Renn

“First of all, don’t speak out loud like that when you’re talking to me. Use your mind; you’ll be clearer and no one will suspect you: This is a matter of life and death, surviving on the cusp of the infection. By now you’ve noticed your little friend inside your head, that is your life long partner, the infection. Listen to its request, if you wish to live that is. Any one who is converted under my infection must form a contract with their infection in order to live; every infection has a desire special to it, find out yours and, if you can, offer a pact to grant it. If you fail, you die.”


Layla didn't do anything for a moment. So...if she wanted to live, she had to be a servant. She didn't like the thought of that at all. A contract, eh? What did her ' infection' want? Why did this happen to her? Was it God's wrath sent upon her? She almost chucked. When was the last she thought of God? She had never been a big believer of God but she believed something was out there. "So," she thought to her other voice in her head, "what do you want? It better be quick. I'm pretty much dying here." Layla was ready to die if the voice’s request was ridiculous.

“Easy. I already have what I basically need. I just need you. You can have your body or whatever. Just when the moment is right, I’ll use you. That’s all. Is that so hard?”

Layla didn’t respond right away. That was it? That’s what her infection wanted? She replied back. "That's all? Just to use me for, what, a moment? How can I trust you? How can I trust anyone? I'm alone in this world. Is it even possible for any of my family to be alive? What reason do I have to live?"

Layla felt a sharp pain in her head. She gasped. "There is one family member alive. I know. I can help you with your situation, your memories, everything. Just make this contract. You won't die. I won't let you. Please?"

Layla felt shocked that her infection sounded almost sincere. Like there was something she needed this bad that she had to ask her for such help. "Fine. I don't care. I'll help you."

"Thanks you."

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kimihiro

Kite nodded and followed.
She keeped her hand om her P226.
"I will do my best to help Rpex." she thoughed.
After a few secounds she took up her P226 and hold it.
"Now im ready." she whispered.
"I will help him brother, so borrow me your strengh." she thoughed.

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I see snow falling down on this glorious land. To a fallen feather they say, it's the angels crying winter tears.

GrimmjowJaggerjack

I then watched them take down two guys i then went in after them and saw a girl and the guy the call madeye "what are you doing"i said to them then looking at the two men on the ground.

Renn

Layla wondered aimlessly in the run-down building. She felt better and everything was clearer. Though, in her currant situation, she wish it wasn't. This was disgusting. All around her were dead bodies, some stripped down to nothing. And the smell was horrible. Her sense seemed to have increase, but she wished they hadn’t, not here anyway. She almost gagged a few times. What kind of place...

"Get use to it. I'm sure we still have a long way to go. Besides, this is nothing. You've had to have seen far worse.

Layla sigh, miserably. Her voice was right. She had seen far worse, but she didn’t have the sense she had now, so this making it worse. She wasn’t sure where she even was. It seemed like the place had been attacked. She wasn’t worried all that much. She felt stronger than she was before and she had found a shotgun, among the wreckage. “So, voice-”

“Call me R.”

“So, R, what do you think we should do?” She had no idea, so she might as well as ask ‘R’.

R just sighed. “Well you could, I don’t, look around and see where you are. Or you could ask him.” R must have meant that…other voice. The rough-sounding male. She might as well as try it.

“Hey!” She tried thinking hard on the other voice, hoping she could make a connection. “Can you hear me? Maybe you have an idea to where the heck I am.” She continued to walk through the rubble, waiting for a reply.

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zyta

Albireo’s infection took up Layla’s call. The infection had a tinge of annoyance as it replied to her, irritation that she ignored his invitation to a game. Albireo was waiting patiently for Jack before continuing with his story.

“What do you want?”

“Can you hear me? Maybe you have an idea to where the heck I am.”

”Tell me what you see and the last place you remember being.”

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Francis

1: Days on a Ship, Pt 1

Forgive the title. I know it's rather bland, but I'm not exactly in a mood to write. In fact, if I hadn't been very, very bored, I wouldn't be tapping out this journal entry at all. If I really wanted to, I could play a few more rounds of backgammon or Tetris, yet we all know how exciting those sorta games could get.

Aidan (the NIRA bigwig I report directly to on a regular basis) thought it a good idea to load a game of animated strip poker into my PDA. How thoughtful, indeed. I appreciate the thought, but honestly, I don't get my thrills that way. On top of that, I wouldn't want three dozen horny seamen looking over my shoulder each time I whip this thing out to mark my calendar and stuff. Furthermore, there's been no Internet out in the Atlantic ever since some nasty bug did Uncle Sam in. Boring, yes, but I'm glad I won't be having Aidan breathing down my neck for the next couple days.

As for the blokes on board? The sailors aboard this rusty old clunker speak only Somali, so I guess that completely rules out chitchat with just about anyone. Captain Achmad's Somali himself, but hey, he speaks French (the utterly broken sort), so he'd make a good conversation partner - if he's not locked up in his cabin most of the time drinking like a fish. Gotta give him credit though, he ain't getting high smoking his cargo. That sorta restraint must call for a lot of willpower. Or a helluva lot of moonshine. My money's on the moonshine.

Tippling aside, the Captain ain't all that bad. It's not an easy thing to make an unscheduled nighttime stopover off the western coast on such short notice, what with gunboats and the occasional destroyer patrolling Irish waters with orders to shoot intruders on sight (I wonder, just how much did the FOA pay this fellow, anyway?). A landing close to the shore was out of the question, so Paddy and I had to meet them halfway on a dinghy. Paddy, who seemed rather unhappy to see me climb up the ship's rope ladder, gave a brief farewell on behalf of the crew (“'Deep Five' just doesn't have that ring to it, boss”). He then rowed back to the beach alone. The Captain must've felt sorry, since he told me he'd like to “small talking with Legionnaire over many alcohol and some goat” as Paddy's dinghy disappeared from sight.

Come to think of it, I've yet to take Achmad up on his offer to join him for some moonshine. It's been three days now. I'll go upstairs for a stiff drink and some supper, all right, as soon as I'm done securing my cabin. You can never be too careful.

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If you work for a living, why do you kill yourself working?

Renn

Layla's infected answer. "Stop brooding. We didn't have time for your stupid game anyway." Layla felt that her infected was stubborn."I'm not stubborn. Besides, the last place she was in...was America. I think....we're in...Japan, maybe??"

Layla shrugged. She wouldn't know. She never left America. There was a reason she stayed there, though she had no reason why. Now that she thought about it, she had always stayed on the west coast. Maybe she was waiting for something. Or someone. Maybe, it was the relative 'R' had talked about. Layla pondered on who it could be. She had a feeling it would be her mother. No...she was sure of it. A cousin? Uncle? Aunt? Grandfather? She chuckled. She hadn't seen many old people around. Not like they really had a chance they way things were. Some, maybe.

"Focus! Look around. I need to know where we are.

Yes sir! Layla mentally saluted in her head. She looked around, but she wasn't sure what exactly what she should be looking for. This place was a dump! Run-down building, street full of corpses, and all that good stuff. What was she suppose to look for? A sign? If there was a sign for this place...

"I think we're in Tochigi, or rather...what's left of it. This place is disgusting. We should leave, like right now. This place...I don't like it."

"If you say so. It's not like I want to stay here anyway." She replied back, walking the street, slowly taking the path out of town, not knowing that something wanted her to stay.

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Francis

Days on a Ship, Pt 2a

Dear Diary,

There, that should do it. With all this wire and duct-tape, my cabin now looks booby-trapped enough to frighten potential looters. I've especially rigged my Jackhammer, just in case some sucker finds her appealing enough to give 'er a try.

I'll be taking my handgun along though, snugly holstered underneath my coat. Y'know, just in case Monsieur le Capitaine transforms into some trigger-happy maniac while under the influence.

Now to join him for some chow and booze. Hope he's got some whiskey.

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If you work for a living, why do you kill yourself working?