Buenos días, cockbites

He’d grown up always hearing people talk about their ‘survival plans’ if ‘something like that ever happened’. Talk of where they’d go first, how they’d hold out, and what sort of ideas they had for getting supplies. At the time, it had all seemed pretty dumb—he himself had never thought anything out because ‘as if something like that would ever happen—grow up’.

He wondered if any of those plans had worked out.

Pryce ducked behind a car and paused, catching his breath. He could still hear the groans and grunts of his two ‘infected’ pursuers not far from where he was crouched. These were persistent ones. And more difficult to take down bare handed than most—he’d almost been bit two times now. Or maybe it was his own fatigue. Either or.  

Running a hand through his hair, Pryce plunged his hand into his coat. He let out an irritated sigh as he pulled out a clip. He hated using his guns. The shots always had the possibility of alerting more ‘zombies’. Or other survivors. Problems came with both options. 

One more flight. That was all she could take, hoping that their was indeed a roof top exit. Spinning around one more corner and she could see it, the tiny slither of light, shinning through the bottom of the door. With all her might she burst through the door into the light of day. 

Not giving herself time to relish the warmth of being outside, she slammed the door and padlocked it shut. Allison wanted nothing more than to stretch out on the dirty roof top and catch her breath but the sound of three gun shots stopped her.

Sprinting to the roof's edge, there, in the street was a survivor. Not just any survivor, one with a gun. Plans formulated in her head, all with the same goal. Get the ammo. This world had become survival of the fittest and being low on ammo herself she had to do what was necessary to survive. 

The stairwell was out of the question when it came to getting back to the ground floor. The fire escape on the next building over seemed the only other logical way down. But she had to be quick, who knew how long the survivor would leave themselves open for. 

With all speed, Allison scaled down the fire escape into a poorly-lit ally way. Grabbing the rifle strapped to her back she stepped out into the light, gun raised and adrenaline pumping.

"Soldier, where is everybody running?"

rvb tarot; XIII - death + tex

He was so concentrated on putting up the lights that he didn’t see the black-armoured figured approaching in his peripheral. The sudden shout caught him off card and he yelped, bulbs smacking together as he jostled on his step-ladder. He caught himself though, wide-eyed and legs bent, and he looked at the soldier that had interrupted his work. His face lit up.

Hands on her hips she leaned her weight on one leg as she looked at the tangled mess known as Caboose. Tex had always enjoyed Christmas. Once it had meant something on the M.O.I. Freelancers getting drunk, laid, or both. 

It was a special time of the year. Well… maybe not this planet’s year. Maybe not the moon on which he’d grown up. But for about everyone else—who’d lived on Earth—it was Christmas. Heck, even his family in the colony celebrated it whenever it came around following Earth time.

It was hard to celebrate though, with the lack of decorations and presents and all. But leave it to Caboose to find a box in the mess of the storage room full of strings of half-broken Christmas lights. Most of the bulbs were either dead, flickering, or dim, but that didn’t damper Caboose’s enthusiasm.

3.

The blonde rolled her weight onto the balls of her feet, knees bending just so. She was bigger than Texas, making her an even easier target than she would have been already, which meant she needed to be as fast as she could, constantly thinking three steps ahead.

1.

Tex came straight for her right off the bat, and although Arizona barely managed to dodge the blow it had clearly been due to sheer luck. Her luck seemed to end there, however, because in her attempt to duck away from a blow that would have more than winded her she lost her bearings, and it took a few too many seconds for her to regain herself, spinning to follow the top-ranked Agent’s movement.

God, this was going to suck.

Arizona looked over at the monitor as if F.I.L.S.S. had betrayed her, an uncharacteristically distinct feeling of dread settling in her gut. Sure, she was a decent fighter, and she’d been learning lately, but there was no way in hell that she’d have any chance against Texas. Hell, knowing the other Freelancer’s reputation, she figured trying to face off against the bitch was just about the same as a death wish.

5.

Tex cracked her knuckles. She was ready for this. Dumb bitch had come into her training room. This was all she had. She had to be perfect. She had to get everything right. She couldn't fail.

4.

She snorted at the remark. Regulations? Who the gave a fuck about regulations on this ship? No one, that's who.

3. 

How dare she think she was throwing a temper tantrum. Fucking rude ass bitch. 

2. 

This was it. This dunce was gonna get it.

1.

Incredulity was quick to replace irritation at Tex’s response after the other Freelancer had made her way down to the floor. Arizona scoffed and rolled her eyes, hands meeting her hips. Sure, she was a hot-headed idiot. Sure, most days, she’d be more than willing to outright pick a fight with anybody who threatened her like Texas just had.

But was she that fucking stupid that she’d purposely stay in the other’s way?

"Has anybody ever told you that you are absolutely batshit fucking insane? Because, I mean, you really, really are.”

Walking over to monitor she started setting up a fight for the two freelancers. F.I.L.S.S's voice travels over the room. "Hand to Hand Combat initiated. Round will begin shortly."

"Ow— hey!" Was all he really managed. She’d almost made him land in the blood, and that would have made one heck of a mess. See? Not qualified.

Squeezing her eyes she tried to banish Omega to the darkest depths of her mind from which he came. Her head began to pound in pain. 

So he wasn’t expecting it when a black figure began approaching him from the elevator, seen in his peripheral as he worked away at the blood. The clipped words that met his ears finally got his attention, and just as he looked up, the broom was swiped from his grip, triggering a gasp from the custodian’s mouth. “Well that’s not very nice!”

She did have to admit his feeble attempt to gain his broom back entertained her. She took the broom in her hand and as quick as she could swiped out at legs.