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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 6, 2017 0:20:50 GMT
[ Fletcher Cazden only, the introverts must meet... cause introversion is fantastic. ]
Being the way he is, the young man with messy reddish brown hair known as Dexter had slipped out during the cover of night. His wonderful, yet dastardly night vision consistently kept Dexter from leaving during daylight hours. When night began to fall upon Iona, Dexter began to prepare for his venture to the Nootau General Hospital where he could snag some medical supplies. Without anybody to assist his survival effort the young man lacked the ability based level of healing, which was truly a misfortune. It was a price to pay for being a loner and introvert since avoiding groups allowed for the necessary alone time to recharge his social batteries. Like always, Dexter swung his darkly coloured backpack over his shoulders and left his amber-tinted goggles hanging limply around his neck. On this night the young red-headed man decided to wear a black and white striped sweater and a pair of dark navy jeans.
Dexter walked down the various streets that would lead him towards the Nootau General Hospital; silently he prayed that medical supplies would still be left in the hospital. Medical supplies were of the utmost necessity, thus the young man wouldn't doubt if a majority of the supplies had already been taking. Whilst Dexter walked, the chilly night wind bit at his face and tousled his already messy hair. When Dexter reached the front of the hospital, he immediately noticed the whisper of the trees as the wind fluttered through them, but there seemed to be no other sound besides the tapping of his feet hitting the sidewalk. The young man knew that lingering was a terrible idea, thus he kept himself moving. The distance set between him and the broken glass doors of the hospital gradually closed.
Once Dexter reached the door, he spared a hasty glance over his shoulder before carefully opening the front door. A couple of the loose glass pieces feel to the ground, making some noise. When the door was wide enough to grant the red-headed man entry, he slipped through the gap and into the hospital. The white tiles and dull colours seemed nonexistent now due to the dirt that coated the walls and floors. More shattered pieces of glass covered the floor of the entry area, which meant caution was necessary. The last thing that Dexter desired was for him to take a tumble and receive a couple of nasty cuts and infections from the glass. As Dexter slowly walked away from the door, the steady crunch of glass breaking beneath his feet could be heard. The noise made Dexter wince, it was quite loud and would probably alert nearby people of his presence. That was something the young man didn't want, but it was clear that he had no choice in the matter.
After a few moments, Dexter managed to get pass the glass alarm system; its existence still annoying him. Upon crossing the "alarm system" he found himself standing before the registration desk which had papers both stern upon its surface alongside the floor. Despite the minor curiosity, the young man ignored the papers and turned down one of the many hallways. Dexter was hardly ever in the Nootau General Hospital which made the place seem almost like a rather large maze, however, there were thankfully still signs. The young man's blue eyes kept on the lookout for those signs, he needed to find a storage closet or something. His eyes seemed to catch every sign except for a storage room one. Visiting hours, patient rooms, examination rooms, et cetera, they were all here, but the cursed supply room seemed to be nowhere in sight.
To be completely honest, Dexter wanted to mutter out a complaint, but the young man managed to hold his tongue. He had already made plenty of noise with his idiotic idea to enter through the glass doors of the building. The safer route seemed to had cost Dexter the stealth he desired for when he entered the hospital, but it was too late to fix those errors. With that, Dexter continued down the numerous corridors of the hospital in search of some sort of storage room all while mentally praying that this trip wouldn't be a complete waste of time.
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Post by Fletcher Cazden on Mar 6, 2017 1:35:09 GMT
Fletcher walked the halls of the hospital, taking great care to quiet his steps. There was no telling what could happen if he was found. He might have to fight someone off just to get the supplies he needed to survive. The life he led wasn’t a pleasant one, it was bearable at best, but that’s just how it goes. Nobody had “the perfect life” anymore, everybody made do with what they had or what they could find.
In Fletcher’s case, life was a cycle of hunting and gathering. Hunt the animals for food, gather water and other supplies when he could. He’d been living on his own ever since that day when the world went to Hell and it was easier that way. There was of course a certain danger that solitude provided, he was more likely to be attacked by other people and hungry animals, and less likely to survive when that happened. That was exactly the reason Fletcher had decided to scavenge at the hospital. Medical supplies were few and far between in times like this and it was of the utmost importance that he stock up.
The young introvert made his way through the halls as silently as he could, keeping his eyes peeled for any other intruders. Keeping a hand to the wall he felt his way down one hall and stopped at a crossroads. A quick, mental game of “eenie meenie miney mo” was all it took to decide what direction to go next as it was almost impossible to see in the darkness. There were no windows in the halls so despite the moon being high in the sky, he couldn’t see more than 2 feet in front of him.
Fletcher stopped when his hand glided across the edge of a doorway and turned to face the room. Feeling about, he easily found the doorknob and turned it, but the door didn’t budge. He sighed, just his luck, the door was locked. A thought entered his mind and he perked up a bit. It was risky and he might be found, but if the room was locked then there was probably supplies in there, completely untouched by anyone else. Fletcher took a few steps back and brought his leg up before slamming his foot into the door just to the left of the lock. His plan was a success and the door swung open easily knocking a few items to the floor. They rattled like a child’s toy which indicated to Fletcher that they were probably pills of some kind.
Putting his hand out again, he felt for a wall, but found none. A sigh of exasperation escaped his lips and he shook his head. He would just have to make his way through into the room blind. Fletcher out one foot through the doorway and tested the solidity of the floor. Deciding it was safe, he made his way forward only to stop abruptly when he smacked his head on the top of the door frame.
“These damn doors are always so small, why do I never remember that.”
He scowled and rubbed his forehead before ducking into the room. Seeing no windows he decided it was safe enough to light a torch. Fletcher took a lighter and a medium sized stick out of his backpack and lit the cloth tied to the top of the club-like object. The room instantly filled with light, leaving only a few lingering shadows and revealing that he was in a small storage closet. How convenient.
Surprisingly the shelves were almost full, bottle of pills lined each shelf along with gauze, creams, and metal instruments. He had hit the jackpot. Fletcher swung his mostly empty backpack to the floor and scanned the shelves. He grabbed gauze, a few tubes of ointment, some painkillers, disinfectant and a few scalpels just in case. Setting all of these items on the ground he organized them and began to put them in his backpack, arranging them so that there would be plenty of room for anything else he might find.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 6, 2017 2:16:33 GMT
Navigating the dark, windowless halls was beyond simple when you had night vision, thus Dexter was clearing rooms at an impressively fast rate. It was very pleasant to red-haired young man to not require the use of touch and hearing to make his way through the halls. All he could hear was his shoes against the tiles as his blue eyes searched for the "hidden treasure", the supply room. Even after clearing a decent amount of hallways and rooms he had only managed to discover the odd pieces of supplies that were either dropped or over looked. Dexter had naturally stashed them away, some supplies were definitely better than none! Every do often, Dexter's eyes swept down the halls and empty rooms before doing a quick check over his shoulder. His Umbrakinesis sensed the thick darkness that surrounded him, which meant that chances are he would see people before they saw him.
In Dexter's case he could risk being a little louder since he had the important advantage of sight on his side, however, this didn't mean he was invincible. The thought was always a terrible conclusion to come to, but there were a lot of dangerous creatures in the world now that could easily make a loner like himself into a corpse. The young man found himself at than intersection of four corridors, which meant that he had to make a choice and hopefully not waste an ounce of time. Although Dexter hadn't been in the Nootau General Hospital for long, he was starting to feel a little bit fidgety. The young survivor always had issues with staying in locations outside of his base for even the shortest periods of time. His home was a kingdom of darkness where his Umbrakinesis thrived and unfortunately outside the walls was a very dangerous place to be. There weren't always shadows and the layouts of each building were as unfamiliar as the last, which made his advantages fewer.
Dexter habitually chewed his lower lip at the thought, but soon stopped himself from focusing on his nerves. The red-headed introvert had work to accomplish, which meant there was no time to loiter around the intersection! Before Dexter even had time to pick a direction, a loud bang sounded from one of the hallways, the one to Dexter's right to be precise. The noise caused him to jump and he nearly crashed right into a wheelchair someone had left haphazardly in the hallway. Although a catastrophically loud sound similar to the one he heard could mean danger, Dexter figured it was best to investigate. For all he knew it was merely a piece of plaster falling down from the ceiling. Thus he turned down the right hallway and continued down a sequence of corresponding hallways at a quick rate, if there was something there perhaps it would still be distracted. If said thing was still distracted, then surely he would still be able to slip out of the building before being detected.
When Dexter reached the hallway he found the same old corridors he'd seen a million times over. The red-headed man cautiously continued down the hallway as silently as he could manage. His blue eyes caught sight of an open door, but before he could reach it his worst enemy filtered out of its doorway. The pain began to border around his eyes instantly and the male with night vision instantly stumbled backwards with a yelp.
"OW! DAMMIT!" Dexter couldn't help, but yell as he felt himself lose balance and crash into the hard tiles of the hospital floor. His head hit the tiles, which caused some more terrible pains to appear. Light was truly his arch-nemesis!
Immediately, Dexter shut his eyes tight as his hands began to fumble for the goggles hanging lazily around his neck. When he finally managed to get a firm grasp on the protective goggles, he brought them up to cover blue eyes. Hopefully whoever was within the room wasn't violent or on edge, because Dexter was definitely vulnerable after the sudden burst of light blindsided him. The red-head's hands slipped under his goggles to rub his aching eyes for moment, light was truly the worst. Finally he removed his hands and began to blink away the pain that was ebbing away a little bit. Slowly, Dexter sat up and began to rub the back of his head while he attempted to take in his surroundings.
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Post by Fletcher Cazden on Mar 6, 2017 3:07:13 GMT
Fletcher was almost done in the supply room and was deciding what to do with the rest of the supplies, he could probably find a way to block the door so that nobody else could get in and return later with a few more empty bags. It would be daylight in a couple hours, but he could probably make it back to his temporary base and return to the hospital before then. If the need arose he could hide out in the hospital till night fell once again and slip away under the cover of darkness.
He decided that this plan was the best option and picked up his backpack, turning towards the door. He ducked his head and was about to step out when a loud yell startled him. It had come from just outside the doorway. There was no telling who was out there and whether or not they were dangerous. Fletcher pulled the boxcutter from his pocket, he’d found it in the basement of his parent’s house before he’d left and decided to make use of it. Flicking it open he approached the doorway slowly, holding the torch out in front of him. He peered around the corner and swept the hallway with his eyes. They landed on a young man around his age, with fiery red hair and strange looking goggles. He was sitting on the floor rubbing the back of his head.
Fletcher retracted his weapon and shoved it back into his pocket, the boy looked harmless enough. He stayed vigilant though, there was no telling with people these days. Some were desperate to survive, sometimes too desperate. They would do absolutely anything it takes to eat. He would know, he’d once run into a small group that had resorted to cannibalism and had attempted to roast him alive. He shuddered at the memory, there were burn scars on his back and legs from the incident and he prefered to forget the incident had ever happened.
“Are you alright?”
The young male kept his voice low and calm for fear of scaring the boy into violence. He took a step into the hallway, ducking as he went under the door frame, and then another until he was fully out of the supply closet. He leaned forward, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to make himself look smaller and less threatening, it was something he used to do around children as it was understandable that his sheer height could be frightening.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 6, 2017 3:56:53 GMT
Ever since the day the apocalypse started, light had become the bane of Dexter's existence especially since a slight ray was similar to somebody shining a flashlight into your eyes. At times his entire vision would do white from the bright rays coming to rue his vision. For a few moments, Dexter felt a tad disoriented from the sudden light attack. The young red-head's mind was spinning a little bit as it gradually pulled itself back together. That was when Dexter finally noticed the tall stranger with long black hair and pale face. Dexter kept blinking the pain from around his eyes to the point where he missed when the stranger slipped the weapon back into his pocket, heck he hadn't even see him take it out. However, there was one event that Dexter noticed instantly, since the man drew a tad closer his damned light did too. It was clear that eye contact was not happening with that dastardly light lurking about, thus with no choice Dexter looked towards the ground.
The pain still circled his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as terrible as the initial light attacked. Dexter lifted his right hand to shield his eyes from the vicious rays of the man's torch. When the stranger spoke, Dexter glanced up and bit and noticed that the stranger stepped into the hallway. The voice the stranger spoke in was calm and low, and something about his demeanor made Dexter feel like he was being treated like a child. Then again, that could possibly mean that the stranger thought of him as harmless which would work in Dexter's favour. Of course, Dexter wasn't going to attack the stranger since the guy didn't seem keen on hurting him, but should it turn to violence then it was positive.
"I'm fine, it's just the damn light," Dexter answered with a bit of annoyance edging his voice. Now, Dexter couldn't blame the stranger for carrying a light, especially since he could sense a lot of darkness within the hallways. On most occasions, Dexter wasn't keen on sharing even the slightest bit of information about himself, but considering the fact that the young man with red hair was shielding his eyes from the torch it was likely that the stranger would put two and two together.
"I also didn't know there was somebody else around here. Was that you who made the noise? Cause you scared me half to Hell with that loud bang. I thought I had gotten myself into something really bad." Dexter honestly wanted to know if the stranger was responsible for the loud noise he heard, mostly because as mentioned previously, the dark-haired man didn't seem dangerous.
Eventually, Dexter's eyes adjusted slightly to the torch, or at least enough where he no longer had to shield his eyes from the rays. With the utmost caution, Dexter withdrew his hand in order to get a proper look at the kindly stranger. It seemed that the man with long hair was trying to make himself look smaller, probably in order to make himself a tad less frightening. This mostly just made Dexter feel like he was truly being treated like a kid when he was a grown man. The red-head blinked a couple of more times before lifting himself to his feet, his eyes looking down at the grubby, white tiles the entire time.
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Post by Fletcher Cazden on Mar 6, 2017 22:45:44 GMT
The man looked down, shielding his eyes from the light. He seemed to be in a lot of pain. Fletcher’s hypothesis was proved when the man spoke, cursing about the light. He thought for a moment before deciding and he shook the torch violently, promptly putting out the fire. It was a risk, but one he was willing to take if it meant leaving with minimal harm.
“Yes, the noise you heard was me kicking in the door to that room back there.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to scare anybody, I didn’t think anyone else was here.
When the other man stood, Fletcher took a cautious step backwards. It was strange how his eyes never left the floor. He wondered if there was something wrong with his eyes, maybe he’d been underground for a long time and wasn’t used to the light. It didn’t really matter as long as he didn’t attack Fletcher.
“I suppose I should leave now, I’d hate to keep you.”
It had been a while since Fletcher had last spoke aloud, he didn’t much like talking to himself so he usually kept quiet. It felt good to not be alone for once. For most of Fletcher’s life he had hated being around others, they always exhausted him beyond belief. This was different though, he felt, relieved almost. It was a strange thought, he hadn’t felt relief in what seemed like forever, not since the bombs dropped. Sighing, he turned to go, taking one last glance behind him before starting to walk down the hallway.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 7, 2017 0:01:42 GMT
The pain around Dexter's eyes began to ebb away quickly after the stranger's light faded. The sound of the torch shaking until the flames went out was what cause the red-head to realize what happened. His eyes widened from the act, did the stranger seriously just put out the light for his sake? Truthfully, it surprised Dexter greatly since most would grab any advantage they could possibly get in most situations. There were zero laws which meant people could do as they pleased whether it was morally good or wrong. This caused Dexter to suspect that perhaps the stranger had a trick up his sleeves, maybe he had pyrokinesis or some other sort of light-based ability.
For a few moments, Dexter stared in surprise at the long-haired man before saying, "Um, thanks."
Dexter quietly stood and watched the stranger as he explained the door and how the long-haired man was indeed the source of the bang. In response to the explanation, Dexter merely nodded as he attempted to try and figure out what the stranger was thinking. The guy seemed beyond nice, especially since he'd banished the flames for the sake of Dexter's light sensitive eyes. Based off a presumption, Dexter decided to guess that the man was maybe a little naive, which could possibly mean trouble for the stranger. With a few quick glances the red-head checked his surroundings to give them a proper inspection only to find the words "STORAGE ROOM" written on the door that the man had broken into. Upon seeing the letters, Dexter released a quiet sigh of frustration; he would feel far to guilty to take what the stranger had found. Which meant that chances are the entire supply hunt was going to be a total bust. When the man decided to turn and leave, Dexter knew he had to at least say something. The guy seemed awfully kind and probably a bit too much considering he didn't take the advantage the torch gave him.
"Wait," Dexter started in order to get the stranger's attention. "I suggest that next time you be a little bit more cautious of those you meet. For all you knew I could've been a damned serial killer awakened because of the fact that there are zero laws. I can already guess that most people wouldn't have put out that torch knowing that it gave them an edge, and they have a damn good reason. You seem like a nice guy, but that isn't always going to help you nowadays." Dexter stated his opinion, which was something he wouldn't have done under normal circumstances.
In this case, Dexter couldn't stand by and let the long-haired man continue easily trusting any individual, it just seemed like a bad idea to the red-headed introvert. Especially since the stranger had gotten rid of the light since it bothered Dexter's eyes, thus the maybe helpful advice was one of the few things Dexter could surrender as a thank-you.
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Gifted
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Finnegan |
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I joined in January 1970. I've made 26 posts and threads.
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Post by Fletcher Cazden on Mar 7, 2017 21:10:56 GMT
The man thanked him, seeming rather surprised. It was understandable though, not many people were too kind these days. Though he could hardly see in the sudden darkness, Fletcher could tell the boy was grateful. A corner of his mouth quirked up in a partial smile, he enjoyed being kind to others.
A sigh from the red-head caught his attention and he turned back. He seemed troubled and Fletcher wanted to make sure he was okay. He smiled softly in the darkness, the stranger was kind enough to give him advice, though he was well aware of how most people were.
“I realize that kindness can get you killed these days, but it doesn’t hurt to try and allies are everything. I’m usually pretty good at reading people and you seemed nice enough, besides, I can defend myself. I appreciate the advice though.”
Fletcher may have been an introvert most of his life, but it was still nice to have others around. It was a lonely life he lead, but he was trying to fix that. Making allies was his best chance of surviving and it would be a nice change. He put his hand out to help the red-headed stranger to his feet.
“Name’s Fletcher, nice to meet you. You’re welcome to any supplies you find in the closet back there. I’d hate to keep them all to myself.”.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 7, 2017 23:24:39 GMT
Easily, Dexter noticed the smile that appeared on the man's face; the red-head guessed that it was because he was polite enough to thank the stranger. Naturally, Dexter was going to act somewhat polite considering the stranger didn't even threaten him or brought him any harm. The long-haired man continued smiling, even after Dexter's annoyed sigh. It was rare for the red-head to smile, mostly because in the midst of the apocalypse there weren't that many things to truthfully smile over except for a good supply run really. The lack of interaction with fellow survivors simply made smiling a rare occasion for Dexter, thus seeing someone this happy almost seemed peculiar. Dexter wouldn't have doubted if he still wore that surprised look upon his face; it seemed to be a common emotion during this conversation. When the stranger spoke about allies, the red-head simply had to nod in agreement. The unknown man was by no means wrong, allies in an apocalyptic world were by all means valuable, however, that meant trusting people which was something that Dexter was absolutely terrible at.
"You're not wrong, but if you plan to be nice you best be careful," Dexter responded. As stated previously, the stranger was very kind and the red-head hoped that no harm would come to him.
When the stranger offered a helping hand to get back to his feet, Dexter hesitated. The red-haired introvert still held his trust issues, but he had to admit that the stranger was undeniably nice. A wolf in sheep's clothing perhaps? With that in mind, Dexter took a few more seconds to observe the stranger. Should anything happen, Dexter was likely to have the advantage since his night vision and umbrakinesis thrived in the darkness. So Dexter took the hand and got back onto his feet. Once the red-head was once again on his feet, he shoved his hands into the pocket of his striped sweater while he listened to the stranger introduce himself and essentially offer him supplies.
"Seriously? You would let me take some supplies," Dexter began. Once again, he was caught off guard by the stranger's mass amount of kindness. This became one of the rare occasions when Dexter did smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it. Saves me turning this place upside down looking for medical supplies," he responded politely. For a moment, Dexter paused as he realized that he hadn't introduced himself yet. "I'm Dexter and nice to meet you as well."
From what Dexter knew, daylight wasn't too far away which meant he didn't have much time to gather some things and leave. Thus, he went into the supply closet and looked around at the shelves. The stranger, whose name was Fletcher, had really hit the jackpot. Despite the copious amount of supplies, Dexter thought it was best to only take the bear minimum of what he needed. Fletcher had been kind enough to not threaten him, put out his torch and even offered him the supplies originally.
"Looks like you really hit the jackpot here," Dexter commented well he slid his pack from his shoulders.
The pack made a little bit of noise upon hitting the hard floor of the hospital, but it wasn't anything worrisome. Dexter unzipped the top and began going through what was left on the shelves, only taking what he needed.
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Post by Fletcher Cazden on Mar 12, 2017 1:22:15 GMT
Fletcher hadn’t smiled in a long time, but he felt it was well deserved. The young red-head was very polite for someone in the midst of an apocalypse, it gave him hope that maybe the world hadn’t completely gone to shit.
“I’ll try my best, I thought it’d be best to be as polite as possible because you’re the first person who hasn’t threatened me on site. I greatly appreciate that.”
There was obvious confusion when the man, Dexter, heard his offer. It made sense though, most people kept everything to themselves and would fight to the death to get or protect supplies. Fletcher didn’t feel right doing that, he had never been a very selfish person and was happy to continue his long history of kindness. It wasn’t often you met someone who wasn’t trying to kill you.
“Yeah, I was pretty lucky. I couldn’t quite believe it myself. Please help yourself though, we can block it up when you’re done. It can be our little secret.”
He stood back, leaning against the wall and keeping watch while Dexter was in the supply closet. Fletcher still couldn’t believe his luck, it was amazing that the place was still stocked, he thought the entire place had been scavenged, but clearly he was wrong. If they could get it blocked up well enough no one would suspect anything and both of them could come and go as needed. Fletcher perked up at the thought of having an ally, it would be his first. He was unsure of how to go about asking Dexter to be allies though.
Perhaps it would be better to wait, but what were the chances that they would meet again. It seemed highly unlikely. IT was now or never, most likely a once in a lifetime chance. Fletcher straightened up to his full height and turned to the supply closet.
“Dexter, I wish to inquire if you would desire to be allies. I assure you our partnership would be mutually beneficial."
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 12, 2017 20:17:03 GMT
From what the red-head could see with his night vision was that a majority of the medical supplies was in good condition. Naturally a couple of items had gotten knocked over, which was probably due to the shaking that accompanied the impact of Madman. While Dexter went through the assortment of medical supplies, he quietly listened to Fletcher and listened to the surrounding noise. For all he knew, this man who he had just met was a regular who didn't have the confidence to attack him in case he was a gifted. It was a conclusion that the more observant could reach considering the fact that Dexter never carried weapons on his person; his umbrakinesis could always defend him should it be necessary. Lastly, going out during the cover of night made interactions with other survivors a rather rare event.
"Yeah, that's a fair point. I'm just not keen on trying to make enemies instantly. Plus you did kind of had a light, so even if I wanted to threaten you it seemed like a terrible idea." Truthfully, Dexter did not have a choice in the matter of threatening or not threatening since light pained his eyes horribly. Of course if Fletcher had decided to act aggressively, he would not have hesitated to defend himself.
It was strange hearing that somebody actually desired to share supplies; Fletcher even implied that he could come back for more medical supplies. The red-head was left to presume that perhaps the other male was well acquainted with the difficulties of surviving the apocalypse. Sympathy was one of the primary ideas that Dexter could believe caused Fletcher to act so generously towards someone he'd only met a few moments ago, however, he'd also spoken about how most people acted menacingly towards him on sight. Dexter decided it was best to guess that maybe it was a mixture of both.
"Thanks again, I really appreciate it. If there's some way I can repay you, feel free to just ask," Dexter said. The red head felt that it was right to at least offer some sort of service in trade for the supplies he needed desperately.
Honestly, Dexter had little to no medical based supplies back at his base, but nobody needed to hear about that. The less people knew about him, the less likely they would discover his weaknesses. Thus, being a closed off introvert seemed like a positive set of traits for Dexter. As the red-head began putting the last of the needed supplies into his bag, he heard Fletcher's question. Momentarily, the red-haired man froze as the prospect of allies came into his mind. Allies were a good thing since it meant that it was probable that there was one less person out there planning to kill or harm you right on sight. So what was the problem? Dexter's attitude towards people was the real problem. Ever since the start of the apocalypse and even a tiny bit before that, Dexter had difficulties trusting an individual right off the bat. Not to mention the red-headed introvert was never really good at interacting with other people; his lack of cooperation being an excellent example of his poor people skills.
For a moment, Dexter hesitated before answering with a question. "Are you sure you would want to be an ally with me? I'm not the best with people." Saying a true statement was the best plan that Dexter could some up with.
Having an ally would definitely be a positive thing, especially since it would mean having somebody he could talk to. Even introverts needed some social activity; humans are social creatures after all. Yet there was still that uncertain feeling in Dexter's gut due to the fact that he didn't know too much about Fletcher. The red-head quickly finished his packing and zipped up the darkly coloured backpack before hefting it back over his shoulders. Once the pack was secure, Dexter exited the storage closest and entered the messy hallway. Due to his night vision, Dexter noticed Fletcher pretty quickly since he was turned towards the supply closet now. The mysterious man certainly wasn't a heavy drain on the red-head's social energy. He was polite and didn't seem to possess many traits that the young introvert despised, or at least hadn't displayed them yet. A partnership wouldn't be a bad thing, that's if Fletcher could put up with Dexter's social based habits at least.
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Post by Fletcher Cazden on Mar 22, 2017 0:28:05 GMT
There was a good chance this whole thing could blow up in his face, but he tried to think positively for once in his life. Dexter seemed like a decent person, just someone who was trying his best to survive. Although Fletcher had made the offer he wasn’t going to let his guard down. There was too much at stake for him to do that.
“Alright, I’ll keep your offer in mind.”
In truth, Fletcher had no intention on taking Dexter up on his offer. He had little to no trouble surviving on his own. Besides, he had no ideas on how Dexter could repay him anyways, so it seemed useless to try. Fletcher leaned against the doorframe, watching the redhead fill his backpack. He froze at Fletcher’s question, seeming unsure of how to respond. That was to be expected, they had only just met. He realized it was a strange thing to ask during a first meeting, but the chances they would meet again were slim and Fletcher wanted to have at least one person he could trust to not kill him on sight.
“I believe I am quite sure. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Not everyone is good at dealing with others, to be honest, I’m the exact same. It would still be nice to have an ally. Then we would both have at least one person we can possibly trust not to try and rob or kill us on sight.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The sun would be coming up soon and he didn’t want to be caught out in broad daylight. It was easier to scavenge at night, less people were out and it was harder to be spotted. Another good reason to be out at night is that most of the animals were asleep, so as long as you didn’t disturb a nest then you were generally safe.
“I realize it’s a strange thing to ask, especially since this is our first meeting, but the likelihood of us meeting again is small. It would be more favourable to make an alliance now. If we ever do meet again, then we’ll know that we can at least trust each other not to harm one another,” Fletcher closed his eyes “If that makes any sense to you.”
He tried to smile politely, but it came out as more of a grimace. He felt like instead of making the situation easier, he was making it awkward. He really wasn’t any good at dealing with other people, he had no idea how he’d made it through his job in America. The young introvert could feel his little bit of confidence crumbling. He sighed again, resigned to silence.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 22, 2017 2:15:23 GMT
Even if Fletcher had no desire to take the offer Dexter had given, it didn't really matter. There was the common saying that 'It's the thought that counts' and that could by all means apply to the current situation. Thus, even if the opportunity wasn't taken the young red-head felt good about at least giving the offer. His acquaintance had done nothing, but act kindly towards him and Dexter felt that he had to respect Fletcher for that primary reason. In silence the red-headed introvert listened to Fletcher as he spoke about the alliance idea a little bit more. All the while Dexter's mind weighed pros and cons alongside the amount of time he had left to ponder over the alliance idea. The menacing daylight was soon to arrive which meant it was time to work quick. The man stated some valid points and most of them seemed to be located on the pro list. The red-head crossed his arms while he continued to listen to Fletcher. " Yeah, but we don't know that much about each other," Dexter muttered. He tried to make it inaudible, or least it make it sound incoherent enough to not be understood. Trust was something that Dexter was terrible at since the apocalypse seemed to give reason for betrayal and not to mention his experiences beforehand did not assist his views. Only a mere few weeks before the apocalypse started had he been ditched and nearly hauled off to jail. Thus, for obvious reasons, trust was a difficult thing for the gifted red-head to handover easily. Dexter remained guarded in his expressions and continued to stand with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned the young man through the amber tinted lenses of his googles. His thoughts nagged him to get a move on since sunrise would be arriving soon. " If you don't mind, can we walk and talk? As you probably notice, light seriously hurts my eyes and I don't wanna end up being caught in the sunlight," Dexter said. He didn't bother waiting for an answer and just began to walk down the hall towards the closest exit. He may have had no clue of where the storage closets were, but Dexter at least knew his way around. All the while, he would take a glance at Fletcher and listen to what the man was saying now. The red-headed introvert found the next sentence to be released from the man's mouth to be rather awkward. His dark blue eyes watched as Fletcher gave a poor attempt at a smile, clearly he had caught onto the awkwardness rising. The feeling was something that Dexter had grown familiar with since he wasn't the best in social situations. Closing himself off and only interacting with others from time to time seemed like a better option most of the time. Due to being able to relate, Dexter could easily imagine that the man's confidence would start to fall. Which meant he would have to say something to mend it. " Makes perfect sense," he started. " You want there to be one less person to worry about bringing you harm. That there is somebody out there that you can hopefully rely on. Which is basically something that everyone wants." There was a pitiful sigh at the end of Dexter's words. " So, I guess I'm alright with being your ally," Dexter answered simply. It was mostly difficult to say due to his trust issues. There was a pause before he added one last thing. "But don't think I'm going to tell you a bunch of stuff about me. I'm not big on opening up, okay?"That was always the largest issue for Dexter. The red-head was just one of many other people who had problems opening up, whether it be feelings or just sharing simple facts. He just disliked the idea since it meant providing information about oneself and almost seemed like letting somebody into his personal space. The red-headed introvert valued his space to the point where any bout of information wa similar to letting someone get closer. Thus, Dexter felt that informing his new ally of just that was of the utmost important. While Dexter walk, he carefully stepped over fallen rubble, his eyes finding it easy to pick out the clumps in the darkness.
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Post by Fletcher Cazden on Apr 1, 2017 3:26:04 GMT
So gather ye demons, it seems it's your day I sin but I've paid more than ten thousand graves Fletcher nodded at Dexter’s response. He was quite right, they had only just met. Little to no information could very well lead to distrust. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to think of the right thing to say.
“Well I suppose it might work better if we got to know each other. For now we both know that we can at least count on one another to not be hostile. This doesn’t mean we have to trust each other, we can have-” He paused, thinking of the right way to put exactly what he was thinking into words. “Well, let’s just call it a mutual understanding.”
A tiny bit of light shone through the window down the hall and Fletcher cursed himself for getting distracted. He needed to make it back to his base soon or he might get caught by scavengers, or animals. He couldn’t decide which was worse. It was a relief when Dexter suggested they walk and talk. It definitely wasn’t hard to tell that the redhead had an aversion to light. It might some kind of mutation or something that happened because of the bombs. He wouldn’t doubt that others had been affected as he had. Powers were both a blessing and a curse though. On one hand, you could protect yourself better and it made certain tasks easier. On the other hand, it made people look at you strange, like you’d grown a second head, or a third arm. People were less likely to trust you. He had been attacked several times by others just because they had found out he was “gifted”.
A small weight lifted off his shoulders when Dexter finally agreed to being allies. Fletcher felt just the slightest bit safer with the thought of having someone out there he could, well, trust wasn’t the best word. They could sort of agree that fighting each other wouldn’t be in their best interest.
“I completely agree, I’ve never been big on opening up either. I understand that you’d still be apprehensive. Just because we’ve agreed to be allies does not mean we need to spill our life stories to each other.”
Fletcher tried his best to keep up with Dexter, but it was almost impossible. He assumed Dexter had some sort of night vision, that was the only reasonable explanation for why he could navigate so well in the dark. Suppressing a growl of frustration, he righted himself once again. All he could do to find his way was to place a hand on the wall and hope he didn’t run into any stairs.
thanks[ahref="http://adoxographyv2.boards.net/user/285"style="color:#c2ac5d;"]malin
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Post by Dexter Adams on Apr 1, 2017 16:53:32 GMT
There were very few reason for Dexter to become allies Fletcher, but there was also nearly zero cons to the idea. The man had acted in a manner that was by no means threatening and hopefully it would remain that way. Receiving little to no hostility between at least somebody in this apocalyptic world was a perk that most people craved, thus the alliance idea seemed more favourable than making a possible enemy. The red-head glanced at Fletcher when he realized he had heard his trust comment; he had failed at making it inaudible. Yet it did not seem to be a bother considering that the man understood the issue and perhaps even how trust wasn't an easy thing to give. The benefit in the alliance was primarily based upon having somebody who won't instantly attack the other, which was better than nothing. Dexter gave a small shrug. " Better than nothing in my books, so call it whatever you want. It's one less person I have to worry about," he stated simply. Only a moment afterwards the red-head swore under his breath. Shining out of the window was a little bit of light; the worst enemy for the introvert who possessed night vision. It seemed the sun was going to illuminate Nootau shortly, which was a major plight for Dexter. The very concept of having to stumble his way home while the coming sunlight harmed his eyes was unplesant. Although, it was probable that it was merely sunrise which meant he likely had time to hastily make his way home before the light got to its worst. Despite the light being miniscule at the moment, Dexter pulled his hood up in hopes it would somewhat protect his eyes. He placed his hands into his pockets while he released an annoyed sigh. He was in a terrible position and the only solution was to hurry and pray that he wouldn't have to confront the sun on this day. Feeling a little pressured to hurry, the red-head quickened his pace a tad and tried to make certain that Fletcher wouldn't fall behind, however, when the man spoke again Dexter looked back to find he was having difficulties keeping up. The red-head breathed out a long breathe and slowed his pace down. " True, it was more of a warning than anything else. I just find it annoying when people I don't know too well fire off a bunch of questions. You know what I mean?" Dexter responded, glancing back again. This was going far too slow! The redhead sighed again and walked back to Fletcher and offered a hand. " Here,take my hand and I'll lead ya. I can be your eyes and I don't have to loiter here longer than I would like to continue this conversation," Dexter offered. He could even warn the tall man about any obstacles littering the hallways. It seemed like the best solution to solve this slow moving problem with the unfortunate expense of loosing some personal space.
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