March Test Drive Meme
Test Drive Meme #2 |
Fire and Ice ![]() ![]() Days. Four of them, to be exact. Those four days--four days and four nights--have been nothing but rain of varying intensities, but it hasn't stopped. It pours down in heavy torrents, sweeping away the grime and decay of the crumbling city. It floods the banks of the oasis and it drowns all nearby plants. To the point; it's a right pain to anyone hunting for game. Everything has taken refuge to higher grounds. Well, everything except the infected. They seem confused by this phenomenon. It rouses them from their dormant states and pushes them to be more active. If you find yourself out and about in the rain, you may want to bring a decent weapon with you and a friend to watch your back. What's worse than all that precipitation, you ask? Why would you even ask that? Haven't you seen a single horror movie? Well, since you asked; what's worse than rain is hail. How could that possibly make the situation more dire? You aren't worried about the insurance on your car, so who cares? You're sure full of dangerous questions, aren't you? Hail impacts the ground, the buildings, the cars, and the wall with a mighty raucous. The sound as it hits the pavement is deafeningly louder than the sound it makes when it impacts the waterlogged earth, slowed by the trees blocking its descent. It won't take long at all before the group of survivors holed up in the city will notice a mass of shambling Iraites beginning to congregate against the walls and gates, attracted by the noise. They're toppling over each other and pressing against the boundaries. The gate looks like it might buckle under all that weight like a dam about to burst. You might wanna do something about reinforcing that gate, or maybe even start taking out the horde if you can. There are still hunters and gatherers out in the forest. If they come back to this mess, they'll never make it into the city alive. If that's not enough trouble, you suddenly have another problem. Between the rain and the hail and the infected, a loud crack of lightning hits a tree near one of the crash sites. You can see the smoke all the way from the city and it lights up the edge of the forest. But that's so far away, how could it pose any trouble? You ask, because you obviously have a death wish. Well friend, you may recall a certain crashed shuttle in about that very direction. Such a thing is leaking some rather potent accelerant. Find a way to contain that fire or you won't have to worry about the infected anymore. You won't have to worry about much when the blaze takes out the forest and creeps through the city with a lazy hunger that cannot be sated. [Mod Note: Pick any scenario, mix and match, or combine them all into one chaotic mess of death and mayhem. Feel free to do a crash scenario from the first TDM. Enjoy~] |
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Beth Greene | The Walking Dead
She doesn't have any weapons and a quick look around the area through the rain tells her she's going to need one. She's not the cursing sort of girl but she manages to let a choice phrase slip out under her breath as she decides to try climbing up on the pod to get a better view of the area. It's not a real smart idea, she quickly realizes, because she's scraping and scrambling and can't get her footing to hoist herself up properly. She slips and hits her chin hard, crying out as she feels the skin break and blood start to pour. Great, she thinks, she's got another mark to match the others on her face.
It's right about then that the hail kicks in and she lets out a scream of frustration. Her daddy's death is always going to be the worst day of her life, but this one is going down as one of the most frustrating. "You ain't gonna win!" It's shouted to the sky, right in time for hail to hit her in the face and the walkers that were shuffling nearby to come at her running.
It doesn't take rocket science for her to figure out that she can be frustrated all she wants later. She's got to run now, and she runs as fast as her legs can carry her, never stopping until she runs right into someone bigger than she is. She cries out, praying it's not a walker. Just in case it is, she reacts accordingly, and lashes out with both fists flying. It's more of an effort to push herself away than anything, but she's so worked up and confused that her self-defense methods aren't exactly up to par with everyone else.
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The rain had already soaked him to the bone, making the black peacoat he wore hang limply over his shoulders and his black mock-turtle cling to his chest pretty tightly. Short hair got plastered to his head, as well. He looked about as water-logged as one could be without drowning in it. Off his shoulders were the straps of a backpack similar to the one Beth found.
When he was down and caught his breath, and managed to get a good look at her, the glare he'd had softened into surprise and worry, "Uh... Shit. Sorry. You okay, lass?"
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"Daryl?"
No, not Daryl. The voice didn't match and the face was too young. Whoever this was could've been his younger brother, or passed as a twin once upon a time. As it was, it was shocking enough to make her eyes widen even more, and she was grateful it likely looked like she was afraid of that knife of his. She nodded soon enough in response to his question, and moved to pick herself up to stand once again. She was soaked through and now muddy, and she really didn't want to meet a young, Irish Daryl lookalike looking like a drowned rat.
"I'll be real good once you put that knife away. I'm not gonna hurt you."
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"Oh... sorry," he said, clearly distracted and surprised by it. Though he didn't actually put it away until after he'd rolled to the side and pushed himself up so he could stand. A stand that was accompianied by a small bounce on the balls of his feet as he got righted. And then the knife was put away.
Murphy put on a smile. Clearly a nervous one, uncertain because really, he didn't know what the hell was going on. But he was trying to be friendly as he held his hand out in greeting, "Name's Murphy. You don't happen to know how the fuck I got here do you?"
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She urged him to follow her into the forest, because she sure as hell heard the telltale sound of walkers approaching at a rate that was much faster than walking. She hadn't ever experienced that before, and the urgency of needing to run scared the hell out of her.
"Come on, follow me!"
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"You mean there aren't any walkers where you're from? Dead people don't get back up and try to eat the living ones?"
The fact that he was happy to protect her put a smile on her face, even when she was trying to tell him something serious. The smile was short lived, however, as the walkers came into sight and she pointed them out with a frown. She didn't have to describe them to let him know they were dead folks that were up and moving around and meant them harm. It was obvious to tell by the look of them.
"If you've never fought something like 'em before, you gotta give me that knife and I can do it. You'll get hurt." And she wasn't about to let him get hurt trying to protect her from something she had experience fighting.
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Except she wasn't laughing, was she? She looked damn serious. Particularly as her gaze drifted from him and to the figures coming out of the trees. The darkness of the day did little to hide their shambling appearance and the smile faded from Murphy's face. He stood there, completely dumbfounded for a long moment. Too long, really.
Even as he was raising his hand to point at them in shock, the group had spotted them and were moving in.
"What the fu-" his question was cut off as the closest lunged for him. Murphy jumped out of the way, knocking into Beth as he tried to get behind her, forgetting for the moment that he'd offered to protect her. "The fuck is going on?"
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She hadn't ever had someone jump behind her for protection before. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but knew she had to leap into action. She brought her arm out to keep him behind her, and used all of her strength to extend her leg forward in a thrust and shatter the walker's knee. It brought it down but these ones were faster and more determined than she was used to, and it just kept on coming by scraping its way forward.
She backed the both of them up, using another thrust of her leg to try and snap the other one's knee. They could keep coming at them but if they were both incapacitated it would make what she had to do easier.
"Give me the knife!" It was a definite order now, and she held out her hand for him to put the knife in it. If he wouldn't hand it over right way, she had no problem ripping it out of his hand and using it.
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They lunged again and the girl put herself between him and the dead fucker and Murphy started muttering prayers to the good lord under his breath even as he crossed himself. Between doing that and scrambling for the knife, he was kept pretty well occupied as the girl broke it's fucking knee.
"Holy shit."
He jerked the knife out of the hip sheath he'd stuck it in and handed it over without any further hesitation. While he felt no shame at that moment in hiding behind a girl, had his brother been around, he was certain he'd be on receiving end of some very apropos insults to his masculinity. Honestly, he would have been perfectly happy to suffer through those if it meant Connor was there to hide behind as well. But he was good with the girl.
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The second she had the knife secure in her hand she moved forward to attack. She took all that she had been taught and observed over the years and used it to make quick work out of the walkers. The first one with the shattered knee was easy to stab through the head, but she managed to get the knife stuck. It took both hands to tug it out and she did with a grunt, the momentum of the effort enough to help her spin about and stab again. The knife went through the second walker's throat, and she quickly retracted the blade, trying to aim for the head. She sliced through it's cheek and she had to be fast to retract her hand so she wasn't bit. There was a shout as it was a close call, and as her adrenaline rushed she managed to hit the right angle to strike it through the temple.
She removed the knife and wordlessly moved on ahead, trembling head to toe and looking shaken.
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"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!" his face broke out in a grin and he came up to her back, hands going to one of her shoulders as he hopped around in unconstrained excitement. Unconciously preventing her from easily leaving the area. "Holy shit! I mean... you just... and bam! Right in the head! Fuck yeah! You are fucking badass!"
He took a deep breath, chest rising with a heavy heave before he started to giggle softly, "Holy fucking shit."
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"You really think I'm badass?" Her laughter bubbled forth until she was downright giddy with giggles and had to lean forward and brace herself with her hands on her knees. It took her some time but she got the joy out of her eventually, and stood up so she could look him right in the eye as she grinned.
"Well, I think I'm gonna keep you around for a while, Murphy. No one's ever thought I was badass before." She knew that was because she always had to be protected. It felt nice being the one doing the protecting for a change.
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When it came crashing out of the surrounding trees and into his side, pushing at him, Daryl reacted on instinct and put his modified nerf bow between himself and his attacker. A hard push would send what he assumed was a walker sprawling and in the next moment he had the bow up and aimed squarely at-
"...Beth?"
Her name escaped him like the whine of a puppy that had just been kicked: tiny, sad, desperate, and confused.
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Her wrist was stinging and causing her all kinds of discomfort, which led to her taking a moment to pull it in close to her chest. She didn't take her eyes off of him, knowing that Daryl with a weapon pointed wasn't something to take lightly. He was the best hunter and fighter she knew, and right now he was looking at her like she was a walker that broke his heart to see. Like she was that little girl of Carol's in the barn back on the farm. Only difference was, she wasn't a little girl any more and she wasn't dead. She was alive enough to feel her heart racing in her chest and see that bow pointed right at her.
Her breathing became heavy and she focused her eyes on that weapon, until she realized what it was. And then she laughed, loud and clear and out of place with their surroundings. That laughter quickly turned to a look of confusion, and she turned her eyes back up on his face. She looked completely serious no matter how confused about all this she was. "Daryl, are you really gonna shoot me with a girl's toy?"
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Daryl's eyes swept from one side to the other, looking for walkers. Not that he expected he'd be able to see them when he was like this. That usually came after he had the heart to heart with his personal demons. Ghosts. Whatever.
He gulped hard, but didn't lower his bow, eyes narrowing through the obvious pain the sight of her brought, "Yeah. I might."
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"Stop looking at me like that. Like I'm a living dead girl. I ain't, I'm right here!"
The fact that he didn't lower that silly weapon of his made her afraid, but she sure as heck wasn't going to show it. Hunters fed on fear, and she wasn't going to let herself be afraid anymore. She was a Greene, and she was only half as strong as Maggie, but she could be just as stubborn as her Daddy when she put her mind to it. And right now, she had put her mind to being stubborn, refusing to cower or run away.
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"No you ain't," he growled, jaw tightening. Hatred for the sight of her, for the way his mind was playing tricks on him when he had people to watch out for, visible in his eyes.
She wasn't real. She wasn't there. He knew that. She was probably a walker. Stuck in the mud where she'd fallen and trying to get up. One with blond hair and a frame still meaty enough to pass for living. Maybe he'd been getting pelted too hard by the hail and just hadn't realized how much they'd been addling him. And this, this vision of her, this ghost, was his punishment for foolishness.
But as much as he wanted to release the string, set one of those arrows right into her eyes, he couldn't bring himself to. The only good walker was a dead walker, right? Except his head was playing with him and he knew he couldn't really bring himself to fire. She'd been dead in his arms once already, he didn't want to see it again. He had to wait until he saw the walker underneath. Had to wait it out.
Bow at the ready. Eyes hard.
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"Put that thing down." Her voice trembled as she ordered him to put the weapon down, and she wanted nothing more than to go over and rip it out of his hands and throw it to the ground. She didn't think he'd react very well to her doing that so she kept her distance and tried talking reason into him instead.
"Please, Daryl. Just see me. It's Beth, right here in front of you. You don't wanna shoot me."
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"Stay where you are and shut the hell up."
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"No," she softly told him, shaking her head. "I ain't going anywhere, Daryl. Whatever's going on here, you need me. And I'm gonna help you, just like you helped me."
She brought her hands up to show him she meant no harm, and took a moment to bring her hands to her shirt and raise it up enough that he saw she didn't have a weapon hidden in her waistband either. She was unarmed, and he was acting like she meant him all the damn harm in the world. How could he ever get to the point of thinking that?
"Last thing I remember, I was at the hospital. Dawn, she - "
She stopped there, confusion showing. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, despite the never ending rain, and she licked at her lips. "Then I woke up here, just now, in some kind of pod. Felt more like a coffin, if you ask me. Busted my chin on it and everything. There's walkers out there, fast moving ones, and that's why I ran into you like I did. I don't have anything to fight them with. Not like you with your -" Toy. "You know."
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"Shut up," this time it wasn't an order. It was a plea. He was begging her to stop. To go away.
He couldn't even shoot the damn walker that was obviously advancing on him. He knew it was there. It had to be. But it was wearing her face. And he'd already seen that face blown open by a gun he'd been too slow to stop. He couldn't see it again. He couldn't be the one to cause it.
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She stared over at him, eyes burning with tears as heartbreak slowly crossed over her features. She wasn't sure how to fix him, how to make whatever was wrong better. That was what her job was, what she prided herself in being able to do. She'd never be one of the fighters, like Daryl or Rick was. She was the nurturer, the one who took care of everyone else. And right now, she had been rendered useless.
"Daryl, please." She pleaded with him in return, voice cracking.
"Don't make me go away. I don't have anywhere else to go."
And before she had time to deliberate with herself over whether or not it was a good idea, she was rushing forward. She tried to wrap her arms around him in a hug, something tight and a silent plea for him to not turn her out after she had found him again.
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He knew she'd probably just show up again. Follow after. It wasn't like he could run from the ghosts of his own mind. But he couldn't just stay there with a walker he couldn't bring himself to kill, either.
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