friend mumbling to himself. He had annoying habit of doing that. Right in her ear too. She kneeled down and stared into Victor’s sockets.

“Seventy yards. Its your turn now.”

“I hate you sometimes.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“No, you’re just psychotic.”

“Tomato, potato. It’s all relative in the end.”

“Not really. You are talking to a skull after all. Have you considered a diagnosis of schizophrenia?”

“Now you sound like those men in the Gulag. You know how I hate that…”

“Talking. To. A. Skull.”

“You’re not my personal Jimminy Cricket, Viktor. Stop it.”

“Fine… I’m just point out-“

“Stop.”

“Alright, alright… So, when are you going to check out that building?”

“What building?”

“The one you saw something moving inside of.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well I sure as Hell didn’t see anything. No eyes, remember?”

“You are really a killjoy, you know that?”

“Just go take a look.”

Nattasha stood up, grabbing Viktor in one hand, and producing a switchblade in the other. She turned towards the structure she had seen earlier and started to briskly walk towards it. Viktor sighed. “So, who do you think it will be this time?”

“Bandits. I’m hoping for bandits.”

“You always want bandits. Why can’t it just be something nice and quiet for once? A nice nomad or traveling salesman.”

“I like bandits. They give me an excuse.”

“You really are hopeless.”

As Nattasha approached the building she could be heard prattling on in Russian, addressing a object who, for all others, was mute.

Aphranna was hiding out near Detroit. Who knows, maybe the Sanctuary was there. She gripped her staff tighter. It was the only hing she had left, from home, from Heaven. She really, really wished she could go back...Why, why had God sealed it off? Now, her only hope was the Sancturay. Maybe....But she couldn't think that. What if she never found it? But the treacherous thought ran through her head. Maybe, is whispered to her, maybe somebody there can figure out how to get you back to Heaven. She shook her head. It would never happen. Nobody, in a million years, would forget what her kind had done, and nobody would ever do her a favour, for fear of getting a staff-whack on the skull as thanks. She saw a girl, and then a boy, enter the same building, maybe for shelter...? She wasn't sure, perhaps... Perhaps, it might be a secret entrance? But what, in this ravaged wasteland that once was a place of peace, could there be worth hiding? She swooped down out of the sky, landing neatly on the ground in front, hiding her wings under a dingy white jacket. he entered, hiding her staff behind her back.

Footsteps. Someone had entered the building that she had woken up in. Hiyori opened her eyes to look around and saw a single figure standing on the far side of the room. Oh crap! Where are my swords? I'm screwed if whoever that is is hostile! Hiyori was now wide awake, though still in a lot of pain, and began desperately glancing around, trying to spot her hook swords without drawing the person's attention. When she was about to give up hope and assume they were outside the building, she saw the glint of one one them about ten feet to her left. As quiet as she possibly could, she crawled over towards the swords, then when they were within her reach, she grabbed one of them. Right before she had it fully in her hand, she broke out into another coughing fit, causing her to drop the sword with a resonating clang. Shit! Of course this would happen now of all freaking times!

(I feel inferior for my short post :( )

Caleb immediately turned around upon hearing the source of the clang; the girl had apparently regained consciousness and attempted to retrieve her weaponry (a sword?!), but fell into a coughing fit as she tried to wield it. Caleb eyed her suspiciously, gripping his rotting bat even harder. "Is that a sword?" He asked, staring pointedly at the weapon. The girl, whoever she was, knew how to use a sword (or at least seemed to think she could), but she also seemed to be sick. Should either of them initiate an attack, the battle could go both ways. He could grab his gun, but the thing was in his bag; getting it could be perceived as a threat and would make him vulnerable. If he tried to talk to the girl, it was more likely that she'd take advantage of his attempt at diplomacy and attack rather than attempt to speak rationally. So many things could go wrong with any course of action he could take, and he couldn't take all the time in the world contemplating if he didn't want her to slit his throat while he decided.

"The hell are you doing with a sword of all things?" Caleb asked, going for the third option. He tried to inject humor into his voice in order to keep her (and himself) at least slightly calm, but failed miserably. "I don't want any trouble, and judging by your cough, neither do you. I'm just looking for supplies, alright?" He racked his brain before deciding to take the role of a sympathetic type (which was not a hard feat, considering that he knew firsthand how dangerous a cold could be in these dangerous days). "If I find medicine, I'll bring it over to you, just don't get up and hurt yourself. Alright?" He continued staring at the girl, hoping that his expression was sympathetic but stern (whatever the hell that meant).

It was then that he noticed something approaching the building. It had a red fa-no, it had a red mask - and red clothing that covered its body. Something made Caleb doubt its humanity; perhaps it was the way it was wearing a costume like that, or the way it was walking so nonchalantly, or perhaps it was the fucking skull she had in her hand. "Oh fuck, something's coming." Immediately, Caleb moved as quietly as possible to hide under what seemed to be a reception desk (a fairly good disguise under the night sky). "Um, sword girl, hide somewhere. I don't think this thing's human. Try not to cough." He gently put his bat on the ground and rummaged through his bag, looking for his pistol.

Nattasha peered into the abandoned building. Dust permeated the front room and highlighted small shafts of lights that filtered into the otherwise dark room. Without a second thought, Nattasha strolled into the room.

"Hello? Anyone home?" She called out, still speaking in Russian.

"I doubt they understand you," Viktor commented. "This is Detroit after all."

Nattasha grimaced. "I really hate speaking English, you know that."

"I'll never understand why."

"It just sounds so... Slow!" Nattasha kicked an empty can across the room. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" This time she switched to a slightly accented English.

"Viktor, are you sure you saw someone come in here?"

"Again, I didn't see anything."

"You keep saying that, yet I continue to not believe it."

"Well, you are the crazy one here."

"You're the one who suggested checking the dark, abandoned... What is this place anyway?" Nattasha peered through the darkness. Having difficulty seeing, she ripped off her mask, revealing a face that screamed of Slavic heritage. Black, straight hair fell across sharp, attentive features. Green eye peered out into the darkness.

"My guess," Viktor answered, "Is that it was some sort of small shop. A Starbucks maybe."

"Do you think they still have coffee? I could really go for some coffee."

"Yes Nat, this abandoned, ruined store, which has probably been looted to the bones, is still going to have fresh coffee..."

"A girl can dream, can't she?"

With that, Nattasha peered over the counter. She did not find any coffee. Instead, she found herself peering down at a young, ragged man rummaging frantically through his bag, looking for something.

"Well, lookie here! We got a live one here! Hey guy, you have any coffee?"

"Nattasha..."

"Shhh... I'm trying to negotiate here Viktor."

"Nat, I'm fairly certain that he's not going to pull a can of coffee from that bag..."

"Oh... Bummer..."

((Feel free to blow Nattasha's head off Ant, or anyone who feels like "killing" her.))

Aphranna saw the girl huddled in one of the corners, kneeling over a sword. She seemed to be badly injured. The angel sucked in her breath slowly. This girl also seemed to be the source of the blood spot on the ground she had noticed. "Crap..." Aphranna muttered. Taking out the staff from behind her back, she carefully, quietly mumbled a healing spell. The moonstone set in her staff glowed sofly, then the light grew strong around Hiyori. The various cuts and bruises that marked Hiyori's skin faded, and Aphranna dropped her staff, letting it roll to Hiyori's feet. Aphranna waited for someone to cry out with the realization that an angel was in their mudst, and the humans hadn't even noticed.

"Holy shit!" Hiyori whispered to herself. The girl who had just walked in had a soul that was a truly disturbing sight. It was tinted black, a sign that the woman had sold her soul to Hell. The worst part was the madness. It was a dark, swirling cloud around the woman's soul; an ominous and disturbing presence that showed this person had lost any hope they once had. "She needs to be killed. Even though Heaven and Hell are sealed, I can't let someone like this continue to walk the Earth." Hiyori stood up, still rather weak despite being healed. She picked up both of her hook swords and lunged at the women, determined to rid the Earth of her presence.

*click*
As soon as the thing came over the counter, Caleb pointed his pistol at her, cocking it. "Fucking stay away! There's no coffee or..." Actually, there was a can of coffee in his bag. It was one of those instant-coffee cans that could be heated at any time, and Caleb had been saving it for when he finally found a working microwave. "Just stay the fuck away from me!" He fired a warning shot as he yelled, shooting what turned out to be a light whose glass casing shattered all over the floor-
And fell straight onto the reaper and the masked girl she was charging at.

The sound of a pistol's action sliding into place was all too familiar. The barrel stared back into Nattasha's eyes, a harbinger of Fate and Death. She had always thought it odd how the smallest tools often caused the most pain. She frowned and narrowed her eyes.

"Stay the fuck away!" the man shouted, some spittle hitting her face. He was scared and it showed.

"See, what did I tell you?" Viktor said from his spot on the counter. "Definitely not coffee."

"Kid," Nattasha began with a smug smile, "unless that thing is a really convincing squirt gun filled with espresso, you may as well put it down for all the good it'll do you."

She leaned against the counter, exuding an air of seduction. "Now why don't we just put the pea shooter away an-"

"Just stay the fuck away from me!"

The barrel exploded. Her ears rang. The muzzle-flash singed her cheek and the bullet whizzed past. Strands of hair flew upwards as the bullet ripped through the air around it. Above, a light bulb shattered and shards zipped to the ground. A particularly large piece lodged itself in the woman's back, which was evidenced by a twinge of annoyance of her face.

"Um, ow... Listen you little shit!"

Viktor attempted to gain her attention. "Nat. Look up."

"Shut up Vik. This prick needs to- "

"Nattasha!"

"What, goddamnit?!" She flung her head up just in time to see the glint of metal in the were-light of the store. Then, the steel found a home in her gut.

She stumbled back a bit, eyes wide and blood beginning to trickle from her mouth. She stared down at the blade, which was stuck firmly in her abdomen. It had certainly punctured out through the other side. Nattasha twisted her head around and confirmed her suspicions. She was skewered like a shiskabob.

"Hello to you all too... Umm, is the sword thrust like a cultural greeting? I'm afraid I don't have my own... No? Ah, so you were trying to kill me. I see. Note to self, Viktor get this down: Strangers are very devoted to their coffee. Don't ask for it. Cups of sugar are most likely off the table as well."

"Cinnamon?"

"I don't know, let me ask." With the sword still protruding, she turned back to her assailants. "You guys have any cinnamon?"

She was met with silence.

"I think that's a no, Vik."

"Got it. Cinnamon is a no go."

She turned back to her assailant.

"Would you like this back?" She indicated the sword. "I'm flattered that you think I make a good sheath and all, but it's just not working for me."

Aphranna Moved to pick upher staff, having decided that now would be the best time to turn and quietly slink out the door. Hopefully, nobody had noticed that she had gone. After all, if a madwoman who talked to skulls demanded more attention from a human and a Reaper than a possibly murderous Angel, than.....Well, she better get the heck away before people started trying to shish-ka-bob her!


Aphranna slunk out the door and quickly tip-toed away. She held her staff tightly and whipped off the jacket and teid it around her waist. She flapped her wings a couple of times and then launched herself into the air. She muttered a curse to herself as she noticed that the strap had begun to soften and wear away from overuse.

Ow, fuck! Hiyori was hit with multiple shards of glass raining down from the ceiling. That guy better watch where he aims that gun next time. Despite the pain from being cut multiple times, Hiyori continued to charge at the masked girl, not slowing down at all. What Hiyori found quite interesting was how she was able to stab her sword completely through the girl, despite the unconventional shape of the blade. Well, that's never happened before. Wait...why hasn't she showed any signs of pain? This isn't Hell's style to relieve it's victims of pain. Normally they'd make them suffer as long as possible. As Hiyori pondered this, the girl began talking to the skull again.


Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the girl who had healed her earlier quietly sneaking out the doorway. Coward, leaving before the fighting gets serious. Hold on, she used magic to heal me, she's one of those damn angels, isn't she? They're the entire reason I'm stuck in this stupid wasteland. Eh, I'll get her after I deal with crazy girl over here.


"Would you like this back? I'm flattered that you think I make a good sheath and all, but it's just not working for me." The girl who she had impaled began to talk to Hiyori directly now, instead of the skull she was holding in her hand. This drew Hiyori's attention back to the girl, and she decided to answer her question.


"I would like my sword back. Thank you for being so kind and considerate." She said this smiling the entire time. "I think I'll have it back...after I pry it from your cold, dead body!" Hiyori swung her other sword at Natasha, aiming to decapitate her with the hooked part of her sword.

It was clear to Caleb that both parties were completely, absolutely, fucking batshit insane. The masked woman with a skull was completely unpeterbed by a sword to the abdomen, and the other one was fucking smiling amidst her taunts.
Yep. Insane.
"Christ on a pogostick! You just took a sword to the... And she..." He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his baseball bat from the floor and throwing his pistol into his bag (with the safety on, thankfully), before backing away as quickly as possible.

As the sword flashed towards her neck, Nattasha uttered one word.

"Der'mo..."

Then, the blade cut through skin, tendon, muscle, and bone and severed her head clean from her shoulders. The head flew through the air and thumped onto the ground, black hair splayed out across the floor and hiding the face. Her body crumpled to the floor. Blood began to pool on the ground and the skull fell from her hand, clacking against the tiles. The body twitched a bit, stray neruons still firing, tensing and releasing the muscles. Then, everything was still.

All Viktor could say was, "It's been awhile since you've pulled this trick."