Lucid Arsen
"Shit shit shit and fuck and another shit..." The Iraqi male with the strong Boston accent cursed his soul away with the even slightest jostle of glass vials and measurement beakers, as they'd clank together in his haste to pack his plain white bookbag with dangerous chemicals safely closed and packed, measurement vials, acid resistant tubes, some safety powder, and some other stuff, along with his entire mini fridge worth of food. All together his bag contained a sandwich box full of sodium powder, a pencil-long and twice inch thick vial of crystalline white powder known as Acetone Peroxide which explodes if exposed to immense heat, friction, or even static electricity. Acetone Peroxide is a favorite amongst terrorist bombers for its high concentration and easy detonation. Beside the Acetone and Sodium, sat the popular powder known as TNT. Wrapped in plastic wrap and stuffed into a plastic container, these explosive black powder sticks were harmless until lit, and unlike the Sodium and Acetone, Lucid had created these sticks himself; getting the love of Science, chemicals, and such from his father. Although his true passion was brewing, distilling, and Mixology, for he found creating alcoholic beverages took just as much Science as creating a TNT stick, or even creating a Hydrochloric bomb.
Lucid wasn't alone however, no no, he had his trusty sidekick, Binkt with him. Binkt the chubby ferret that was currently laying in the male's hood like a hammock with a half eaten cricket in his paws. Luckily for Binkt, Lucid's diet did not consist of crickets, so the cricket treat bag was all up for grabs. One at a time, that is, Lucid would have to ration for the small fuzz ball as he would for himself. Aside from the explosive chemicals, his bag also held food for himself, for he had decided upon the second day of this Zombie virus and the consistent bombing, that had now ceased; he was going to try and get back to New York City, where his father worked in one of the safest towers one could ever lay eyes on. Though, NYC is so populated, he could only imagine the rate the virus has spread there, if it had reached the city. His sensitive hazel eyes slowly drifted towards the floor at the thought his father could very much be dead, or worse, very much one of those THINGS.
Tears had already been welling in Lucid's eyes, for he couldn't get over the screams of his little brother when he and Lucid had been attacked on the very day this virus had shown itself. The two had been unlucky enough to have been out and about in town on a day Lucid had taken off forms schooling to spend time with his brother. It was still so fresh, he could hardly breath as his chest would begin to close up and ever morsel of his being quaked. He couldn’t help himself, he had to sob out and allow himself to take a knee where he stood. Rocking himself and hugging Binkt, who had shown his little head from the male’s hood and climbed around to snuggle his crying human, like any good service animal, keeping Lucid grounded to the world around them and using his little body as a comfort. A comfort in which Lucid accepted, hugging the rather chubby ferret close and doing his best to calm his breathing and steady himself so he could clear his head and continue on with his supply run. “You had to….you had to. Hizz...Hizz couldn’t become one of those things..”.
Lucid sucked in a deep breath and would force himself to his shaky knees, keeping the happy Binkt close and making due care that his book bag didn’t knock into any of the vialed chemicals. It took a minute, but he had leveled himself enough to continue arranging everything safely in his bag, before tossing in four flares and a lighter in which would prove useful, he was sure. The next item he’d stuff, wasn’t into his bag, but into his belt, which was a G17 9mm Glock that he had no clue how to use, having taken it off one of the dead survivors outside. Yes, he’d been outside since the incident with his brother, and my God he was beyond terrified. This was all just a virus to him, a pandemic that survivors would have to push through, and that’s the thought he used to oddly enough, comfort himself. These Zombies were mindless and quite stupid, and everyone knows how to kill zombies, right? Lucid would have to learn how to use this gun, and he’d have to learn quick before he got himself killed running in anywhere unprepared. Binkt was happy to crawl back into Lucid’s hood and stay safely hidden whilst Lucid had zipped up his bookbag and hurried off through the halls, down a staircase, and scoped the area out from a back door, where he’d make his quiet exit. He’d been stealthily moving through underbrush and around debris, when he came across the door to what looked to be a library inside. He nodded to himself and would slowly creak the door open, stepping inside.
"Shit shit shit and fuck and another shit..." The Iraqi male with the strong Boston accent cursed his soul away with the even slightest jostle of glass vials and measurement beakers, as they'd clank together in his haste to pack his plain white bookbag with dangerous chemicals safely closed and packed, measurement vials, acid resistant tubes, some safety powder, and some other stuff, along with his entire mini fridge worth of food. All together his bag contained a sandwich box full of sodium powder, a pencil-long and twice inch thick vial of crystalline white powder known as Acetone Peroxide which explodes if exposed to immense heat, friction, or even static electricity. Acetone Peroxide is a favorite amongst terrorist bombers for its high concentration and easy detonation. Beside the Acetone and Sodium, sat the popular powder known as TNT. Wrapped in plastic wrap and stuffed into a plastic container, these explosive black powder sticks were harmless until lit, and unlike the Sodium and Acetone, Lucid had created these sticks himself; getting the love of Science, chemicals, and such from his father. Although his true passion was brewing, distilling, and Mixology, for he found creating alcoholic beverages took just as much Science as creating a TNT stick, or even creating a Hydrochloric bomb.
Lucid wasn't alone however, no no, he had his trusty sidekick, Binkt with him. Binkt the chubby ferret that was currently laying in the male's hood like a hammock with a half eaten cricket in his paws. Luckily for Binkt, Lucid's diet did not consist of crickets, so the cricket treat bag was all up for grabs. One at a time, that is, Lucid would have to ration for the small fuzz ball as he would for himself. Aside from the explosive chemicals, his bag also held food for himself, for he had decided upon the second day of this Zombie virus and the consistent bombing, that had now ceased; he was going to try and get back to New York City, where his father worked in one of the safest towers one could ever lay eyes on. Though, NYC is so populated, he could only imagine the rate the virus has spread there, if it had reached the city. His sensitive hazel eyes slowly drifted towards the floor at the thought his father could very much be dead, or worse, very much one of those THINGS.
Tears had already been welling in Lucid's eyes, for he couldn't get over the screams of his little brother when he and Lucid had been attacked on the very day this virus had shown itself. The two had been unlucky enough to have been out and about in town on a day Lucid had taken off forms schooling to spend time with his brother. It was still so fresh, he could hardly breath as his chest would begin to close up and ever morsel of his being quaked. He couldn’t help himself, he had to sob out and allow himself to take a knee where he stood. Rocking himself and hugging Binkt, who had shown his little head from the male’s hood and climbed around to snuggle his crying human, like any good service animal, keeping Lucid grounded to the world around them and using his little body as a comfort. A comfort in which Lucid accepted, hugging the rather chubby ferret close and doing his best to calm his breathing and steady himself so he could clear his head and continue on with his supply run. “You had to….you had to. Hizz...Hizz couldn’t become one of those things..”.
Lucid sucked in a deep breath and would force himself to his shaky knees, keeping the happy Binkt close and making due care that his book bag didn’t knock into any of the vialed chemicals. It took a minute, but he had leveled himself enough to continue arranging everything safely in his bag, before tossing in four flares and a lighter in which would prove useful, he was sure. The next item he’d stuff, wasn’t into his bag, but into his belt, which was a G17 9mm Glock that he had no clue how to use, having taken it off one of the dead survivors outside. Yes, he’d been outside since the incident with his brother, and my God he was beyond terrified. This was all just a virus to him, a pandemic that survivors would have to push through, and that’s the thought he used to oddly enough, comfort himself. These Zombies were mindless and quite stupid, and everyone knows how to kill zombies, right? Lucid would have to learn how to use this gun, and he’d have to learn quick before he got himself killed running in anywhere unprepared. Binkt was happy to crawl back into Lucid’s hood and stay safely hidden whilst Lucid had zipped up his bookbag and hurried off through the halls, down a staircase, and scoped the area out from a back door, where he’d make his quiet exit. He’d been stealthily moving through underbrush and around debris, when he came across the door to what looked to be a library inside. He nodded to himself and would slowly creak the door open, stepping inside.
Cyl Induinen
Cyl grumbled a bit. His body was starting to tire, while his mind remained as active as it ever did. He would crack this one way or another. He had to. His future, no, the future of humanity, hung in the balance. Or at least it did in his own mind. If he could crack this, he’d be able to do things no one could even dream of. As he had been aware of it for a while, through contacts and such, he had a few samples of the virus in his bag, mainly blood samples and brain tissue from those turned. He needed to get hold of a live sample from someone infected, for comparison purposes. His eyes stared into the electron microscope as he studied this thing, grumbling a bit more as he worked and studied. (c)
After a few hours, he looked away from the sample, his eyes straining a bit to adjust to the dimmer light of the room. He looked out the windows. Night again, and it sounded just as lively as ever. He really needed to get a drink. Maybe a pub, or a good dive bar. College towns never had a shortage of bars. In his work here, he’d been absent from the general public for a few days, working almost tirelessly and sleeping in his office when his body could no longer take the strain. (c)
He knuckled his back, leaning back a bit to make it pop, before stretching out a little. He then turned his stool and stood up, rolling his shoulders. Striding over to his office, he stepped in and walked to what seemed like a blank wall panel. He’d had this safe installed under the radar, even the people who ran the college had no knowledge of its existence, and it wasn’t on any blueprint of the school. The only knowledge of its existence was in his mind, and that mind was a steel trap. Tapping his fingers in a soft rhythm, he used the sound controlled lock and cymatic rhythms to input the combination, before it popped open with a soft click. He then slid his briefcase into the safe, as well as the sample that he’d been studying, albeit tightly sealed for everyone’s safety. He didn’t need his students somehow becoming infected. (c)
After that, he slid the door shut softly, before watching it slide into place and seamlessly become a wall panel again. Satisfied, he walked over to a coat hanger, removing a London Fog trench coat, just in case there was a bit of a chill. He had been in the controlled atmosphere of the Chemistry lab for the past while, so he had no idea what he was stepping out into. Best to be prepared, just in case. He then grabbed his cane, checking the three-foot blade within it. He really should oil it and hone the blade later, when he got a chance to. However, a drink currently called his name, maybe a nice Scotch, or some Brandy. After that, he shut the door and locked it, before heading towards the stairs that would take him to the lobby and towards the front doors. (e)
DM Post
It was rather quiet outside, perhaps more quiet than one would suspect during an ongoing apocalypse. Most of that was due to the fact that the apocalypse was still blooming and hadn't quite reached it's full potential yet. Even though it was rather quiet, that didn't that nothing was going on.
Something was indeed moving beyond those front doors, and that something was a group of zombies that seemed to be making it's way from nowhere to nowhere, wandering around aimlessly. There were a few on this side of the pond, near the buildings and some more on the other side. One was even on the bridge over the pond, stumbling around as if it were a sunday afternoon and they were on a relaxing walk.
Every now and then one of the heads, of which there were about eight in total, would snap up and sniff the air to make sure that whatever they were smelling wasn't a potential next meal. Unsatisfied, it would then get lowered again as they had failed to pick up anything interesting. Minutes ticked by without further events, until a loud splash was heard and one of the zombies that had been wandering too close to the pond was seen trying to claw it's way out of the water.
Cyl grumbled a bit. His body was starting to tire, while his mind remained as active as it ever did. He would crack this one way or another. He had to. His future, no, the future of humanity, hung in the balance. Or at least it did in his own mind. If he could crack this, he’d be able to do things no one could even dream of. As he had been aware of it for a while, through contacts and such, he had a few samples of the virus in his bag, mainly blood samples and brain tissue from those turned. He needed to get hold of a live sample from someone infected, for comparison purposes. His eyes stared into the electron microscope as he studied this thing, grumbling a bit more as he worked and studied. (c)
After a few hours, he looked away from the sample, his eyes straining a bit to adjust to the dimmer light of the room. He looked out the windows. Night again, and it sounded just as lively as ever. He really needed to get a drink. Maybe a pub, or a good dive bar. College towns never had a shortage of bars. In his work here, he’d been absent from the general public for a few days, working almost tirelessly and sleeping in his office when his body could no longer take the strain. (c)
He knuckled his back, leaning back a bit to make it pop, before stretching out a little. He then turned his stool and stood up, rolling his shoulders. Striding over to his office, he stepped in and walked to what seemed like a blank wall panel. He’d had this safe installed under the radar, even the people who ran the college had no knowledge of its existence, and it wasn’t on any blueprint of the school. The only knowledge of its existence was in his mind, and that mind was a steel trap. Tapping his fingers in a soft rhythm, he used the sound controlled lock and cymatic rhythms to input the combination, before it popped open with a soft click. He then slid his briefcase into the safe, as well as the sample that he’d been studying, albeit tightly sealed for everyone’s safety. He didn’t need his students somehow becoming infected. (c)
After that, he slid the door shut softly, before watching it slide into place and seamlessly become a wall panel again. Satisfied, he walked over to a coat hanger, removing a London Fog trench coat, just in case there was a bit of a chill. He had been in the controlled atmosphere of the Chemistry lab for the past while, so he had no idea what he was stepping out into. Best to be prepared, just in case. He then grabbed his cane, checking the three-foot blade within it. He really should oil it and hone the blade later, when he got a chance to. However, a drink currently called his name, maybe a nice Scotch, or some Brandy. After that, he shut the door and locked it, before heading towards the stairs that would take him to the lobby and towards the front doors. (e)
DM Post
It was rather quiet outside, perhaps more quiet than one would suspect during an ongoing apocalypse. Most of that was due to the fact that the apocalypse was still blooming and hadn't quite reached it's full potential yet. Even though it was rather quiet, that didn't that nothing was going on.
Something was indeed moving beyond those front doors, and that something was a group of zombies that seemed to be making it's way from nowhere to nowhere, wandering around aimlessly. There were a few on this side of the pond, near the buildings and some more on the other side. One was even on the bridge over the pond, stumbling around as if it were a sunday afternoon and they were on a relaxing walk.
Every now and then one of the heads, of which there were about eight in total, would snap up and sniff the air to make sure that whatever they were smelling wasn't a potential next meal. Unsatisfied, it would then get lowered again as they had failed to pick up anything interesting. Minutes ticked by without further events, until a loud splash was heard and one of the zombies that had been wandering too close to the pond was seen trying to claw it's way out of the water.
Cyl
As he walked towards the entrance to the building, he stopped for a moment to turn out the lights. Pulling a key out, he went ahead and unlocked the front door, before stepping out into the darkness. Looking up, he noticed the porch light wasn't on, making him grumble a bit more. "Do they ever do maintenance here?" He sighed softly, before relocking the door, and then started walking towards his car in the parking lot. He took a moment as one of the undead approached him, and with a practiced hand, he quickly snapped the neck and let it fall to the ground, stepping over it in an unconcerned fashion. He then got to his car and popped the door open, before removing his coat and tossing it on the back seat. He took a moment to look up at the moon, before sitting down in the driver seat. As he shut the door, he noticed a few of the things looking in his direction, the door sound catching their attention. He chuckled softly, before starting his car and revving the engine. It was one of the simple pleasures he enjoyed in this heavily armored beast, and the roar it gave off reverberated off the college buildings like a loud and angry echo. He then backed up a bit, watching the small camera in his dash to make sure he didn't hit anything. Shifting into gear, one of the things lurched and moved towards the front of his car, stumbling slowly as it went. He smirked, before flooring it, the roar far louder than the one when he revved the engine. He white-smoked the tires as he peeled out of the parking lot, smashing the zombie in the process, before heading out towards his favorite bar.
As he walked towards the entrance to the building, he stopped for a moment to turn out the lights. Pulling a key out, he went ahead and unlocked the front door, before stepping out into the darkness. Looking up, he noticed the porch light wasn't on, making him grumble a bit more. "Do they ever do maintenance here?" He sighed softly, before relocking the door, and then started walking towards his car in the parking lot. He took a moment as one of the undead approached him, and with a practiced hand, he quickly snapped the neck and let it fall to the ground, stepping over it in an unconcerned fashion. He then got to his car and popped the door open, before removing his coat and tossing it on the back seat. He took a moment to look up at the moon, before sitting down in the driver seat. As he shut the door, he noticed a few of the things looking in his direction, the door sound catching their attention. He chuckled softly, before starting his car and revving the engine. It was one of the simple pleasures he enjoyed in this heavily armored beast, and the roar it gave off reverberated off the college buildings like a loud and angry echo. He then backed up a bit, watching the small camera in his dash to make sure he didn't hit anything. Shifting into gear, one of the things lurched and moved towards the front of his car, stumbling slowly as it went. He smirked, before flooring it, the roar far louder than the one when he revved the engine. He white-smoked the tires as he peeled out of the parking lot, smashing the zombie in the process, before heading out towards his favorite bar.
Cyl
Once inside, he headed to his office, before unlocking the door and placing his briefcase carefully on the desk. He sat down at the desk for a moment, organizing his thoughts, before popping the case open and grabbing the tests he needed to grade. He left the secret compartment of the case shut, plenty of time for that later. He then slid open his bottom drawer, pulling out a 12 year scotch and a glass, then poured himself a generous glass and put it back, before kicking his feet up and relaxing, while sipping the scotch and reading the tests.
Once inside, he headed to his office, before unlocking the door and placing his briefcase carefully on the desk. He sat down at the desk for a moment, organizing his thoughts, before popping the case open and grabbing the tests he needed to grade. He left the secret compartment of the case shut, plenty of time for that later. He then slid open his bottom drawer, pulling out a 12 year scotch and a glass, then poured himself a generous glass and put it back, before kicking his feet up and relaxing, while sipping the scotch and reading the tests.
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