Apocalypse RP #3: The Vanishing

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Phi, Shad, Marv, Bug, Zale:

As the metal shrapnel comes to an end, the wooden planks held up by those nails crash down into the ditch. Luckily for those of you who got down they get caught on the other side of the ditch creating a makeshift bridge which you are now underneath. Light pours down through the space between the fenceposts.

Sascha, however, is not so lucky as the falling wood cascades down around her.

PHI:  It's not that debilitating, but walking is going to hurt even after you pull that out. You may want to find a way to disinfect that.

============

Mik Hael, Dryad:

Rorschev immediately gets to work examining the kitchen more closely. The table is easy enough to move to the side, and as he rifles through the draws he finds various things of debatable usefulness. Pots and pans, utensils, things bought off infomercials that were used once and put away forever. Anything you'd basically find in a kitchen. Among the utensils he does find a collecting of small steak knives.

Almost as if taunting him he finds the knife block sitting in one of the cabinets over the sinks, completely empty. The same goes for all the non-perishable food you would find up here: someone has cleared the place out. The perishables, however, have been left to rot and a white mold now coats the inside of the cabinet.

Speaking of mold, when you look at the disgusting wave of the stuff pouring from the fridge you think you can see something nestled there in the middle of it. You also spot something else: in the doorway to the hall, beside the refrigerator,  the light illuminates some mud. Just on the carpeted floor of the hall. It may just be the creeping vide this place gives off, but it almost seems as though something with smaller feet than yours had been stopping to wipe them here.

[Mik_Hael]

(Rorschev uses his ability to store the steak knives in midspace before walking into the yard to tell Ishika about the lump.)

[Marvelous Miscreant]

Ben clutches his head, ducking down below the boards overhead. He rocks back and forth shouting apologies at the group. His panic subsided as the group struggled to extract themselves from the wooden avalanche.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

(Nanami is inside the house, with you. Good thing to: you'd be alone otherwise.)

[Philote]

Nix phases his hand through his knee and it comes through the other side holding a blood nail. He throws it at Ben in anger but the nail soars over its target and lands in the grass. Nix goes back to holding his hands on the back of his knee to stop the bleeding.

[Mik_Hael]

(okay then, since she's not going to show up anytime soon. Rorschev picks up any small non mold colored object he can find, if there is none he'll just use a steak knife, and backs away from the fridge. Using the table for cover he concentrates, and then "gives the object/knife" few inches above the lump in the fridge. So that it will fall on, but not near the lump, watching carefully for any signs of movement.)

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

The fork you use falls onto the mysterious lump, and *plinks* off of it before bouncing off and falling through the mold.

No signs of movement yet.

[Philote]

Nix hobbles back into a standing position and slowly makes his way over to the opposite fence. He looks around, scanning to see if any more animals were around before taking a peak into one of the holes lining the fence.

[Mik_Hael]

(...by this point I am going to act as if Dryad's character is non existant given the amount of time she has not posted.)

Rorschach stairs at the lump as the stench of rotting scraps of food and mold wafts over his nostrils. The un-moving mass sitting there, as if taunting him with it's mysterious presence. He continues to watch the lump silently, before turning to leave, adjourning to the yard.

Upon seeing the others had left, he fallows the depressions in the damp dew covered grass and precedes to hop the fence that the others had crossed once reaching it. It is has been a while since his days in the service, but he clears it easily enough. when he catches sight of the others he sighs wearily and calls over to them. "Guys, I managed to find some things left inside the house...and one thing that was rather strange....Here." Rorschev reaches into his back pocket, retrieving the largest knife of the collection from subspace...the others did not entirely know the limits of his power yet...and trust was an expemsive commodity in these times. He then proceeds to toss the knife to the ground at Samuel's feet. "Samuel, can you duplicate this, or alter it's size to make it longer?"

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Tyler never really did get why Rorschev preferred to call him by his full middle name, but that made no difference. He would be happy to replicate some stuff, and make it bigger.

Unfortunately, he could not do both, with very much efficiency.

So, rather than trying to overdo himself, Tyler picked up the knife, replicated it ten times, and lengthened and enlarged three of them to sword-like proportions. Hopefully that would enough for now, and if not, perhaps he could try again later, when his head didn't hurt quite so much...

[Mik_Hael]

(...going to assume you passed them around.)

Rorschev Grabs one of the swords that Samuel had made and looks it over, if anything the lengthening of the blade only sharpened it's features. "Thank you comrade. Everyone, I found something inside of the refrigerator that might have been left buy someone.....as well as the tracks of something...odd. I think that whatever left it may still be inside the house."

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

(I'm not. Anyone who wants one has to take one.)

[Ericus Europaeus (Bug)]

CONTENTS DELETED

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[Tsubasa & Wen Tien]

Nanami picks up one of the longer ones and looks at it for a couple seconds before dropping it carelessly and picking up a normal sized knife. It would be much easier for her to use a regular steak knife than a giant one, though anything metal would help her anyways against threats.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

Ben had calmed down considerably since his panic attack and now stood on the fringe of the group looking ashamed.

"I.....I'm so sorry guys.....I .....panicked."

[Zaleramancer]

Sascha pushed the wood off of herself, ignoring the various aches. Grabbing onto the fence, she slowly pulled herself up, categorizing bruises and pains as she did.

Nothing broken. No sprains. Many, many bruises. Several scrapes.

Silently wishing her power was a healing factor, the young woman glanced at Ben. If he started to panic again, she would not hesitate to try and knock him out.

That lack of emotional control was going to be dangerous.

Reaching for one of the large daggers, she made a mental note to search for a first aid kit in whatever house they ended up raiding.

[Mik_Hael]

Rorschev waited several seconds before letting out a pained sigh. His observations of something lurking within the only safe haven they new of, gone ignored, the man walked over to the fence of another yard and began to haul himself up to eye level to scan the yard, but stopped midway. Instead he dropped back to the ground while the others were speaking among themselves an silently took a small section of a fence post, no bigger than a bottle cap, and let it drop to the ground. He then carefully peered through the small hole from a distance of a few feet, listening for any movement in the other yard.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

(The fence to your left, or the one to your right?)

[Mik_Hael]

(going to say left, or whichever one has another yard behind it, or whichever one we didn't just jump over.)

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Tyler watched the others make their selections, and then decided to take a sword and a knife for himself. Whoever wanted the third, he hoped would pick it up soon. At least, he hoped Rorschev might store it away. No need to leave an extra weapon behind for any potential enemies who might follow in their wake.

Though, for now, his true worry was what might lie ahead. He handed Rorschev the flash-staff to store away with his power, and followed his friends with his sword at the ready, somewhat awkward in his hands like a baseball bat.