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Lightbringer
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Nicholas Accardi / 46 / Male / Mafia / M: Verrück, Caspian (dir.) Finn, Blake, Valencia, Seren, Nina (ind.) The sweep of icy blue eyes kept track of those who came out from the woodwork and rubble. A young woman leaning in the shade, against a wall. Nina. A part of a different family but a resourceful quiet young woman. The metallic groan of a metal building drew the icy gaze toward the tower and the pitiful blast below. Nicholas didn't seem to have a reaction outwardly but inwardly, he was rather disappointed in the young man. Rebuilding society and the world they knew was crucial to getting into the way of life and making sure that they lived on--that their practices and what they did could continue. To destroy everything before they could rebuild would be a fool's job. He'd have to get on the young man and Nicholas really didn't want to but he wasn't allowing fools to be around the Accardi namesake. At the least, he still had some semblance of self-pride. The man glanced around turning his attention toward the blond man that glared back at him. They had argued extensively. The man stated that it was useful in combat. Nicholas had stated that there was no combat since they were all that was left. Caspian slowly made his way out, headed toward the source of the blast as well. Trailing, soon after, was the young woman. Valencia. While she was a cop, there was something in her that at least worked hard and was well open to compromise. He could stand to have her around. She trailed after the town idiot, the yapping feathered fool in order to get things done. That was somewhat good at least. It kept that idiot out of his hair. Nicholas stood up from the chair, the wood creaking beneath him as he stood up. His back ached but he stood straight, snagging the metallic cane as he began to walk through the rubble. He moved past Blake, Val, gave Finn a warning look--and he promptly dove behind Val--as he made his way toward the other two. He came behind them, rather than addressing them fully and let out a rather disappointed sigh. "I had hoped," Nicholas spoke with a dry and flat tone, "that we could get past little grievances like this. Fools are the ones who determine that there is nothing more to do, to lay down and die." His hands curled over each other, resting on the top of the cane. His icy eyes swept between Ver and Caspian. "Now, that explosion was pathetic and useless. If we are to keep our way of life, to keep our values and our morals, we must have the upper hand. That means we do most of the work so that they," he gestured toward the small pod of former cops, "do not override everything and erase our culture. You would do well to think ahead. If I hear another explosion in town, you'd best pray you live to see another day." The man let out a short breath. "Valencia is getting the town idiot to do something on the other side of the town. So we won't have to deal with him at the least," his disdain was rather potent and strong for the particular young man, "... it is a miracle he survived this long. But I expect you to start helping otherwise, you will be on your own," Nicholas stated and stepped between the two men on his way to the rest of the town. It would be worth trying to figure out a sort of better housing arrangement rather than the odds and ends that folks stayed in now. |
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Darkseeker
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Caspian Cadogan | M | 28 | Mafia | Mentions: Verrück, Nicholas (dir.) Valencia, Finntello (indir.) His eyes didn’t move from where they were fixed on Verrück’s face as the other man looked past his form, gazing at the space behind him for a long moment. Which gave Caspian the opportunity to evaluate the reply he had received, clearly more words were on their way to his ears. However, at the sardonic tone that accompanied his declaration of appreciation, Caspian’s mouth only drew into a pointed grin. In most conversations in the past week, it had been people droning on about rebuilding. Calculating their next move to create some kind of society in this wasteland. Which, in Caspian’s very important opinion, was a load of crock. They had survived an Earth ending event, sprouted new powers. They should simply do as they please. One of the only reason he sticks around is the provision of supplies so that he doesn’t have to go hunting on his own. Verrück was right, large explosions were predicable but the destruction they left behind was awe inspiring. Smaller ones gave the thrill of the unexpected, one tiny change in projection and the outcome was completely altered. Caspian wasn’t sure which manner of chaos he preferred. As the nickname played from Ver’s lips, Caspian dug his hands into the pockets of his black woolen trench coat. The edges were ripped to ribbons and every seam was fraying, daring to snap with one wrong move. His hands pulled the coat closer around himself, cloaking him in a small amount of warmth, hiding a large majority of his body, but that didn’t hide the scrawny sinew of his neck and jaw. A quick, short laugh left Caspian before he spoke, creasing the corners of his eyes lightly. “Finding something to toast does sound like fun.” His voice was rough, words rasping over his throat before they made their way out. He was thirsty, for the past four days he had been craving a deep drink of fresh water, but that was a luxury he did not have. “I certainly won’t be throwing rubble into a useless fence.” Scoffing, he tipped his head back as he let out another bark of laughter. Laughter directed at the inane ideas the lawmen held, even some of the dark inclined individuals here thought that they could build some kind of town here. What was the point? Caspian’s head swivelled sharply, almost to the point of giving himself whiplash as Verrück commented on someone behind him. From the description alone he knew who it was, Valencia. Upon landing his gaze on her domineering figure as it strode across the clearing, Caspian’s amused expression dropped to one of utter loathing. “Oh that miserable sod.” Caspian spat out his words. “She’s always been a nasty little thing.” His eyes watched her as she marched her way up to another rather annoying person and begin yapping at him. He had many run ins with Valencia, she was stationed in his family’s domain. Meaning that she had shot at him many times, of course he had retaliated. Never once had they managed to maim each other, so when she showed up one day after a leave of absence with a cruel new scar, Caspian had always been curious as to how it had happened. “I’m sure I know some people here who would like to have a go at her-” Caspian was turning his head back around to look at Ver once again, eyes gleaming with dark humour. Only to be jolted out of his train of thought when his eyes did not meet Ver, but Nicholas. A grating man. All joy was swept from his features as he observed the older man carefully. Simply the way he carried himself made Caspian want to roll his eyes into the back of his head. He was pretentious in his opinion. He kept his attention elsewhere, gazing into the sky or past Ver into the interior of the car he was perched on. Finding anything but Nicholas to find interesting as he moaned on. Once Nicholas had taken the time to step between himself and Verrück, Caspian finally let his gaze rest upon the greying mane atop his head. “Building the fence?” He spoke suddenly, eyes glistening in their darkness. “I can barely lift a limb let alone lug half a building over to the fence, we’re emaciated.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He was exhausted and his bones ached as though someone had crushed them and healed them over and over again. Caspian shook his head, sending more rogue strands of dark hair flicking from his head. “I’ll do something, but it most certainly will not be that.” Caspian scrunched his nose in distaste, ripping his attention away from Nicholas to look back as Ver. Raising one thick eyebrow with a quick jerk of his head towards the large wings on Nicholas’s back. Get a load of this guy. |
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Neutral
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Verrück Aachen | M | 23 | Mafia | M: Caspian Cadogan, Nicholas Accardi (dir.) ~ Verrück observed Caspian’s reactions with a growing smirk, his sharp eyes catching every flicker of disdain and amusement that crossed the other man’s features. He leaned back against the crumpled car, watching the exchange unfold with lazy curiosity. His own expression remained unreadable, save for the glimmer of mischief that never fully left his gaze. - Nicholas’s presence wasn’t unexpected, but it was still irritating—a constant reminder of the fools who clung to order in this chaotic world. Verrück couldn’t help but scoff quietly to himself as the man spoke, the self-righteous tone grating against his nerves like nails on rusted steel. - When Caspian finally addressed Nicholas, Verrück didn’t miss the way his words dripped with mockery. The thinly veiled disdain was a shared sentiment, and it amused Verrück to see Caspian’s patience wearing thin. As Caspian’s attention shifted back to him, the subtle gesture toward Nicholas’s wings wasn’t lost on him. - Ver had to admit, he admired Nicholas in the slightest. Well, when he wasn't being a generic old man and yelling at everyone to get to work. But Ver knew him only for his ruthlessness, and he'd always come to appreciate ruthlessness, even if past. - Verrück responded with a slow, deliberate grin, his dagger still twirling absently between his fingers. He let the silence hang for a moment longer than necessary, as though savoring the tension in the air. Finally, he spoke, his tone dripping with dry humor. - “Well, he’s certainly... dedicated,” Verrück drawled, his voice carrying just enough edge to hint at his own disdain. His eyes flicked briefly to Nicholas before returning to Caspian, as though dismissing the older man’s presence entirely. “It’s admirable, really—trying so hard to hold everything together when it’s all bound to fall apart anyway. You’ve got to admire that kind of stubbornness… or at least pretend to.” - He shifted his weight, standing a little straighter as he glanced back toward the distant fence Nicholas seemed so intent on building. His smirk widened slightly, the corners of his mouth curling upward in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But hey, who am I to judge? If someone wants to waste their energy lugging rubble around, let them. Just means they’re too busy to bother us.” - With a casual shrug, Verrück turned his attention back to Caspian, the glint of dark humor still dancing in his expression. The world around them continued to move in its broken rhythm, but Verrück seemed entirely unbothered, as though the chaos was exactly where he belonged. - Before Verrück could follow up on his remark, a familiar sound broke through the tense atmosphere—a soft, uneven padding, accompanied by the faint rustle of debris being nudged aside. His sharp ears perked up, and his gaze shifted downward, scanning the broken ground below. The moment he spotted the scruffy, scrawny figure hobbling toward them, his smirk melted into something far softer, almost boyish in its excitement. - “Lump!” Verrück exclaimed, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic warmth as he crouched down and spread his arms wide. The German shepherd limped forward on three legs, his gait awkward but determined. Despite his bedraggled state—fur matted in places, ribs faintly visible beneath his scruffy coat—Lump’s tongue lolled out in a crooked grin, tail wagging furiously in uneven bursts. - The sight of the dog drew an audible laugh from Verrück, a rare sound that was genuine and free of sarcasm. He dropped to one knee as Lump reached him, the dog nudging his head against Verrück’s chest in an affectionate greeting. “You little rascal,” Verrück murmured, scratching behind Lump’s ears with both hands. “Where’ve you been hiding? Thought you got bored of me and ran off to find someone better.” - The dog let out a soft whine in response, nuzzling closer. Lump’s presence seemed to wash away some of Verrück’s usual edge, and for a brief moment, he looked entirely at ease. He ruffled the dog’s scruffy fur, his fingers brushing over the worn leather of the makeshift harness wrapped around Lump’s chest. - “Came at the right time, didn’t you?” Verrück continued, glancing up at Caspian with a wry grin. “Even Lump knows when the company gets stale.” His tone was teasing, but his affection for the dog was unmistakable. - Lump turned his head, fixing Caspian with a curious, mismatched gaze—one ear perking up, the other flopping lazily. The dog’s tail gave another wag, though it was slower this time, as if he were sizing up the new presence. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless,” Verrück said, though his grin turned sly. “Unless you’ve got snacks, in which case he’s your new best friend.” - Lump let out a low, contented huff before settling at Verrück’s feet, his thin frame curling up as if he’d finally found the safest place in the world. The dog’s calm presence seemed to anchor Verrück, though his sharp eyes soon flicked back to Caspian, the mischievous glint returning. - “So,” Verrück began, scratching Lump’s scruffy head absentmindedly. “Where were we? Oh, right—laughing at the futility of it all. Care to join us, Lump?” |
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Neutral
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Blake Borrelli | M | 36 | M : Nicholas (dir.) Finn, Ver & Valencia (ind.) - Voices bounced around off the rubble. The echos made it nearly impossible to tell which direction and how close those voices were. The blonde stood up fully, looking around.. except it was hard to see anything over the mess at his height. That was… annoying. His hand rested on a large piece of concrete, rebars sticking out to the side, revealing the inner frames of their city. It had been well built, built on a grand foundation, but the foundation hadn't been strong enough. “Outlaw!” He called, placing his foot on a bar, and pulling himself up the large concrete obstacle. A few minutes later he could hear the almost bell-like sound of his dogs' tags clanging together as he came towards his master. The dog greeted him at the top of the rubble, wagging his tail. Once Blake was steady, he leaned down to rub his canine. He'd lost a considerable amount of weight, and it made the cop feel bad for his partner. He was hungry too, but his dog always came first. - People moving about not too far from him caught his eye. Wistful eyes trailed them. Finntello and… what was her name? He'd never spoken to her long enough to get a name. Fellow cop though. He had respect for any of the women in the field of law. He turned in a 180, casting a shadow down upon the floor. The grey hair, it was moving, could it be? He was standing next to the idiot boom boom guy. Blake assumed that they were talking on how to get rid of the cops. But if they managed to set this world back straight, so be it. There would be no mafia without the law, simply because there's no need to be secretive without the boys in blue poking around. - Blake slid off his viewing point, giving Nicholas a glare. Well… it wasn't a glare to Blake, he'd just looked in the man's direction, but if he saw it as a glare, it was a glare. “Come on.” He said. His dog jumped down besides him, and remained in a heel position towards the pair. Finn's red wings glittered in the morning sun. His red eyes were bright, leading Blake to believe that he'd been up for a while. The idea of cleaning the area up was useless. There is no point in fixing something so far gone. His cold eyes gazed around him, at some point this would all be water under the bridge. He'd complained, pushed back and been vocal for just leaving it as is and focusing more on the survival end of things. They needed fresh water. A food source. Maybe some good shelter. The three basic needs, and instead, a group of starving humans were wasting their time clearing an area. It wasn't going to end well. Blake couldn't see anyone in this group making it through if they kept on going like this. - Him and the other all had their disagreements, of course, any group did, but when no one, except for the car nerd, was hard-headed, it made it hard to do anything. He stopped pursuing Finn and Valencia, changing his route towards Nicholas. “Nicholas.” He said, his deep voice echoing through the building's around them. He showed Outlaw his palm, the malinois sat. The dog was clearly engaged with the group of people around his master, barking at them loudly. “Quiet.” Blake scolded before his cold gaze turned back to the older man. “Food and fresh water should be our top priorities, why must you insist on cleaning up?” His nose was scrunched, showing his displeasure with the group that stood in front of him. His jaw clenched, feeling judgy eyes rake him over. He didn't care what they thought of him. You had to be the villain in someone's story to be the hero in your own. While Blake didn't want to appear as a huffy baby, crying about something as simple as cleaning, it truly was a waste of time, especially if Verruck kept on blowing things up. He'd always said… well, not really had he shared the thought with anyone, but he'd want to be dead in the first blow. Might as well remember Earth as the joyous atmosphere it was, instead of this barren wasteland. Everyone but him and those who surrounded him had gotten an exit. How lucky. - Angry with the answer he'd gotten, he turned to storm off. It was easier to leave when you wanted to punch another man than to finish a fight. It was the safer option anyways. His jaw was clenched, eyes hooded from his scowl. His heart sank deep into the pits of his stomach. It was over. They were all doomed. His eyes welled up from the bubbling over anger that he'd pushed down. It wasn't very long later that he and his steady partner made it to the gas station. His eyes seemed distant, not that they could be seen behind his glasses. The man didn't say anything to the others around him, and instead just picked an area to start cleaning. It was still in view of them both in case anything went wrong, he could keep an eye on them. Outlaw found shade not too far off, watching the three of them whilst trying to stay cool. |
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Lightbringer
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Finntello Terrence / 24 / Male / Cop / Mentions: Valencia (dir) Blake (ind.) The funny thing about red feathers was the gazes. The amount of looks and sideway glances that drew toward the startling red feathers was astounding. He assumed that he usually got looks from everyone around at least twice a day. Whether or not those were fond looks or good looks... well, that could be debated. Mostly they were not. But it was fine, Finn was alive. That was something. He was alive. But he could feel the looks--and he knew what they all said. That it was all fruitless, all pointless, none of it was going to work out at all. But he couldn't accept it. That was when it did fall, it did end. He took in a deep breath and let it out again before stifling the short burst of irritation in his chest. Finn was better than that, he ignored the looks, he reminded himself that he was alive and that was good enough. He ignored the blast. That was not his job to worry about. Not his problem. But as he scanned around the dusty and sooty remains of what had once been a town, Finn's brow furrowed. Maybe... just maybe... it wouldn't be too bad of an idea. But-- He was cut off in his thoughts by the sound of someone approaching. Valencia. Finn blinked back at her before pausing and hesitating. "W-well, to be entirely honest, I was... actually planning on going out yonder to find some sort of food and maybe water source. With wings and all," he ruffled the bright feathers and rubbed the back of his neck. It totally wasn't a ploy to escape all of the glaring looks and disappointed frowns at all. It was something to help. Finn took a brief step back, flashed Valencia a quick smile and glanced around. "Uhm... well, Blake...?" He gestured lightly, "he could probably help..." The young man took in another deep breath and another step back. One hand lifted up. "I'll be back--and I'll be safe. Don't worry." Not that they would but that was another inside thought. Finn kept a brighter outlook on things so that he didn't have to worry. If he didn't worry then maybe everything would be okay. That was it. The young man took off, sweeping his wings downward to rise upward in the air, turning to drift and scan around the surrounding remains of the forestry. In the distance, the height of the Blue Ridge Mountains stared uncaringly down on the rest of the land. The piedmont hills rose and fell, mostly sooty but there were some trees that remained upright out of sheer stubborn will. Granted, Finn was never the smartest. He knew that. But he also knew that food was food. So when he spotted a rather large flock of circling vultures, his tail feathers adjusted, sweeping his way over. Get the carcass? No. Get some vultures? That was the idea. |
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Neutral
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Nina Krakowiac - F - 22 - Mention(s): Caspian, Verruck (ind: Nicholas) ~ The movement around the area - those that Nina was meant to consider "comrades" or whatnot - finally persuaded Nina to move out and do something. Casting an annoyed glare at those who had successfully created enough noise to get her to abandon her spot against the wall - really, did they have to get her up? - she cast her eyes around, and they landed on what seemed to be a little congregation around the said explosion: Nicholas, Caspian and Verruck. Sighing briefly (and still annoyed that she had been woken up by the imbeclies who thought they knew best) she idly leaned against the wall and surveyed the three of them. Her boss of which seemed to be now... preaching morality to the imbeciles who thought the explosives would be funny. As usual, Nina came to her own conclusions without even considering other aspects. Morality. And values. She had left her values on the asphalt when her parents had left Poland, all the way back when buildings were still a thing and her parents were getting concerned for their wellbeing. She had destroyed them when she started sneaking around and seeing things that she probably shouldn't have. Well, much good that had done her. Here she was, in a ruined town and being forced to cooperate with the very people that had been trying to hunt her down. If her boss wanted morals and values, he wasn't getting them from her. She glared at his retreating back. For what good that'd do her, it at least made her feel better. Not that she cared about having morals, but - it had been days and she still questioned his directive to "rebuild the place". Dismissing him, she turned her attention to the two others. Caspian and Verruck - who seemed to be doing exactly what she was doing, which was to pointedly say, nothing at all. While she didn't really agree with the two of them, right now they definitely had the right idea of what exactly they should be doing. Not really wanting to stand there and glare at everyone forever, she decided to figure out what exactly they were doing (besides standing around and doing nothing). So there she went, slowly making her way across the landscape to the two of them. Maybe she could do something productive over there. Well, not productive per se - more of just... not having to glare at everyone that passed. Although, it was a fun pass-time hobby. |
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Darkseeker
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Caspian Cadogan | M | 28 | Mafia | Mentions: Verrück, Nina (dir.) Nicholas (indir.) Indeed, they were too preoccupied with their daft wall to bother those who couldn’t care less about rebuilding. Something he hadn’t pondered on, it was a pleasant realisation that all the pestering about this wall did mean they weren’t observed too closely. All the more opportunity to kick up a little bit of chaos, now that was always fun. “Useless fence or not, they need to be finding more food. It’s getting rough.” Caspian creased his expression, letting his hunger dictate his thoughts for a moment. It had become easier to deal with as the days went on but there was an ever present emptiness in his body. He always felt hunger. The briefest whiff of something that smelt even vaguely like food made his mouth water, practically drooling at the thought of a meal. Demeaning. His eyes snapped down at the approach of the smaller creature as it fought its way towards Verrück on unstable legs. Lips remained sealed as the pair greeted each other with an affection Verrück wasn’t often seen displaying, quite the curious display of emotion from the usually unreadable man. That being said, he did used to enjoy the company of the guard dogs. They were big beasts, a menagerie of mastiffs, doberman, rottweilers. They looked horrific with their snapping jaws and rippling muscles, but they were all big softies. It made his ribs tighten at the thought they had all probably perished, alone and scared. The dog looked up at him, caution in its eyes as it regarded him up close. He could feel the apprehension about a new person being rather close to his chosen human, but there was the soft wag of his tail that implied Caspian wasn’t about to gain a new scar. Caspian’s lips drew into a lazy grin. “Snacks? I think anyone would be my best friend if I had snacks to give out.” He chuffed out, tilting his head to look back to Verrück rather than his canine counterpart. “Futile or not, there is still fun to be had in this…well this dump.” His neck twisted to look over his shoulders at the ramshackle mismatch of destroyed buildings that they were inhabiting. “Pestering the pigs, fires, explosions.” He trailed on, but the words came slower and slower as he noticed someone walking up to them. Their path leading her straight to the pair and the furry friend. Caspian stopped his train of thought and watched with narrowed, sharp eyes as Nina stalked her way across the clearing. He knew of her, but they had not spoken much if at all. Although, she did seem to be equally uninterested in this silly rebuilding plan as he and Verrück were, so perhaps she would make good company. Perhaps even good prey for entertainment. Either way, it would be interesting. Caspian never could help himself when it came to the amorous interactions, although the hunger had subdued his usual charming comments, he still thought them. He simply lacked the energy to follow through with any of his words, so he kept quiet instead. If he had met any of these people, maybe apart from Nicholas, he would have been tossing saucy little snippets of his thoughts at them within minutes of meeting. Then again, maybe he would have done it to Nicholas as well. “Enjoying the view?” Caspian tossed his words over his shoulder towards Nina as she closed the gap between them. Clearly she was not enjoying the view, she was glaring with a harsh gaze at everything around her. That didn't stop his honestly rather daft looking smile as he spoke. “That or you’d rather do something worthwhile instead of this fence fiasco.” His once well muscled arm lifted to gesture lazily towards the half built fence, his hand pulled from his pocket before swiftly stuffing it back in. |
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Darkseeker
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Valencia Cobris-Strix | F | 29 | Mafia | Mentions: Finntello, Blake (dir.) Nicholas (indir.) Her eyes flickered towards the wings that were arching out from behind his shoulder blades as Finn spoke, only half listening considering the man had dismissed her request for help. In all reality, she didn’t care if this fence was built, it was just what the group had decided to do. Ever since her fiance’s death, she never was a leader anymore. The wolf had become the sheep after that. “That’s fine, water would be a good idea.” Valencia offered a true opinion, they were dehydrated and starving. Either water or food would be heaven sent. Fitting then, that Finn who resembled an angel might be the one to deliver it. “You be safe too, we can’t afford to lose you.” She offered in departure as the young man thrust himself skywards and turning to a small speck in the hazy blue above her. Blake.. Her head lowered and scanned the area behind her, taking a second to figure out which individual he was. She had spoken to him, obviously. Never alone, in a group debate setting mostly. It turned out that Blake had followed them towards the gas station and had begun to pull at pieces of rubble. She watched for a long moment, he was clearly irritated. Something that made the woman not want to approach too quickly for fear that he may bite her head off. Or rather, his canine might. Her long legs took her to him with ease. Valencia had grown used to the quick correctional looks at the scar she bore. She knew that it was unusual, people were bound to stare or ask questions. So any glance towards the ropes of scar tissue were ignored as she reached him as he was lugging stones away. “Do you want some help?” Valencia probed her question, her silky voice cutting through the quiet of the area. In the distance, others could be heard conversing, but this corner of the encampment was relatively secluded. Many people resided in the more homey buildings rather than this wreck. Without waiting for an answer, Valencia crouched down and wrapped her arms around a rather large collection of metal and rubble, scooping it up in her arms and lifting herself with ease. Her muscles barely struggled as she took the heaving mass with her, following Blake towards the fence nearby. While others had extra limbs and obvious mutations, Valencia woke to discover that she could crush stone with one hand. That her unarmed attacks were now deadly with minimal effort. The strength she had been gifted was accompanied by quickened reflexes, rather helpful skills in this environment. Strength to move heavy rubble and reflexes to avoid the flames and explosions of the more unruly members of their group. “How did you sleep?” God she was horrendous at small talk, what small talk was there to be had nowadays? They were all depressed, living in a wasteland with their enemies. It was dreadful. Of course he would have slept terribly. What was next, the weather? Valencia’s eyes creased gently at the embarrassment of her statement but she pushed no further in the conversation, instead letting her question hang in the air. Once they reached the fence, Valencia picked the more difficult spot higher up that needed filling to shove her cargo into. It was easier for her to do this job than other members, so at least she felt useful and not completely exhausted by the end of each day. Even if it was a scum mafia idea to build the damn thing. |
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Lightbringer
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Nicholas Accardi / 46 / Male / Mafia / M: Caspian, Verrück (ind.), Blake (dir). Nicholas could feel the disapproving glares from the other two younger men. If they wished to die, they could die elsewhere. Nicholas wasn't digging a grave nor having any funerals. That was for sentimental idiots and this man felt no such thing. Pride, respect and the way of life was what mattered most. If they were unwilling to put the work in, then so be it. But he would be dumping the bodies outside of town, letting the scavengers get to them. It was hard work that made one a true survivor. But he needed to work more on building a reliable shelter for himself--it wasn't his fault if no one else had done it yet. He was "old" by a lot of their standards. But he had survived. He paused, however, as the blond haired officer drew near and called his name. The mutt he had beside him yapping like a little rat dog. Pathetic little bugger. Why must he insist on cleaning up first? Nicholas shook his head, his icy blue eyes disappointed in the former officer. "Food and freshwater will do us no good if we are left to the elements. Where will we keep what we gather? To clean up gives us a place to store what we gather, what we find and provides shelter from the coming storms. We can scavenge and gather what little is around but... if we have no place to stay? No place to put it? Useless." But even as he had said his answer, he could see the disappointment in the man's expression as he glared back and turned on his heel, the dog following after him. Nicholas tutted softly and shook his head, moving to start clearing his own little space again. Sure, his back twinged on occasion but it was nothing. He had his piles. Metal, concrete and brick, wood, and the rest. With the metal, he used it as a sort of roof--or a ceiling. The concrete and brick was used to stabilize the walls and create shelving--which was where he usually staored any cans or bottles he could find. Those would be useful for later. The wood would be stored and used for heat in the winter and the rest... well... it was knickknacks, dishes, rugs and fabrics and whatever else he could find. It was, a bit, unusual to see Nicholas out of the chair and working. But his sleeves were rolled up, the cane set aside and he was working on moving rubble and such out of rooms and clearing spaces for more shelves. He'd often take trunks from other rooms to switch into places to keep supplies. |
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Neutral
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Verrück Aachen | M | 23 | Mafia | M: Caspian Cadogan, Nina Krakowiac (dir.), Group (ind.) ~ Verrück’s attention remained fully on Lump for a moment, his fingers continuing to ruffle the dog's fur as the sound of his stomach growled softly in the silence. He had long since grown used to the gnawing hunger that accompanied the bleak days after the collapse, but that didn’t make it any more bearable. - Verrück’s stomach growled louder, a harsh reminder of the lack of food that had been biting at him for days, and he ground his teeth. A sound that Verrück had begun to become annoyed with, it happened so often. - He crouched, lookimg down at the dirt, his fingers absentmindedly brushing against the cracked, dry earth beneath him as his mind shifted focus. His gaze narrowed, concentrating on the ground in front of him. The air around him was thick with silence, save for the distant hum of chaos and occasional whiff of ash that lingered in the air. - He had done this before, often in solitude when no one was watching. If anyone knew about his ability to coax life from the ground, it wouldn’t take long before every person in the camp was pestering him with requests. They’d want him to feed them, to provide for the community. But Verrück wasn’t interested in being anyone’s savior. So he kept it quiet, knowing how the others would cling to him for such a thing. No, it was just him and the dirt. - The faintest hum of energy pulsed through his hands as he rooted his mind into the earth, like a hidden force beneath the cracked surface. His fingers twitched, sensing the subtle vibrations, feeling the very heart of the soil stir. Slowly, a small shoot of green began to rise. At first, it was barely visible—a tiny sprout pushing its way through the dark, barren dirt. Verrück’s eyes brightened as the plant stretched upward, the thrill of the small victory warming him in the otherwise cold air. - His fingers wrapped around the small stem, pulling with a grunt of triumph. The dirt parted like it was nothing, the roots snapping with a soft crackle as the vegetable emerged. A small, scrawny carrot—the kind of humble sustenance that would never be enough for a full meal, but it would ease the hunger gnawing at him for a moment. He held it up in front of him, inspecting the root with pride. The orange hue of the carrot caught what little light there was, and for a split second, it felt like a win, something to celebrate in the wasteland of dead things. - And then— - A sudden presence to his side. Verrück spun around sharply, his hand tightening reflexively around the carrot. The shriek that escaped him was involuntary, high-pitched in its shock. His heart seemed to leap into his throat, pounding in his chest like a frantic animal trying to escape. He nearly dropped the carrot as he turned, eyes wide in alarm. - Standing right next to him, nearly materializing out of thin air, was Nina. Her form was unmistakable, like some kind of dark ghost weaving through the dust. She moved so quietly, so deliberately, that it was no wonder Verrück hadn’t heard her approach. It was unnerving, how effortlessly she seemed to slip in and out of spaces without ever drawing attention. And though he had seen her countless times before, the way she appeared without a sound still managed to jolt him. - His breath caught for a moment, the shock still lingering in his chest as he took in her presence. - "Damnit, Nina!" Verrück hissed through gritted teeth, his hand still holding the carrot in front of him, as if it might be some kind of shield against the startling encounter. His heart slowed, the initial panic ebbing away, but the irritation didn’t. He could feel the adrenaline still rushing through his veins, but he forced himself to relax, lowering the carrot and wiping a hand over his face in exasperation. “You’ve got to stop sneaking up on people like that. You’re not a ghost, you know.” - A quick glance downward told him that Lump, too, had reacted to the shock, raising his head at the sudden commotion before trotting over to his master’s side and sitting down beside him with a soft whine. Verrück ignored the dog for a moment, only to return his attention to Nina, a frustrated glare on his face. - Verrück let out a sigh, shaking his head with a smirk playing at the edges of his lips, though the faint flicker of his earlier frustration still lingered in his eyes. The brief moment of calm had been shattered, but he still had the carrot—small, humble, but something he had earned all on his own. And despite Nina’s timely appearance, a small sense of accomplishment warmed him as he gently placed the carrot back into the dirt, fingers brushing against the ground as he did so. - Lump let out a soft growl and nudged Verrück’s side, as if to remind him that he had a snack of his own. Without thinking, Verrück scratched behind the dog’s ear, trying to focus back on the moment. He snapped off part of the carrot and gave it to the dog. |
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Winter 
Day 
Blizzard
