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week 6
WEEK 6
!home, home on the range
Last week’s events have understandably driven the group off the intended course — so this week will be about righting your little forest-beach-detour.
However, it seems the rain that began at the tail end of last week hasn’t quite let up yet. Mercifully(?), the worst of the storm looks to be over, which means the party will only have to be mildly soggy instead of fighting for their lives against daunting sheets of rain.
Perhaps due to a combination of poor weather, overexertion, and lingering germs in any of the places everyone’s been traveling through, Leontuzzo Bellone and Mark Grayson come down with the flu.
Covering a wide area of land between the lighthouse and the next marked place on the map are a series of abandoned farms and vineyards. Fruit trees and grapevines have all been left to grow (and overgrow) naturally, and with the party passing through at the height of summer, there are plenty of fresh peaches and grapes to be plucked from the foliage on the way. The rain has made the ground muddy and sticky, which may lead to some unfortunate falls…but maybe it’s worth it for a tasty treat.
Also in the abandoned farms are, of course, farmhouses and barns. There are stray farm animals here and there who have happened to survive through sheer luck, though there are no human inhabitants. No living ones, anyway: there are only skeletons, telling the tale that people died here long ago, perhaps of natural causes. One can only hope they did not succumb to the virus as so many others have. There are medicine cabinets inside the houses that have standard things like painkillers, cough syrup, and things of that nature, so it might be a good time to stock up.
As characters linger in the farms, they’ll also notice another side effect of their bracelets: throughout the entire week, they’ll be empathically linked to the other survivors, being able to feel their emotions as strongly as they would feel their own.
However, it seems the rain that began at the tail end of last week hasn’t quite let up yet. Mercifully(?), the worst of the storm looks to be over, which means the party will only have to be mildly soggy instead of fighting for their lives against daunting sheets of rain.
Perhaps due to a combination of poor weather, overexertion, and lingering germs in any of the places everyone’s been traveling through, Leontuzzo Bellone and Mark Grayson come down with the flu.
Covering a wide area of land between the lighthouse and the next marked place on the map are a series of abandoned farms and vineyards. Fruit trees and grapevines have all been left to grow (and overgrow) naturally, and with the party passing through at the height of summer, there are plenty of fresh peaches and grapes to be plucked from the foliage on the way. The rain has made the ground muddy and sticky, which may lead to some unfortunate falls…but maybe it’s worth it for a tasty treat.
Also in the abandoned farms are, of course, farmhouses and barns. There are stray farm animals here and there who have happened to survive through sheer luck, though there are no human inhabitants. No living ones, anyway: there are only skeletons, telling the tale that people died here long ago, perhaps of natural causes. One can only hope they did not succumb to the virus as so many others have. There are medicine cabinets inside the houses that have standard things like painkillers, cough syrup, and things of that nature, so it might be a good time to stock up.
As characters linger in the farms, they’ll also notice another side effect of their bracelets: throughout the entire week, they’ll be empathically linked to the other survivors, being able to feel their emotions as strongly as they would feel their own.
city escape
Once the group passes through farm country, you’ve finally made it to the outskirts of your destination, San Francisco. The map seems to suggest that you should travel along the east outskirts of the town along the bay, rather than directly through it — similar to how the party had stayed to the edges of Los Angeles.
Hordes here are similar to the ones in LA, though with the added difficulty that San Francisco is very hilly. Groups of zombies will chase the survivors uphill and downhill: they seem to have limitless stamina, so running up the hills and hoping for the best isn’t the best strategy. Conversely, they run full speed down the steep declines of San Francisco roads, which can lead to them completely wiping and possibly knocking you down with them.
Several zombies are also special: of the zombies that attack downhill, a handful have retained enough intelligence to simply stand or sit on abandoned skateboards and bikes, which increases their speed greatly. Of the zombies that prefer to attack uphill, they’ve learned that throwing anything they can find at their prey may slow them down — pieces of glass, bricks, and even shoes might be thrown at the survivors.
Henry Townshend attracts the attention of zombies in these hilly zones, forcing the need for a City Escape™.
Hordes here are similar to the ones in LA, though with the added difficulty that San Francisco is very hilly. Groups of zombies will chase the survivors uphill and downhill: they seem to have limitless stamina, so running up the hills and hoping for the best isn’t the best strategy. Conversely, they run full speed down the steep declines of San Francisco roads, which can lead to them completely wiping and possibly knocking you down with them.
Several zombies are also special: of the zombies that attack downhill, a handful have retained enough intelligence to simply stand or sit on abandoned skateboards and bikes, which increases their speed greatly. Of the zombies that prefer to attack uphill, they’ve learned that throwing anything they can find at their prey may slow them down — pieces of glass, bricks, and even shoes might be thrown at the survivors.
Henry Townshend attracts the attention of zombies in these hilly zones, forcing the need for a City Escape™.
fisherman's wharf + pier 39
Towards the end of the week, as characters continue taking the long way around San Francisco, they’ll eventually end up at the northeastern section of the city. More specifically, Pier 39, and the harbors it borders.
Here, after all the rain and gloom, the weather is a bit clearer, allowing characters to look out into the bay and see some marine wildlife that has kept away from the virus; there are hundreds of sea lions and seagulls here, though because they stay down on the rocks below the pier, the sounds of waves crashing drown out their incessant barking.
There are a number of abandoned shops here, and similar to the mall the group traversed weeks ago, many of the stores seem to be looted, but there are still goodies to be found here and there. With the wide variety of goods, from music boxes to candy to jewelry, there’s sure to be something that tugs on the heartstrings you’re all sharing this week.
Take a look around, find a souvenir, and maybe pick what store you’re going to be camping out in for the night?
This week, Ninety-Nine is infected.
Here, after all the rain and gloom, the weather is a bit clearer, allowing characters to look out into the bay and see some marine wildlife that has kept away from the virus; there are hundreds of sea lions and seagulls here, though because they stay down on the rocks below the pier, the sounds of waves crashing drown out their incessant barking.
There are a number of abandoned shops here, and similar to the mall the group traversed weeks ago, many of the stores seem to be looted, but there are still goodies to be found here and there. With the wide variety of goods, from music boxes to candy to jewelry, there’s sure to be something that tugs on the heartstrings you’re all sharing this week.
Take a look around, find a souvenir, and maybe pick what store you’re going to be camping out in for the night?
This week, Ninety-Nine is infected.
no subject
[ In the forest, she'd tried to figure out which berries were poisonous through trial and error, but aside from that, there wasn't much of anything edible. The gas station at the lighthouse had had scraps, which she had dug through when she mustered up the will to brave the sheets of rain. ]
But I did save this for you before.
[ She digs around in her pocket before producing a chocolate bar with almonds in it, more substantial than candy alone on account of the extra protein. Food has been scarce among the party, and while she's been doing her best to share and scavenge for everyone, she still holds on to a number of things for Ninety-Nine alone. Not because she wants it to be a secret or to hoard food away from everyone else, but because she alone understands Ninety-Nine's needs, and she would hate for anyone else to start thinking of her as a burden because of the extra upkeep. She'd rather handle it herself, than get anyone else involved.
Since she can feel Ninety-Nine patting her around for food, combined with her knowing how unending Ninety-Nine's appetite is, offering some to her is more like a reflex than a conscious thought: ]
Wanna share it?
no subject
And Hella will get suspicious if she starts turning down perfectly good sweets when they're offered to her, won't she? In the end, Ninety-Nine just smiles, her usual trusting acceptance of Hella's words plain in her features and words.]
Okay, let's share it.
[With their heights mostly evened out, her face is nearly level with Hella's head while she waits for her to unwrap the chocolate. Simply, wordlessly, she presses her face to her hair, careful to avoid her injuries and the scent of fresh blood wafting from them, and nuzzles her there. If she could make how cherished she is any clearer, she'd do it, but maybe the bracelets are doing some good for a change.]
🧍♂️
Hehe... my god, you're being so cute! My adorable little Ninety-Nine...
[ Much as she can at this angle, she presses against her face with her head, wishing her hands were free so she could give her a hug. Belatedly, Hella realizes that... she needed this. Being close to Ninety-Nine makes everything feel a little less hard and a little less bleak. They've always made it so long as they were together, she just needs to keep believing that. Her own feelings swell to match her companion's, seemingly bottomless affection and protectiveness emanating from her. Her love for Ninety-Nine is just as Ninety-Nine pictures her: sunny, bright, warm, overwhelming.
Breaking the chocolate bar so that she gets a third and Ninety-Nine will get the rest, she stuffs her part of the chocolate bar in her mouth to hold it before breaking off a tiny square from Ninety-Nine's piece, holding it up to her playfully. ]
Say ahh...
no subject
Ah. [They've done this before, so Ninety-Nine is familiar with the practice. Even then, her performance is a little more deadpan. Playfulness doesn't usually come out in her tone or her expression, which makes it a little easier to hide that her mind is elsewhere, that her back is pooling with sweat and streaks of heavy, tar-like blood.]
no subject
Leaning back to take her bar out of her mouth, she chews thoughtfully, glad for the overall gloom so that the chocolate isn't too melty. ]
It's good, huh? [ She asks with her mouth half full, unwrapping more of Ninety-Nine's piece and holding the larger bar up to her so she can take a big bite if so desired. ] We can find something else after this, I bet.
[ As she talks, there's a little twinkle near her cheek as her healing pushes out another tiny shard of glass, not unlike how Ninety-Nine's body expels bullets after a while. Hella doesn't notice outside of brushing the tiny thing away and off her clothes thoughtlessly. ]
Then I can give you the last cold pack. What do you think?
[ There's only so much downtime they get... and it might actually do some good now, instead of immediately becoming useless against her skin right after a fight.
no subject
...It isn't like they do much when the fever is so deep and persistent in her veins and the pain cooks her from the inside, but the cold packs mean so much when they've been dug up from the wreckage of society and when they come as a gift from Hella's hands. There's no violence around them right now, but her temperature remains at a steady elevation. It's unlikely her fever will ever truly recede at this point. She nods silently so the gesture can be felt against the side of Hella's head, her mouth full of a much bigger bite of chocolate.
To a regular person, her emotions might feel cyclical, disjointed, overbearing. Hella might not be the root of her obsession, but she's become entangled in it. It's easy with them because she doesn't need to explain the mess, the way her feelings chase their own tail and consume each other.]
Then you eat more. We're going to find something else, so it's fine. ...It looks like this was a fun place to be, once.
[They're less likely to find practical food and items, but there's something special about looking back into the happiness of the past.]
no subject
If you say so... [ She hums, taking a bite out of the bigger block obediently. ] I'll find more cold packs eventually, too. Or I can ask Shoko to keep an eye out again...
[ It's idle musing while she chews, taking in the relics of the past around them. In Syndicate, places like this never have anything worthwhile; in some ways, this world seems better off than the slums they came from. Hella can feel optimistic they'll really find more things to pocket. With her hand that's not holding any candy, she points at a magic trick shop. ]
That place says it's a store for magic, [ That's got to be the most fun thing around here, right? ] Let's check that out first.
no subject
Magic...? [Ninety-Nine lifts her head and tilts it to the side. They're probably both thinking the same thing. It seems out of place in the otherwise bright, silly boardwalk shopping center, for something like that to be out in public and advertised. Of course, she's thinking about completely different kinds of power.] I wonder if there's anything useful left.
[She sets Hella down gently, letting her slide to the ground.] I'll go first to take care of anything inside the door. [She's going to end up beating a mannequin...]
no subject
[ Pricilla dabbles in "magic" of this kind, Hella knows, not that she's ever really watched closely or tried to understand it in full. It's just cool to watch her shuffle cards in neat ways, or make feathers appear. If it's not that, then, maybe there's a chance something actually worthwhile to their cause will be inside.
Once Hella's feet are both back on the ground, she ambles on over to the shop window, cupping her hands around her eyes to try to see inside. As most places in Syndicate, it just looks... regularly shitty. Her hand goes the handle, aiming to open it for her companion so both her fighting hands will be free. ]
Just looks like a bunch of junk in there, but, [ She swings the door open with some enthusiasm. ] Go, go, go!
no subject
(The sizzle of powerful energy that sprung from Kotoha when she was bitten courses through her, a particularly bitter memory. Ninety-Nine has no way of knowing if or when it'll be the same for her.)
Instinct calls for her to roar upon charging into the shop, but if they've learned anything, it's the noise that gets them into trouble more often than not. She fights that, too - fights almost everything her brain and body seem to want her to do - as she bursts into the shop with her bat drawn and raised. It smells old in here, but less like death than a lot of other infested places. The mannequins modeling stupid hats and sequined attire strewn around the front of the store get smashed, as predicted. It's a mix of broiling suspicious and violent anger that she can't completely quell. Ninety-Nine hits them more than she needs to, bringing the bat down again and again. It's the only thing she can take her feelings out on. Why, why, why?]
no subject
That is, until the smashing starts carrying on for a bit too long. Hella peeks her head in, watching the mannequin get smashed and broken to smithereens, and she comes into the store herself, shutting the door behind her with her back. ]
Woah, okay! It's just a doll!
[ She assumes it must be residual Mania from the fight from before that's causing her to lash out like this, or maybe just the stress of the situation... there hasn't been a lot of time for Ninety-Nine to rest or not feel on her guard, so to Hella, it seems plausible she might get this way if she feels threatened. In fact, she's reminded of when they'd first broken out of Parma, and Ninety-Nine had absolutely massacred a poor, innocent trash robot because she'd thought it was a threat. ]
Look, there's nothing alive in here. [ Fearlessly, she approaches, wondering if she should try to stop the bat from coming down physically — her head leans this way and that to et a better look at her companion's expression, trying to gauge how deep in the throes she is. Deciding against interfering by catching the bat with her hand, possibly breaking fingers in the process, she'll give her a chance to stop on her own. ] You'll tire yourself out like this, dummy.