TOGGLE CBOX
zIFBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Enjoy forums? Start your own community for free.


  LOCKEDNEW TOPICNEW POLL

 it's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A., (but not anymore, BEAU.)
MISSY RAE WALKER
Posted: Mar 21 2012, 04:43 PM


Unregistered









hello hellolittle miss sunshineOnce upon a time, the YMCA had probably been bustling and fresh and entertaining.That time was probably in the eighties.The first thing that Missy Rae noticed was the smell. It was like someone had left a dead fish in a newspaper for three weeks, and then dipped it in some delicate mixture of horse manure, cow manure, sheep manure, and probably some human feces as well. Really, it was a scent that a filthy, muddy barnyard would have difficulties pulling off. It wasn't that surprising to find that the YMCA couldn't pull it off to save itself. Then again, a building usually didn't have to work a fashion, especially not when the fashion it would be working was one that was so incredibly... dated.Alright, I've put it off long enough. Resettling her backpack on her shoulder, she pulled the mask (taken from the home improvement store down the road) up over her face and stepped into the dark. It wasn't likely that she would find much in terms of supplies, but there was a chance that she would get lucky. And, if all else failed, there was always a likelihood she could take a few zombies down. For now her borrowed Glock was in her bag, but she had her uncle's old rifle in her hands, and despite the limited ammo, she was more or less itching to use it.Tip-toeing through the halls -- somewhat of a feat when wearing pumps -- she investigated the small, outdated boarding rooms. Most had a few corpses in them, but until the last handful there wasn't much else. Even then, when she did find something, it wasn't anything useful; it was rather the opposite. The door creaked when she opened it, and that was what drew the walker's attention. It was already staggering its way towards her, groaning and half-reaching for her, by the time she had fully opened the door. Calmly, ignoring the absolute panic that came from seeing a dear person walking about, she pulled her rifle up, aimed down the sights, and squeezed off a round.The sound was almost deafening in the small room, though the way the zombie's head snapped back was satisfying enough that the loud noise was very much worth it. Later, if it turned out that the noise had drawn more zombies, she might be less satisfied, but for now it made the otherwise boring search more interesting.Making her way back out into the sunshine, Missy Rae considered the street before her. Where to next?created by kayjay of damn dead bastards
^^^
BEAU LANDRY
Posted: Mar 22 2012, 12:07 AM


27 | VENTURE
Group Icon

Group: TARGET PRACTICE
Posts: 62
Member No.: 1,097
Joined: 18-March 12





Day seven. You know, when you got lost for any length at a time, you typically expected it to be somewhere inhospitable and wild, with trees you'd wind up walking in circles around and animals lurking around keeping you up at night. Trust us, Beau had been there once or twice, when his hunting trips had taken a few more days than he'd planned. Of course, that usually meant no more than five days lost in the woods, or wherever else. This was an entirely different situation, however. Instead of worrying about what animals were lurking about his camp at night, he was worrying about what undead, ugly mother fuckers were lurking around - day and night. And what was he hunting? Not deer or squirrel (though he had ran into a hog), but instead, stray canned goods and clothes and equipment. In short: fuck this.

Luckily, while there seemed to be walkers infesting just about everywhere, there was plenty of places to haul up for a nigh if you knew where to look - or if, like Beau, you just knew how to handle them. The stench was awful, sure, but in retrospect, not a bad thing to hide behind. There was so much stench of the dead that in the few instances he'd come across them in the halls, they hadn't even noticed. Walking up behind them and hooking his pick axe in the backs of their skulls was all too easy. He could have sworn that after an hour or two of poking around, he'd gotten rid of every last one of them - though that was something you could never be entirely sure of.

Still, he felt safe. Mostly.

Safe enough to explore, and safe enough, certainly, to indulge in the store of water bottles he'd found in the depths of the building. Namely: bathing. Shirt and jacket hung up on the peg on the door of the shower stall (which, he had found, had a very much dead corpse in the stall next to), he was taking his sweet time scrubbing the water into his skin. Running water was a lost cause, but having enough water to bathe with at all seemed like a luxury after God-knew-how-long. One after another, he let the empty bottles drop to the floor, humming to himself as he went about his way - because that's what people did when they felt comfortable, they hummed.

Suddenly though, the silence was broken by the most familiar and most frightening thing he could think to name - a gunshot. He'd seen the way those things could be drawn to a spot from just a scream, but a gun? God-fucking-forbid he get caught in the building with the idiot that fired a Goddamn gun. In a flash, he'd grabbed for that grungy wife-beater he called a shirt and tugged it on over his head, never minding the fact that it was clinging (more than usual). He grabbed for the denim jacket, swearing under his breath silently as he slipped it over his shoulders as slipped from the stall, hooking an arm on the sling of his backpack and, as always, grabbing at the handle of the pick axe - which after seven days stuck in the city had become his best friend in the world. Silently as he could despite the sight squish of his boots, Beau stormed from the building.

He turned the pick axe over again and again in his hand as he marched, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed to slits. Finally, he broke through the front doors of the building and into the street, sun streaming down to blind him. Well, almost blind - he could see the woman's silhouette through the light streaming past the buildings. And oh, that pick axe was just burning a hole in his hand. "Hey!" He'd spat the words out in a growl, clearly not having formed a Goddamn word aside from it. Hell, he didn't care - he wasn't good with words. Never had been.

PM@
^^^
MISSY RAE WALKER
Posted: Mar 22 2012, 06:24 PM


Unregistered









when she walks bypink ladyI wonder if there's a hair salon anywhere near-by. Missy Rae had her priorities, and they were ordered exactly as need-be. There was plenty of food at camp, and Hell would freeze over before she dragged any sizable amount of water back. Lips pursed in thought, her rifle slung over her shoulder, Missy Rae looked less than the delicate flower her upbringing had striven to turn her into. Smoothing a stray curl of hair back, using her sunglasses as a hairband of sorts, and pulling the simple mask down off of her face, she managed to regain some of the elegance she strove for. It was admittedly a losing battle, but the habitual movements helped her thought process. A salon first, and then she would scrounge about for any supplies. It was an excuse that was wearing thin (it had been worn thin on the first day she had used it) but admitting that she was going 'shopping' for hair spray and the like would hardly fly.After six months of the whole 'living with zombies' thing, even being relatively 'safe' in the Area 9 compound, Missy Rae's reaction to a somewhat squelchy step and what at first sounded like a growl was to turn on her not-quite-sensible heel and aim her rifle at the ... man? He certainly didn't look dead, at any rate. Given the moment to process, her brain told her that he had spoken, too. That meant he wasn't dead, though it certainly didn't promise no violence -- in fact, his posture and the pick in his hand certainly did the opposite."I wouldn't take another step if I was you, sugar." It was a polite enough warning, and might have even bordered on pleasant, regardless of the man's surly manner. Just because he was acting like a bear with its paw in a trap didn't mean that she couldn't at least attempt to be pleasant. In fact, she would be as gosh-darn sweet as jam, just to point out how he was acting. "Now is there anything I could help with you, sir?" A true Southern lady is always respectful, regardless of age, color, or status.ooc | short yeyzcreated by kayjay of damn dead bastards
^^^
BEAU LANDRY
Posted: Mar 22 2012, 11:11 PM


27 | VENTURE
Group Icon

Group: TARGET PRACTICE
Posts: 62
Member No.: 1,097
Joined: 18-March 12





Oh, where the hell were his manners? To think, a boy that had grown up in a mobile home, on the road and chaperoned by a drunkard of a man that spent the better half of their time not on the road in sleazy motels. Gee, I wonder where those manners of his could have slipped off to - there were any number of places he could have left them, from back at the motel he'd left his father at, all the way back to Parks when the baby had been taken away from the place. Manners were a foreign concept to the nomad, but considering he'd hardly spent any time around people, it was to be expected. He drifted in and out of peoples lives like smoke, hardly ever getting asked his name along the way and, should an altercation arise, never sticking around long enough for it to become a problem. The apocalypse wouldn't make things any different, he'd insisted, but then, that was days ago.

Still, this woman was already proving to be a sugary sweet pain in the ass.

With his eyes rolling back into his head, he moved to put his weight into the pick axe, leaning forward as casually as possible and doing what he could to come off as non-threatening - which was quite a feat for the man. His shirt was stained with coagulated blood and brain matter, dirt, oil, muck, sweat and grime, his jacket no better for the wear. The impromptu shower hadn't helped much other than to scrub a good 40% of the filth from his skin, leaving the grease still clinging to his hair and the water to roll off it like downpour on a duck. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, almost as if to relax himself, but let's just agree that that wasn't possible. The man was far too tightly wound these days.

"You can start by putting that thing the hell away - what are you, stupid?" He was hardly making a very good case, seeing as he didn't sound particularly bright himself (and that was after fifteen words), but that didn't seem to phase him any. He gave the street a quick look over before once again going back to staring down the barrel of the gun, keeping his eyes on the pair of them - the woman and her precious rifle.

PM@
^^^
MISSY RAE WALKER
Posted: Mar 23 2012, 05:55 PM


Unregistered









when she walks bypink ladyOh, he hadn't just said that... had he? Missy Rae had half a mind to shoot him anyways, just to get back for his rudeness. But, no, that would ruin the pleasant persona she had adopted. Instead she gave him the smile that had won her the Little Miss Mississippi competition and put the gun 'away' - rather, she lowered the gun, clicked the safety on, and held it cradled in her arms. Who was this man? Oh, she wasn't wondering about his name - that would be a nice tidbit to know, but names didn't tell all that much about a person. Her ears told her that he was probably from the same general area as she was (though 'general' was a pretty broad term). He looked like he hadn't honestly showered in a while, but at the same time he looked rather wet. Dripping, really. Why is it that it's only women who have those wet T-shirt contests? The thought popped up rather uninvited, but it wasn't quite unwelcome. Really, the man, whomever he was, would probably clean up rather nicely. Assuming, of course, that his manners were included in the cleaning up."I'm certain I misheard you, but never mind that. Your name would be...? Mine is Missy Rae, Missy Rae Walker. There wouldn't happen to be running water in that old building, would there? That would be simply wonderful!" It didn't matter that there was running water back at the camp. If there was a source that she could use more often than every three days - really, who could feel clean with that shower schedule? - then she would absolutely adore using it as long as it lasted. Selfish of her? Of course. But in the real world, people had to look out for themselves, and that was all the more true in this real world.The water wasn't the only reason for that line of questioning, though. Really it was just small talk, conversation to fill the space and time. Not, possibly, the the most intelligent of ideas when standing in a street that could be filled with zombies at any point. But Missy Rae's curiosity was roused, and she would rather be here in the street where the light was decent rather than follow the man to wherever it was he was staying to question him there. It also wasn't as though he could take him back to A9. Thinking of the reaction that would get made the Belle's smile a little more real. Her mirth didn't lessen her readiness to raise her rifle if needed, of course.created by kayjay of damn dead bastards
^^^
BEAU LANDRY
Posted: Mar 26 2012, 09:29 AM


27 | VENTURE
Group Icon

Group: TARGET PRACTICE
Posts: 62
Member No.: 1,097
Joined: 18-March 12





Of course, he was well aware of the fact that he seemed to be being particularly brutish today, but could you blame him? He was in no mood. Filthy and hungry and now, wet and cold, he wasn't about to bother being concerned with a stupid thing like manners. Anyone that pointed a gun in his face lost that right pretty quickly - because contrary to redneck lore it wasn't something he was all that familiar, nor comfortable with. The other end was much more comfortable, wasn't it? He could shoot, alright - things, mostly, from hunting and trying to get by and just plain damn practice, before the world had gone to hell and the sound of a gunshot ringing out stirred those things like a nest of bees. In the six months since the end of the world, he'd fired one bullet - one bullet into the head of a man on his knees and begging for a little bit of a mercy, so he put him down. It had sat with him just fine until those things had shambled from the bushes.

The fact that nothing had shown up yet seemed all the more daunting.

"Of course there ain't running water," he spat, putting his weight forward on his heel with an eyebrow quirking. What the hell was she playing at? Call him crazy but he'd never been a fan of introductions, and the apocalypse hadn't changed that. Not a whole lot of people took you seriously when you went from that, in all its James Dean swag, pick axe wielding glory, to Beau - sweet and darling and absolutely precious. No, he didn't enjoy the sound of his own voice, let alone his own name having to come from any source. At least, not the way this Missy Rae seemed to enjoy hearing it, and saying it, and talking by the sound of it. For a man that usually said so little, there were an awful lot of rather nasty words coming to mind.

His eyes rolled in his head as he took a look up and down, back and forth, this way and that around the street, keeping an ear out and biting at the inside of his lip. No, he wasn't taking chances. He took a few long, quick strides up towards the woman, gritting his teeth in a false smile and dripping with false cheer. "Name's Beau, and I'm sure it'd be a real pleasure, Missy Rae," he let the words roll from his tongue with a small smirk, "But I'm more int'rested in getting the fuck out of here."

PM@
^^^
MISSY RAE WALKER
Posted: Apr 2 2012, 10:00 PM


Unregistered









let me hear you flow sisterslady marmaladeNow wasn't necessarily the best time to be sitting and gabbing in the street, but hell if Missy Rae would run off just because a few zombies might be poking about soon. Civilized conversation should never be rushed - even though this would hardly count as civilized conversation. The belle spared a moment of thought to regret the various social games that had been lost since the whole 'zombie apocalypse' thing had occurred, but then she mentally squared her shoulders (she already had excellent posture) and brought her mind back to the present. She was reasonably certain that she wasn't in danger from her new 'friend', and her stance reflected that, as she stood at ease as he spoke."No need to be nasty about it, honey, a simple 'no ma'am' would have more than sufficed." Really, he was as prickly as a porcupine or a bear with a paw in a trap. Would it kill him, she wondered, to be the least bit polite? Regardless, she still smiled, still spoke with a perky tone. "I would appreciate cleaner language, Beau darlin'. You're right, though. Silly little me, talking in the street. We should go." Frankly, this was a little bit of fun. She couldn't act like this with the other A9'ers; when you lived in close proximity group peace was important. With strangers though, anything was fair game. Missy Rae was taking advantage of that, working out any unpleasantness out of her system while simultaneously making 'friends'. A good day, even if zombies did show up to ruin things."Let's head back to your place. Mine is too far away and besides I don't think you'd be let in." No, she knew that he wouldn't be let in, but it was a little less rude to add the maybe to the question. It didn't occur to her (well, of course it really did) that maybe now would be a good time to offer a tip of the hat and head off back to Area Nine. She knew that Beau was probably wanting to go off without her, as he hadn't exactly been very personable about the whole encounter, but Missy Rae had made up her mind, and neither Heaven nor Hell could change it. They were now a 'we', regardless of if she was the only one who knew it. created by kayjay of damn dead bastards
^^^
BEAU LANDRY
Posted: Apr 5 2012, 08:51 AM


27 | VENTURE
Group Icon

Group: TARGET PRACTICE
Posts: 62
Member No.: 1,097
Joined: 18-March 12





He was a prickly person. That was a fact. But this Missy Rae woman seemed just a little too sweet, to the point of being a cavity. It would certainly explained why his jaw hurt so very bad at the moment - but that could have been the fact that he just couldn't seem to unclench the damn thing and breathe without feeling like there was fire in his lungs. If she planned on killing him with kindness, it was looking like it would work, but the stubborn fool insisted otherwise, giving his knuckles a quick crack to relieve the tension building. Next it was his neck, head ticking to the side with a soft snapping sound. It seemed like with every little pop of a joint, a bit of that heat spat out.

While Missy was busy getting annoyed at his abismal manners (or, complete lack thereof), Beau was busy getting annoyed at her for having them in the first place. Sure, he could say please and thank you and hold doors for old people, and he never swore around kids, but a grown woman, in the apocalypse? Fat chance. There wouldn't be any more debutante balls nor fancy parties - lord knew what people that took part in society got up to, anyway. "Ya can appreciate it all ya want darlin' but it ain't gonna fuckin' happen." The words rolled off his tongue with a twitch of a smirk. "And I sure as shit ain't about ta call ya ma'am," he added, almost as an after thought, with his eyes rolling back in his head. He didn't like the way she spoke to him and he certainly didn't like the way she called him darling and -- go?

He wrinkled his nose in distaste as the thought ran through his brain. To think, he'd just wanted to get away from her, and here she was, proposing they go together. Or, more matter of factly, to his place. He let out a short, bitter laugh, rolling his head back, "That'd be a hell of a lot easier if I knew where that was." Thank you, universe, for the reminder of his complete and utterly lost-ness. He gave his head a slow shake, turning heel and hooking the pick axe over his shoulder. "I hear the housing market isn't what it used to be." Starting down the street, he stole a glance over his shoulder, almost as if to ask, Are you coming or not?

PM@
^^^
0 User(s) are reading this topic (0 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you

TOPIC OPTIONS LOCKEDNEW TOPICNEW POLL



Hosted for free by zIFBoards* (Terms of Use: Updated 2/10/2010) | Powered by Invision Power Board v1.3 Final © 2003 IPS, Inc.
Page creation time: 2.0581 seconds | Archive