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Post by Medieval Kevin on Oct 22, 2014 7:18:00 GMT -8
Georgia State National Guard Armory
Near the town of Woodbury, Georgia
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Post by Medieval Kevin on Nov 12, 2014 14:43:25 GMT -8
Philip The tires dug ruts in the ground as the heavy quad cab came to a stop, the rumble of the engine ceasing. Before them stood the armory, the place they had been looking for. It didn't stand far from the town but it was not well marked. Shumpert and Martinez jumped out of the bed behind him and started walking towards the doors. He just sat for a moment in his seat gripping the wheel. There was no readable expression on the man's face but his eyes where a tornado. This was not the first time Philip had been here. It was where he had acquired the weapons he needed... Only enough to do what needed to be done. They didn't see that coming and now that they where gone... It was all theirs for the taking. He didn't waste any more time and exited the truck to join his men. As he approached, Martinez turned to face him and simply held up the broken padlock that had been reinforcing the chains on the entrance. A frown set onto the Governor's face as he nodded. The rest of the group from the second vehicle raised their weapons as Shumpert pulled the doors open. They moved inside, methodically searching for whomever had come to the right place at the worst time... |
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Nov 19, 2014 12:06:53 GMT -8
The last slug ran down his throat, before he let the empty bottle of Whiskey carelessly fall out of his hands. The clattering noise was followed by a boisterous burp. Merle has ceased being careful, since the jalopy had died down and abandoned him in this outlying area with a bunch of sweet weapons in his living room.
Leaning back his head the image of his little brother appeared in front of his mind's eye. Sure he had become zombie chow by now, when he thought about the dopes he has been wandering with.
"Shit!", a little curse slipped out of his mouth, accompanied by the cracking noise, which his fist on the metallic rack left behind.
Actually, he wasn’t willing to give up on Daryl yet, but that was how it went today, wasn't it? The same way which had led him to sacrifice his old pal Joe…
Just a little longer Merle leaned there, feeling the alcohol deafening his senses, when suddenly the clanking noise of chains reached his ears. The chains with which he had bar the entrance door.
"Playtime…", he whispered in a slight babbling way, shouldering a rifle, still sitting on the ground, as the door swung open and against his presumption some armed men moved inside. They seemed not to notice him yet. For a moment he just sat still, waiting in the dark of the rack's shadow.
As one of them was close enough to grab, Merle came out of his hideout, placed himself right behind the man.
"Whadd d'ya think y'doin here, Dude? Pryin' aroun in ma houwse…", Merle slurred, while he levelled the rifle at the man's neck. Whoa, wasn't that easy to stand on two feet after having a little drinking spree.
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Post by Medieval Kevin on Nov 20, 2014 10:35:11 GMT -8
Philip
As they swept into the building they fanned out wide. Shumpert and Martinez took his sides while another, Gargulio, brought up the rear. The others went to the far walls scanning the perimeter of the large room. Immediately Philip heard a shuffling sound through what he thought was broken glass... His hand went to his holster and out came his nickel Beretta 92. It had belonged to the Captain... and the Governor had killed him with it. Lights flickered around the room, broken intermittently as the men passed between crates and racks of supplies and firearms that still waited here in the dark.
A hallway branched off to their right leading to offices and a study hall or two but that was not where the intruder was, he was near... Philip could hear him. The labored breathing. An occasional shuffle, the man was injured perhaps. Or drunk... Shumperts light illuminated a broken whiskey bottle. The Governor turned around to face his men, and noticed them all looking at him, waiting. Not watching their backs. Up went his pistol as their unwanted guest made his appearance, taking the worthless Gargulio at gunpoint. That's what happens...
"Whadd d'ya think y'doin here, Dude? Pryin' aroun in ma houwse…"
Everyone's attention was on the newcomer now. They had themselves a little Mexican standoff. He could see this man was not one of the guardsmen. Maybe soldier in a bygone time but now... "Can you still shoot with an accessory like that?" Philip said referring to their guests blade fixed to the stump of his right arm. Martinez raised his mp5 level with his targets face. "I say we don't find out." The Governor raised his offhand to silence his man. "Nobody has to get shot yet. So what's your story? You certainly don't look like some GI Joe." With the last part Philip gestured to the building itself. "No, I reckon there's more to you than that," he finished, keeping the disdain out of his voice.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Nov 22, 2014 11:17:23 GMT -8
"Can you still shoot with an accessory like that?", one of the men, probably their leader, said by pointing to his other hand, the one which nowadays was ending in a knife.
Merle had a short look to his right arm, before he let out a throaty laughter, as another guy, raising his submachine gun, preempted him.
"I say we don't find out."
On these words Merle tightened the grip around his hostage, ready to do what has to be done, if it was necessary, as suddenly the next words let him pause.
"Nobody has to get shot yet. So what's your story? You certainly don't look like some GI Joe.""No, I reckon there's more to you than that."
"Ma story?", Merle repeated, obviously baffled about the honest interest of his opponent. Again a throaty laughter was sounding through the building.
"Suppohse id's the same as evryone's. Killing. Surviving. Killing some more of thouwse ugly shiddfaces. Surviving jus' a lil longer. Howwly shid! Even hadd to sacrifice that fuckin' yardbird Joe to survive..."
On the last words his voice got a little brittle and the rifle on the man's neck lowered, at last fell down to the ground with a thud.
Normally he wouldn't have spilled his guts to anyone, above all not to some strangers, who just wanted to shoot him anyway after doing some dick comparision talks. But what do drunken people...? Right. They tell the truth.
"So if you're gonna shoot me, jus' do it quickly.", he slurred without thinking about it twice, offering his chest with a joyless smile. There anyway was nothing to lose any longer.
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Post by Medieval Kevin on Dec 13, 2014 15:54:46 GMT -8
Philip
Blake listened with his normal calm as the stranger told his story, short and to the point. As the weapon clattered to the floor he took a step towards the man, holstering his sidearm. "So if you're gonna shoot me, jus' do it quickly," the drunken man slurred, offering his chest. The Governor had no intention of allowing that to happen. "Lower your weapons..." When his people hesitated he pressed, "Go on..." Another step forward and Philip scooped up the discarded firearm. Shouldering it like he meant to use it himself he took a final step, putting him practically face to face with the as yet unidentified man. "What's your name?"
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Dec 13, 2014 16:38:15 GMT -8
"Lower your weapons...", Merle heard the leader's voice saying instead of the stentorian sound of a bullet, fired right into his offered chest. A puzzled expression lay on his face.
Another throaty laughter escaped his lips, while he watched the man commanding his group to lower their weapons. He really was serious, wasn't he?
Merle didn't move any muscle, as the leader stepped forward, lastly stood in front of him, face to face.
"What's your name?"
"Merle.", he answered truthfully, maybe also due to the alcohol in his veins, or maybe because there was something in the man's face, which seemed to be trustworthy. Well, actually that feeling could have been caused by the alcohol either.
After a little pause Merle fully let up on the man, he had threatened only a moment ago, and raised his hands to the sparsely haired back of his head.
"But to whadd do I owe the honourr of ya mercy, Dude?", he asked with a sudden smirk, not really interested in knowing the man's name. Probably they both won't live much longer in this hell, so why wasting time with introduction games...
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Post by Medieval Kevin on Dec 13, 2014 17:16:50 GMT -8
Philip
"But to whadd do I owe the honourr of ya mercy, Dude?" Merle asked with a smirk as he put his hands on his head. "That's the Governor of Woodbury you're slurrin at, show some respect before I teach it to ya." One of the men blurted out. A sharp glance to his side by Blake silenced the man from anything further. It was Philips turn to smile. He waited a second before putting his new acquaintance at ease. "That won't be necessary." he said, gesturing for Merle to lower his hands. He took the rifle away from his shoulder and held it in one hand down by his side. "Your home you said, did I hear that right?"
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Dec 13, 2014 17:56:48 GMT -8
"That's the Governor of Woodbury you're slurrin at, show some respect before I teach it to ya.",
one of the other men suddenly blurted out. Governor of what...? Well, whatever.
Merle didn't even blink an eye, instead still watched the man right in front of him, who silenced the conversation intruder with just one sharp glance. He seemed to have a good grip on them; like dogs, ducking their heads...
Merle eventually lowered his hands, or more precisely, his one hand and his knife, just as he was told.
"Your home you said, did I hear that right?"
"D'oh!", he murmured, slowly shaking his head, before he continued: "Whadd it's really worthh to call home today, huh? So, you wanna have it?"
Merle made one wavering step forward.
"Fine! Just take it."
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Post by Medieval Kevin on Dec 13, 2014 18:23:54 GMT -8
Philip
"Fine! Just take it." Philip shook his head at that. "You got it all wrong, we came to clean the place out. I don't mean to be coming back here again, best not to have any regrets with that decision." He took a glance around the room and took in all that might be worth grabbing. At least what he could see from where he stood. "Let's get this underway. Martinez load up the truck first. Crates and totes, anything we can stack. Whatever is left, loose or in bags, get it into the SUV."
Once the men scooted off to take care of the mission, the Governor turned back on Merle. "So what do you say? I wouldn't want to be here when we get through with the place. You sober up, Woodbury could use a man like you. A survivor." Blake turned the rifle around in his hand and held it out to Merle, offering it back to it's rightful owner. It was his choice.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Dec 14, 2014 2:21:54 GMT -8
"You got it all wrong, we came to clean the place out. I don't mean to be coming back here again, best not to have any regrets with that decision." The man turned around to face the group of his. "Let's get this underway. Martinez load up the truck first. Crates and totes, anything we can stack. Whatever is left, loose or in bags, get it into the SUV."
So they had a car. And they also seemed to have a place to return to, with all the stuff they picked. Merle had a short look at the man, who had called his leader a Governor. Could it be possible that these men were living in something like a town? A town under the protection of someone like an executive?
Suddenly their leader turned back on him.
"So what do you say? I wouldn't want to be here when we get through with the place. You sober up, Woodbury could use a man like you. A survivor."
Merle gave the man an incredulously gaze, before he fully lowered his arms, let the knife liveless sliding down his right side.
"I say, I'd be a bloody idiodd not to strike up ya offerr. You wanna shake handds on it?", Merle added the last words with raising the knife on his right arm end one more time, a grin playing around his lips.
"And how shall I call ya, Dude?" The knife was pointing in the man's direction, ignoring the probably dunning glances of his men behind. "I don't think muchh of titles, y'know."
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Post by Medieval Kevin on Dec 14, 2014 5:13:41 GMT -8
Philip
A single soft laugh escaped his lips as Merle raised his blade to shake on it. "And how shall I call ya, Dude? I don't think muchh of titles, y'know." Blake pondered that question for a moment. He didn't volunteer information often, including his name. Not to people he didn't know. It was part of the reason everyone took to calling him the governor...
This man though, he could be a very capable asset. More than that though, he didn't need coercion or manipulation. He was willing. That was something the Governor didn't get to work with as much, right out of the gate. This could be the beginning of something great. "Philip." He said with a smile.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Dec 22, 2014 8:52:33 GMT -8
For a moment, in which Merle was wavering a little, he thought the man in front of him maybe hadn't heard his question about his name.
"Philip.", he eventually answered with a smile. A smile, without any touch of irony. Merle answered it.
"Jus' hope for ya there's some good stuff in this Hoodbury.", Merle spat out with a hoarse voice, marked with some days of booze, and clapped Philip on the shoulder, as they would be old friends. Yes, this indeed could be the beginning of something.
**Merle leaves the National Guard Armory together with Philip and his group**
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