Jolene Remington
Three zombies were struggling to keep up with the slow speed from shambling. Two males and a female. They reached outward in front of them as they seemed as though they were desperately trying to reach for something. About a yard or so in front of them further up the road a woman could be seen sitting cross legged casually on the ground with two boxes of bullets in front of her. Blonde hair moved slightly from the slight breeze that came in, revealing crisp green irises not focused on the approached corpse bags.
Unused bullets were spilled out on the ground between her and the boxes. In her gloved hand she counted by one’s each bullet she put back in the box. Her other hand was close to the handle of her lever-action marksman rifle. The paint job of the beautiful weapon was a solid matte black from top of the FSS 18.0 Factory issued barrel, to the end of the granulated grip tape around the rear. A deranged smiley face was spray painted onto the right side of the barrel’s middle.
The walking sacks of maggot food we’re getting closer but as the blonde femme fatale finished counting her second box of bullets, she gave an unimpressed look up at them and furrowed her brow. Giving her thumb a lick she picked out two bullets. Holding one in between her fingers she dropped the one in her palm into her damaged black-lace bra. The sound of other bullets could be heard upon it landing. Jolene’s black faux leather jacket crunched upon her standing up, heels of her biker boots. Because they were heavy steel-toe cowboy boots, she muttered, “Fuckin-“ As she stumbled to stand properly.
Holding the bullet in her fingers she loads with the quickest of ease. All in one swift motion loading it, aiming down the iron sights, exhaling a breath that couldn’t be heard when previously inhaled, pulling the trigger, one of three zombie heads explode like a watermelon with firecrackers inside.
A headshot cleaner than a 1987 Chevy straight out the car wash, but messier than a freshly dropped cherry pie on the floor of a white tile diner establishment. She smiles and nods. Turning her back to the zombies she picks up both boxes of ammo and slips them back in her backpack. Putting her bag over her shoulder with an arm through one of the straps she looks down the road. The Bloodbath could be seen in the distance...as a decent sized speck. She had a ways to go but she was close. Was a real shame though to be down a traveling companion. That’s life, one would suppose. One foot after the other she began whistling a tune as she made her way towards her destination. A home away from home, the bar known as The Bloodbath. Something familiar that Jolene needed in a world that no longer seemed familiar. Even for a merc such as herself.
Three zombies were struggling to keep up with the slow speed from shambling. Two males and a female. They reached outward in front of them as they seemed as though they were desperately trying to reach for something. About a yard or so in front of them further up the road a woman could be seen sitting cross legged casually on the ground with two boxes of bullets in front of her. Blonde hair moved slightly from the slight breeze that came in, revealing crisp green irises not focused on the approached corpse bags.
Unused bullets were spilled out on the ground between her and the boxes. In her gloved hand she counted by one’s each bullet she put back in the box. Her other hand was close to the handle of her lever-action marksman rifle. The paint job of the beautiful weapon was a solid matte black from top of the FSS 18.0 Factory issued barrel, to the end of the granulated grip tape around the rear. A deranged smiley face was spray painted onto the right side of the barrel’s middle.
The walking sacks of maggot food we’re getting closer but as the blonde femme fatale finished counting her second box of bullets, she gave an unimpressed look up at them and furrowed her brow. Giving her thumb a lick she picked out two bullets. Holding one in between her fingers she dropped the one in her palm into her damaged black-lace bra. The sound of other bullets could be heard upon it landing. Jolene’s black faux leather jacket crunched upon her standing up, heels of her biker boots. Because they were heavy steel-toe cowboy boots, she muttered, “Fuckin-“ As she stumbled to stand properly.
Holding the bullet in her fingers she loads with the quickest of ease. All in one swift motion loading it, aiming down the iron sights, exhaling a breath that couldn’t be heard when previously inhaled, pulling the trigger, one of three zombie heads explode like a watermelon with firecrackers inside.
A headshot cleaner than a 1987 Chevy straight out the car wash, but messier than a freshly dropped cherry pie on the floor of a white tile diner establishment. She smiles and nods. Turning her back to the zombies she picks up both boxes of ammo and slips them back in her backpack. Putting her bag over her shoulder with an arm through one of the straps she looks down the road. The Bloodbath could be seen in the distance...as a decent sized speck. She had a ways to go but she was close. Was a real shame though to be down a traveling companion. That’s life, one would suppose. One foot after the other she began whistling a tune as she made her way towards her destination. A home away from home, the bar known as The Bloodbath. Something familiar that Jolene needed in a world that no longer seemed familiar. Even for a merc such as herself.
DM Post
The bloodbath was calm, which was surprising given the time of day. Where normally patrons would still remain scattered until they were kicked out in the morning, there were now only few still inside. Some of it's regulars had fled, others still came by but chose to spend the nights on other things now that survival was questionable in this new world.
One of it's common patrons was standing by the door of the establishment, a gun with a silencer in it's right hand and a rifle hanging over his left shoulder. He didn't seem like much of a threat, especially not given that he was just leaning against the wall of the bar and smoking his cigarette.
Long brown hair that reached his waist was cut short in a sidecut on the left side of his head, and matching brown eyes looked up at the night sky, gazing at the stars. Every now and then his head snapped back to his surroundings, particularly when he heard an unusual sound or the shuffling of feet. Other than that, he seemed preoccupied with whatever was on his mind.
A black leather jacket with a big logo on the back and a smaller one on his chest, right above his heart was worn, underneath which he wore a simple white shirt, ripped jeans and combat boots. His clothing wasn't dirty but it was clear that none of it was new, as all the materials had seen life and aged over time. A spiked bracelet peeked out underneath his left sleeve and two eyebrow piercings finished the accessories he wore. It wasn't much but, it was typical for a member of The Bloody Fangs to not wear too many things as they could get in the way when they fought.
Sasha
Sasha had slowed as she came across the bar, her face tired as she eyes the bikes settled there and the male standing guard, and made her decision. She moved into his line of sight, her hands held up as her weapon was in plain view and she spoke, weariness starting to take it's toll on her. "Hey man, I need a ride. A way back to my girl at the campus. Any of these rides belong to a dead guy?" She asked, putting it as bluntly as possible
Cyl
The loud roar of a heavy engine could likely be heard in the stillness of the night, as the Challenger Hellcat came rolling up on the bar, having left the large number of undead long behind in the dust. Seeing the woman with her hands up, he shook his head softly. He didn't get there in time to hear her words as he shut off his engine, before popping the door open. Removing his keys, he stepped out and nodded to the security guard at the door, before looking at the woman. "You look somewhat familiar, like someone who's been around one of my students. Didn't picture you for the type to hit up a bar full of mercs, but then again, no one would expect a professor to enjoy a regular drink here either, so I suppose it would be hypocritical for me to judge a book by its cover. Why are you acting like you're waving a white flag?"
Jolene
One gunshot went off. Then some seconds passed, almost a full minute before a second gun shot echoed down the road. Walking from not one but two dead husks of flesh, Jolene whistled with her rifle over both shoulders and arms hooked around the back while her hands hung downward. From the distance between both bodies, it’s speculated she purposely waited between kills. There went her hostile travel companions that kept her company as she trudged in her boots from a wreckage in the distance.
She can see in the distance closing in, the home away from home known simply known as The Bloodbath. The bar for mercs and rather rough-living individuals. A car engine’s roar could be heard all the way to where she had been walking from. “Challenger? Sick. I hope it’s a hellcat. Sounds like a hellcat.” She said to herself as she got closer with her steady pace. She lets out a tired exhale as she closed distance. A woman talking to the one standing guard in front, and a guy getting out the car she safely assumed was the Hellcat owner. “Called it.” She said with a sly smirk on her face. Being a regular, she waited for them to discuss their business with the door guy before making her way inside to unload. Jolene was not shy to any extent, and simply minded her manners and waited her turn as to not but in the business of others.
Sasha
Sasha glanced over at the new arrival, a single eye brow turning up at the display of the car before she answered. "Pretty simple, stranger. I'm armed. He's armed. I'd rather not get my ass shot for looking like I'm going to shoot him. And idk," she shrugged " I take classes at the campus. You might have seen me around." She said before shifting her glance to the gun shots, her hand moving to lay on the pistol still in its holster at her hip as the female walked closer and smugly. Sasha couldn't help but smile at that before turning back to the first man. "Look man, I have to get back to campus. The only family I have is there. The only one who matters. Either give me a damn ride or let me take one of these bikes." Her voice has shifted slightly, the tone changing as it matches her demeanor. A woman willing to do what's needed, even if that meant killing. Her words would have reached the other woman as she went inside and Sasha stood there waiting, her face clearing showing she was going to campus, one way or another.
Cyl
Looking up at the doorman, he nodded to the guy, before looking back at the woman. "Intriguing to address someone as Stranger without asking for a name. That aside, my name is Cyl. You might know me as Professor Induinen." He then motioned for the passenger side of the car. "I'll give you a ride, but do watch yourself. You won't harm the car, but the wrong move and the car may harm you." He slammed his fist on the side of the car as a demonstration, and the sound that came from it was as if his hand hit something very solid. He then looked over at Jolene. "Ah, hello again. I see you've been having fun with some of the creatures. Try not to die now. I do enjoy our rare conversations inside, after all." He chuckled softly, before stepping back into his car, shutting the door. He then started it up and the roar as it came to life could be heard for some distance. He revved it slightly to help the engine heat up a little, before waiting patiently for her to get in.
Sasha
Without saying anything, Sasha stepped over to the car. Willing to take the risk of being alone with a stranger in a confined space was buried under her need to get back to campus. Her eyes lifted and flicked back towards the door of the bar, the stray thought of who the hell that woman was. However, it took no time for her to shift and angle her body until she could grip her weapons if she needed to.
Jolyne
Minding manners came a long way, until she cracked a joke. Jolyne looked to the guy that stepped out the vehicle. As if her mouth had a mind of its own, she proceeded to blurt out, “Ooooh, cool guy. Where’s your English accent professor?” And then it actually clicked in her head. “Oh hey! You’re the one teacher guy from that day not awhile back. Bloodbath Beatdown, yeeeeah. Holy shit, another familiar face alive in this shitty times. I’ll drink to that. Speaking of, before y’all head into town, may as well have one for the road.” She walked away from the two and approached the doorman and dropped her bag next to him.
DM Post
Carl was not too keen about standing watch. Especially since the whiskey bottle he got as advanced payment for doing so was nearly empty. Hearing the idea of one of the bikes belonging to a ‘dead guy’, questioning if there was one up for grabs, made his brow wrinkle up. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before fist bumping the approaching Jolyne. He let the professor and newbie talk before adjusting his belt a bit and his back against the wall.
“Ain’t no way she’s just taking a bike. Hell whether the rider is alive or not don’t matter. You want a ride? You’re getting one from whoever’s willing. And by the look of things, the teacher might be your best option in his suped up car.” He takes another drag of his cigarette. “I’d take you myself if I could. Supposed to be watching the door all day until the next person.” Carl ankle bumps Jolyne, and follows it up with a lowered high-five as she drops her bag next to him.
Cyl
As the girl walked inside, he spoke up. "Save a glass for me. I'll be back shortly, more than likely." He then looked over at the woman who got in his car, giving her a bit of a stern look. "If I meant you harm, you'd be dead by now. But if it makes you feel any better, go ahead and pull whatever weapons you like to keep in hand." He then pulled back so suddenly and quickly that it whipped the car around to face the direction of the town. "Though if you try to harm me while we're driving, I wouldn't advise it." With that, he punched the gas, the engine roaring as he peeled off, headed towards the college.
DM Post
Some time had passed since Cyl and Sasha departed back towards campus. Inside the Bloodbath, patrons who have been in attendance to the bar on a daily basis practically treated everything as if there was no mass pandemic of undead. Bikers at the bar and tables boasting about good times and memories long gone, now only with guns out. Ex cons and mercenaries trading stories about battle scars both somewhat fresh and as old as their youth’s passing, just with their guns out. Out of place survivors finding a sense of normalcy amongst the variety of characters and away from the chaos and destruction...also with their guns out. Barbara downed her shot of whiskey with a quick swig. Afterwards she taps the glass down twice before placing it upside down, and gesturing with her hand crossing her neck. “I’m done for the day, hun.”
Jolyne
With a quick swig, the whiskey burned her throat something fierce and went down smoother than a pinball coming down the middle of two bumpers too short to hit it. Hesitantly she holds the glass in her fingers before nodding and tapping it twice, flipping it over upside down gently like her bartender friend. It gave her a nice buzz, and as always a few more and she wouldn’t be good for shit so stopping now was a good idea. Jolyne leans forward over the bar and messes with one of her bracelets.
“These things...I don’t know. Something out of a monster movie. I’d stay here and hold it down for ya. Not like y’all need the help, but still...back home and on the way here was a pain in the ass. Especially alone. Not like I can’t handle myself but...the security gives me a peace of mind. Part of me wants to head out to that campus that there professor and girl went to. Might be more people out there, people who could use the extra help?” Jolyne looked to Barbara. Her eyes showed a plea for some guidance. For the first time she truly didn’t know what direction was the right one. Vulnerable and looking to a friend for some honest-to-God advice.
DM Post
Barbara puts both shot glasses back behind the bar and scoots the bottle of whiskey towards Jolyne. “Find good people. Stay with them when you find them. If you’re gonna head out, take that with you. Can’t imagine going through any of this sober.” She said with a smile before placing a reassuring hand on Jolyne’s. With a tight grip she gives her a reassuring smile, with that being her goodbye.
Barbara let’s go of Jolyne’s hand and gets her cleaning rag to wipe down the bar. “Before you go, don’t forget to say goodbye to the guys, okay?” Barbara asks without looking up from the pry of the counter she had been cleaning.
Jolyne
Jolyne gives a nod and smiles, admiring the bottle. Abasolo Mexican whiskey. It was John’s favorite. And if she could recall, Gash only had it with John because he thought it tasted like shit and didn’t go down like a bottle of Jack would’ve. Jolyne takes the bottle and goes back to the door where she left her bag.
Picking up the bag, she throws it over her shoulder and picks her rifle. Steady footsteps take her outside. She gives Carl a pat on the shoulder with the back of her whiskey-bottle hand. Finally, Jolyne walks around the building to the back where her old companions were. She lets out a sigh while smiling as she walked up to them.
This swig of whiskey was so hard to swallow. Not only because of the burning sensation, either. She dropped her bag and sat down between the two dirt plots. They were long, and the dirt was surprisingly even. Her eyes go up. Gash’s biker cut, and what was left of John’s leather jacket; fixed onto the crosses that were made up of three 2x4 pieces of lumber. Her tears fell, and she exhaled a puffed sniffle before wiping her nose and standing back up. “I’ll see you guys, one day. Not soon...but one day.”
DM Post
The sound of a squeaking gear in need of some serious oiling grew closer to Jolyne from behind. Closer and closer it slowly grew. And then it ceased. A few feet behind her O’Leary sat in the old wheelchair with hands in his lap. In his right hand he gripped the keys to his bike. The grip was so tight that it made them jingle slightly before he brought them up closer to his face.
“She’s still got a near full tank. Haven’t ridden her since I’ve been in this damn chair. Shite. I don’t even want the damn thing back. S’only gonna make me fucking depressed.” He let out a defeated sigh and lowered his hand to sit them on his blanket. “Find whatever you gotta find. And don’t let go of it. Don’t take that shit ‘fer granted. And take care of yourself. And...and..” He let out another sigh.
Jolyne
Her moment of grief and acceptance came to an end upon O’Leary’s arrival. She stands to her feet and picks up her back. Turning completely around she walks up to O’Leary and hugs the struggling old geezer to her shoulder for a quick embrace. Her fingers pick up the keys and she gestures with the same hand to O’Leary as silent thanks. Her boots dig into the ground as she heads back up to the front of The Bloodbath.
With a nod to Carl as a last goodbye, she walks up to the motorcycle that belonged to O’Leary. An all black Hellrazor. The blue bandana on the handlebar was an added accessory it appeared. If O’Leary wanted to keep it for himself, he probably would have had it on himself by now. Plus he already said goodbye to his baby, she thought. Must belong to the bike?
Jolyne secured her items and picked up O’Leary’s helmet from the handlebar it hung from. Heavy and open face, but safety first. With her gun and bag on the bike, Jolyne removes the blue bandana and ties it to sit over her face. Key in the ignition she starts up the motorcycle and gets it roaring loud enough for everyone to hear. Jolyne used her feet to help back up the bike and align it with road. The motorcycle roars upon her take off towards where the professor drive off to.
The bloodbath was calm, which was surprising given the time of day. Where normally patrons would still remain scattered until they were kicked out in the morning, there were now only few still inside. Some of it's regulars had fled, others still came by but chose to spend the nights on other things now that survival was questionable in this new world.
One of it's common patrons was standing by the door of the establishment, a gun with a silencer in it's right hand and a rifle hanging over his left shoulder. He didn't seem like much of a threat, especially not given that he was just leaning against the wall of the bar and smoking his cigarette.
Long brown hair that reached his waist was cut short in a sidecut on the left side of his head, and matching brown eyes looked up at the night sky, gazing at the stars. Every now and then his head snapped back to his surroundings, particularly when he heard an unusual sound or the shuffling of feet. Other than that, he seemed preoccupied with whatever was on his mind.
A black leather jacket with a big logo on the back and a smaller one on his chest, right above his heart was worn, underneath which he wore a simple white shirt, ripped jeans and combat boots. His clothing wasn't dirty but it was clear that none of it was new, as all the materials had seen life and aged over time. A spiked bracelet peeked out underneath his left sleeve and two eyebrow piercings finished the accessories he wore. It wasn't much but, it was typical for a member of The Bloody Fangs to not wear too many things as they could get in the way when they fought.
Sasha
Sasha had slowed as she came across the bar, her face tired as she eyes the bikes settled there and the male standing guard, and made her decision. She moved into his line of sight, her hands held up as her weapon was in plain view and she spoke, weariness starting to take it's toll on her. "Hey man, I need a ride. A way back to my girl at the campus. Any of these rides belong to a dead guy?" She asked, putting it as bluntly as possible
Cyl
The loud roar of a heavy engine could likely be heard in the stillness of the night, as the Challenger Hellcat came rolling up on the bar, having left the large number of undead long behind in the dust. Seeing the woman with her hands up, he shook his head softly. He didn't get there in time to hear her words as he shut off his engine, before popping the door open. Removing his keys, he stepped out and nodded to the security guard at the door, before looking at the woman. "You look somewhat familiar, like someone who's been around one of my students. Didn't picture you for the type to hit up a bar full of mercs, but then again, no one would expect a professor to enjoy a regular drink here either, so I suppose it would be hypocritical for me to judge a book by its cover. Why are you acting like you're waving a white flag?"
Jolene
One gunshot went off. Then some seconds passed, almost a full minute before a second gun shot echoed down the road. Walking from not one but two dead husks of flesh, Jolene whistled with her rifle over both shoulders and arms hooked around the back while her hands hung downward. From the distance between both bodies, it’s speculated she purposely waited between kills. There went her hostile travel companions that kept her company as she trudged in her boots from a wreckage in the distance.
She can see in the distance closing in, the home away from home known simply known as The Bloodbath. The bar for mercs and rather rough-living individuals. A car engine’s roar could be heard all the way to where she had been walking from. “Challenger? Sick. I hope it’s a hellcat. Sounds like a hellcat.” She said to herself as she got closer with her steady pace. She lets out a tired exhale as she closed distance. A woman talking to the one standing guard in front, and a guy getting out the car she safely assumed was the Hellcat owner. “Called it.” She said with a sly smirk on her face. Being a regular, she waited for them to discuss their business with the door guy before making her way inside to unload. Jolene was not shy to any extent, and simply minded her manners and waited her turn as to not but in the business of others.
Sasha
Sasha glanced over at the new arrival, a single eye brow turning up at the display of the car before she answered. "Pretty simple, stranger. I'm armed. He's armed. I'd rather not get my ass shot for looking like I'm going to shoot him. And idk," she shrugged " I take classes at the campus. You might have seen me around." She said before shifting her glance to the gun shots, her hand moving to lay on the pistol still in its holster at her hip as the female walked closer and smugly. Sasha couldn't help but smile at that before turning back to the first man. "Look man, I have to get back to campus. The only family I have is there. The only one who matters. Either give me a damn ride or let me take one of these bikes." Her voice has shifted slightly, the tone changing as it matches her demeanor. A woman willing to do what's needed, even if that meant killing. Her words would have reached the other woman as she went inside and Sasha stood there waiting, her face clearing showing she was going to campus, one way or another.
Cyl
Looking up at the doorman, he nodded to the guy, before looking back at the woman. "Intriguing to address someone as Stranger without asking for a name. That aside, my name is Cyl. You might know me as Professor Induinen." He then motioned for the passenger side of the car. "I'll give you a ride, but do watch yourself. You won't harm the car, but the wrong move and the car may harm you." He slammed his fist on the side of the car as a demonstration, and the sound that came from it was as if his hand hit something very solid. He then looked over at Jolene. "Ah, hello again. I see you've been having fun with some of the creatures. Try not to die now. I do enjoy our rare conversations inside, after all." He chuckled softly, before stepping back into his car, shutting the door. He then started it up and the roar as it came to life could be heard for some distance. He revved it slightly to help the engine heat up a little, before waiting patiently for her to get in.
Sasha
Without saying anything, Sasha stepped over to the car. Willing to take the risk of being alone with a stranger in a confined space was buried under her need to get back to campus. Her eyes lifted and flicked back towards the door of the bar, the stray thought of who the hell that woman was. However, it took no time for her to shift and angle her body until she could grip her weapons if she needed to.
Jolyne
Minding manners came a long way, until she cracked a joke. Jolyne looked to the guy that stepped out the vehicle. As if her mouth had a mind of its own, she proceeded to blurt out, “Ooooh, cool guy. Where’s your English accent professor?” And then it actually clicked in her head. “Oh hey! You’re the one teacher guy from that day not awhile back. Bloodbath Beatdown, yeeeeah. Holy shit, another familiar face alive in this shitty times. I’ll drink to that. Speaking of, before y’all head into town, may as well have one for the road.” She walked away from the two and approached the doorman and dropped her bag next to him.
DM Post
Carl was not too keen about standing watch. Especially since the whiskey bottle he got as advanced payment for doing so was nearly empty. Hearing the idea of one of the bikes belonging to a ‘dead guy’, questioning if there was one up for grabs, made his brow wrinkle up. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before fist bumping the approaching Jolyne. He let the professor and newbie talk before adjusting his belt a bit and his back against the wall.
“Ain’t no way she’s just taking a bike. Hell whether the rider is alive or not don’t matter. You want a ride? You’re getting one from whoever’s willing. And by the look of things, the teacher might be your best option in his suped up car.” He takes another drag of his cigarette. “I’d take you myself if I could. Supposed to be watching the door all day until the next person.” Carl ankle bumps Jolyne, and follows it up with a lowered high-five as she drops her bag next to him.
Cyl
As the girl walked inside, he spoke up. "Save a glass for me. I'll be back shortly, more than likely." He then looked over at the woman who got in his car, giving her a bit of a stern look. "If I meant you harm, you'd be dead by now. But if it makes you feel any better, go ahead and pull whatever weapons you like to keep in hand." He then pulled back so suddenly and quickly that it whipped the car around to face the direction of the town. "Though if you try to harm me while we're driving, I wouldn't advise it." With that, he punched the gas, the engine roaring as he peeled off, headed towards the college.
DM Post
Some time had passed since Cyl and Sasha departed back towards campus. Inside the Bloodbath, patrons who have been in attendance to the bar on a daily basis practically treated everything as if there was no mass pandemic of undead. Bikers at the bar and tables boasting about good times and memories long gone, now only with guns out. Ex cons and mercenaries trading stories about battle scars both somewhat fresh and as old as their youth’s passing, just with their guns out. Out of place survivors finding a sense of normalcy amongst the variety of characters and away from the chaos and destruction...also with their guns out. Barbara downed her shot of whiskey with a quick swig. Afterwards she taps the glass down twice before placing it upside down, and gesturing with her hand crossing her neck. “I’m done for the day, hun.”
Jolyne
With a quick swig, the whiskey burned her throat something fierce and went down smoother than a pinball coming down the middle of two bumpers too short to hit it. Hesitantly she holds the glass in her fingers before nodding and tapping it twice, flipping it over upside down gently like her bartender friend. It gave her a nice buzz, and as always a few more and she wouldn’t be good for shit so stopping now was a good idea. Jolyne leans forward over the bar and messes with one of her bracelets.
“These things...I don’t know. Something out of a monster movie. I’d stay here and hold it down for ya. Not like y’all need the help, but still...back home and on the way here was a pain in the ass. Especially alone. Not like I can’t handle myself but...the security gives me a peace of mind. Part of me wants to head out to that campus that there professor and girl went to. Might be more people out there, people who could use the extra help?” Jolyne looked to Barbara. Her eyes showed a plea for some guidance. For the first time she truly didn’t know what direction was the right one. Vulnerable and looking to a friend for some honest-to-God advice.
DM Post
Barbara puts both shot glasses back behind the bar and scoots the bottle of whiskey towards Jolyne. “Find good people. Stay with them when you find them. If you’re gonna head out, take that with you. Can’t imagine going through any of this sober.” She said with a smile before placing a reassuring hand on Jolyne’s. With a tight grip she gives her a reassuring smile, with that being her goodbye.
Barbara let’s go of Jolyne’s hand and gets her cleaning rag to wipe down the bar. “Before you go, don’t forget to say goodbye to the guys, okay?” Barbara asks without looking up from the pry of the counter she had been cleaning.
Jolyne
Jolyne gives a nod and smiles, admiring the bottle. Abasolo Mexican whiskey. It was John’s favorite. And if she could recall, Gash only had it with John because he thought it tasted like shit and didn’t go down like a bottle of Jack would’ve. Jolyne takes the bottle and goes back to the door where she left her bag.
Picking up the bag, she throws it over her shoulder and picks her rifle. Steady footsteps take her outside. She gives Carl a pat on the shoulder with the back of her whiskey-bottle hand. Finally, Jolyne walks around the building to the back where her old companions were. She lets out a sigh while smiling as she walked up to them.
This swig of whiskey was so hard to swallow. Not only because of the burning sensation, either. She dropped her bag and sat down between the two dirt plots. They were long, and the dirt was surprisingly even. Her eyes go up. Gash’s biker cut, and what was left of John’s leather jacket; fixed onto the crosses that were made up of three 2x4 pieces of lumber. Her tears fell, and she exhaled a puffed sniffle before wiping her nose and standing back up. “I’ll see you guys, one day. Not soon...but one day.”
DM Post
The sound of a squeaking gear in need of some serious oiling grew closer to Jolyne from behind. Closer and closer it slowly grew. And then it ceased. A few feet behind her O’Leary sat in the old wheelchair with hands in his lap. In his right hand he gripped the keys to his bike. The grip was so tight that it made them jingle slightly before he brought them up closer to his face.
“She’s still got a near full tank. Haven’t ridden her since I’ve been in this damn chair. Shite. I don’t even want the damn thing back. S’only gonna make me fucking depressed.” He let out a defeated sigh and lowered his hand to sit them on his blanket. “Find whatever you gotta find. And don’t let go of it. Don’t take that shit ‘fer granted. And take care of yourself. And...and..” He let out another sigh.
Jolyne
Her moment of grief and acceptance came to an end upon O’Leary’s arrival. She stands to her feet and picks up her back. Turning completely around she walks up to O’Leary and hugs the struggling old geezer to her shoulder for a quick embrace. Her fingers pick up the keys and she gestures with the same hand to O’Leary as silent thanks. Her boots dig into the ground as she heads back up to the front of The Bloodbath.
With a nod to Carl as a last goodbye, she walks up to the motorcycle that belonged to O’Leary. An all black Hellrazor. The blue bandana on the handlebar was an added accessory it appeared. If O’Leary wanted to keep it for himself, he probably would have had it on himself by now. Plus he already said goodbye to his baby, she thought. Must belong to the bike?
Jolyne secured her items and picked up O’Leary’s helmet from the handlebar it hung from. Heavy and open face, but safety first. With her gun and bag on the bike, Jolyne removes the blue bandana and ties it to sit over her face. Key in the ignition she starts up the motorcycle and gets it roaring loud enough for everyone to hear. Jolyne used her feet to help back up the bike and align it with road. The motorcycle roars upon her take off towards where the professor drive off to.
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