Did you follow my link? For real? Even after that night? o.o

I tend to think about it for a moment, but if that perfect word fails to come to me, I implement the next best until I have that revelation farther in. Mind you, it does not always occur, but most of the time it will hit me like a 10-ton anvil : P

Hey, You've given me a proper tongue lashing in the past, you do fairly well at putting people back in place when need be. . . and when need is not. . . but yeah xD

Mate, you're not -that- awesome.

Anyways, welcome Sophi :3 Great to see you around <3

Hey, I even slip into English spellings from time to time. Now, if you fail at spelling a word that is clearly wrong in every manner of the word, I will have no choice but to correct the grievance. :3 Welcome to the site, NaNaNa

If people cannot figure out who you are, I'm going to have to slap them very hard. Welcome to the site, TF.

I'm still alive, mate. Yes, I am. X3 Just insanely busy. I will have to start checking up on here more and probably start doing some reskinning because this bright white and blue are killing my eyes : P Glad to see you here, Orion.

"You hear it too, don't you? The awkward scuffling and lifeless moans?" he cackles out. "This is what awaits us. Death. If nature does not get the best of us, nor the rotting corpses, then our own kind is sure to do us in." The man goes silent before punching the concrete wall. A sickening crunch comes from him at the impact. Despite the pain, the man's voice comes out in an unwavering monotone, "This is our Necropolis. This city is our grave and the rubble our tombstones. . . It should have never gotten like this." A soft sob rumbles from deep in the bloke's throat as he falls to his knees. "I'm sorry for bringing you here."

Chase looks at the ghostly visage and nods fervently. It was obviously she was not injured now that she could get a closer look as the colors were still pristine. The voice came as a bit of a surprise to her, though. Here was the most bad-ass top dog, charging into danger and coming out without a single scratch, but they were soft and feminine, in voice, at least. Despite that, Chase cannot help but smile behind the filter. It was her lucky day, running into her savior. Heavens only knew how much longer she'd be out looking for supplies without this boon of generosity.

Approaching the cadavers, she spies that the bag mentioned was there on the ground, but the contents had taken a spill. The edge of the bag has a dark crimson creeping ever so slowly up from its edge which is situated within a widening pool. Guilt fills her that two men had died to enable her to take this much. She crouches down, placing her light on the ground and begins to pick up the cans, lost in her thoughts. They might not have been friendly, but did they really need to die? She was convinced people were becoming an ever rarer species on the planet, so slaughtering one another certainly did not avert the ongoing crisis. All that pieces her mind is the soft thunk of the cans hitting each other as she moved them into the bag. A rasping exhale comes from farther in the dark, but she still pays little mind. A clatter meets her ears as the source smacks into an overturned shopping cart further down her aisle. Chase looks up to see a Walker approaching her awkwardly.

With a curse under her breath, she slings the satchel over her back and takes off in the opposite direction, aiming for the light at the end of the tunnel. Catching a glimpse of the woman from before outside, she lets out a warning call, "Looks like it's time to ditch this spot!"

Bang. . . . BangBang. . . The gunfire resounds off the walls of the desolate landscape, unsettling the lull of silence. In the gray skies, the few carrion eaters that remained through the cold seasons flutter from their warm roosts, seeking new shelter. Chase's blood runs cold at the sound. The person she had caught sneaking into the building was probably dead now. Her heart picks up speed, slamming against her chest like a jackhammer. On one hand, she is just as much at risk there, yet questions flood her head about the possibility they had survived the shooting. After all, there were multiple firings. Her conscience attacks her relentlessly at the thought: Could she really leave someone for dead when they needed her help? Whatever the case, she could not risk staying out in the open any longer. So her mind reaches the consensus that she would take a peak.

With one arm, she holds her weapon pointed down in a manner with a finger on the trigger so that if she had to, she could swing it up and fire. With her other hand, she seeks her belt and manages to remove a shake-charge mag-lite from her belt. Nervously, she shakes the flashlight back and forth, she passes it off as herself making sure it had some juice. After swallowing the lump in her throat, Chase cautiously steps through the door, before shifting to the dark. If anyone was paying attention, her silhouette against the blinding-white would be a dead give-away. She holds her breath as she moves farther in. She could see parts of the tarnished store from the light filtering in through the scarce windows and other openings. Even in the darkness, she could spy the white in the darkness, confirming she had indeed been sane when she thought she saw someone outside. What unnerved her, though, were the two motionless heaps on the ground who she was now scavenging.

Under her breath she hisses, "What does he think he's doing?" Whoever they were, they must have had some affiliation. Destroying two members essentially secured a place for your head out there. Chase begins to jog forward, but stops, finding running headlong towards a killer (regardless of how their appearance was wrong for an Anon or Legionnaire) was pretty much a death wish. After all, she could be just as easily mistaken for a Walker or another combatant. Unsure, she lets her shotgun slip back along its tether to her side and flicks on the flashlight while holding her free hand up above her head to display her non-aggressive position. He muscles bunch as advances, kicking up dust from the filth-coated floor. Her ears strain for any other shuffling of feet besides what might belong to herself or the spirit before her. After getting close enough, she stops and calls out in a loud whisper, "Are you hurt?"

Stopping to get her bearings, Chase looks around at the scenery, trying to determine her location after he moment of panic. "Ah hell," she mutters, the words coming out muffled through her face mask. She realizes that nothing looks familiar, whether due to the snow or that she rarely came out so far, she was unsure. She takes this moment to break, moving til her back is pressed to a wall and the wind is blocked. Letting herself sidle down the building, she lifts her slightly fogged mask to catch her breath. The wind chills her slightly sweat-covered face and forces a shiver to run down her spine. Shaking, she reaches for her canteen and takes a long swig. If nothing else, the winter months meant no lack of water supplies.

She lowers the canister as she sees a strange shift in the snows back towards the market. Startled, she rubs her eyes, blinking rapidly to make sure she was not imagining things. It was really moving, that mound of snow. . . or was it really snow? If it was a person, there was no way it could be a zombie, they were too clean, Nor could they be the Anons (due to the utter lack of heavy fire-power) or the mysterious black-clothed organization. Curiosity gets the best of her, as she puts the stopper back into place and lowers her mask once more.

Dusting the snow off, Chase departs towards the supermarket, keeping to the shadows and spots free of snow as best she could while remaining a safe distance from poor-lit openings in the buildings. She stops a few buildings away, crouching down behind a drift to hide herself as best as possible. Slung at her side, her shotgun seems to weigh against her, the familiar itch to defend herself to survive bubbling up. Without so much as a second thought she welcomes the sensation like an old friend.

Snowflakes begin to lazily drift down in a flurry, dusting her goggles ever so slightly. Chase's chest heaves in a sigh displaying her irritation with the weather, which forms a puff of steam as it filters through her mask. It was not as if the weather was a terribly bad thing. It had its perks, such as forcing the roaming undead into cover so they would not freeze for the season. It was relieving, being able to walk more freely, but there were still other threats. Unlike the zombies, they could track her footsteps in the snow whenever the white specks stopped their descent.

Between the risks and the general chill, she would have preferred to stay back at base, but someone had to go out. This was a supply run, it is necessary: this is what she reminded herself as she takes self-assured strides further into the ruins. As she sees movement in the shadows of a crumbling complex, she draws her heavy jacket closer around her frame. Chase sticks out well enough in contrast to the pallid scenery while wearing a black coat, but it was not like such supplies were as easily found. Maybe if she was lucky she could find something less noticeable deeper in the city. Places that were not ransacked were becoming scarcer, however.

As she sees more flickers of movement, she tenses. There is no way she could deal with a whole group, not while she is running solo. She presses close to the walls of an old department store to become less of a target. In a few moments, she is reassured that she was hearing voices. This could be bad. If it is the Anon's, she does not stand a chance in hell. If it is a patrol of the strangers in black, her luck will be just as bad. That is the problem with drifting to the inner-city. One could never be sure just who they might bump into and proceed to be killed by. As they take a turn away, Chase begins to dart in the opposite direction. The one thing on her mind is the slight relief that she would not be dealing with the zombie Walkers.

*checks watch* Oh, it only took you. . . 30 minutes :3 congrats, have a completely ordinary cookie. Welcome to RA, Desi *holds your hand* Now let's go to the RP section. I know this has been a traumatic experience for you.

omg! BUNNAY WATCH OUT! there is a rabbit trying to grope you D:

don't reference me in your intro thread >.>

Hey now~ you made a great foundation, it's just going to need a decorator come through at some point. :3 *puts on welding mask and turns on welding tools* where do you want that skylight?

Hello, my name is Tempest and I'm an alcoholic art freak. Those of you I like somewhat can call me Rhai, though (not my real name, just my irl nickname). I'm sure if you don't already know me, you will soon enough. I am an elitist, flamer and troll, but a totally dedicated RPer. . . sometimes. Hrmm, not sure what else to say, but thanks for the invite to the site.

Don't forget to Grovel,