oujizzle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
byakkun) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
princeship2014-10-07 01:35 am
byakkun) wrote in princeship2014-10-07 01:35 am
(no subject)
"Attention please, attention please. All citizens are to return to their homes immediately. I repeat, all citizens are to return to their homes immediately. All citizens found outside at this time will be subject to prosecution.
Attention please, attention please. All citizens are to return--"
[ The rain in this part of the country had always been a gloomy, depressing thing, but Fon was glad for it now more than ever. With the gloom came darkness, and with the rain came concealment; his footsteps were quickly erased, and the pour of water muffled any and all movement he made as he made his way to the edge of the city and through the wrought-iron fence barring him from the outermost wall. Just a bit more and he'd be free. Just a bit more, and he'd finally be out of this city.
He was prepared, of course. He'd packed a knapsack with the bare essentials, he had his switchblade on him. He'd be relying mostly on his nimbleness and his quick thinking to get him through the lands devastated by the virus and to the metropolis miles away. He'd calculated the distance ahead of time, of course, and already planned out the quickest and safest route there. It should take at most a week, and that was if he hadn't managed to hotwire a car to help him along on his journey.
And then from there? He'd lend his aid to the Fireflies. That was where their main base of operations was, after all.
Fon popped free of the fence and quickly ducked behind a building as the heavy rumble of a tank vibrated the ground underfoot. This close to the gate the guard would be tripled, so he had to move quickly and keep on his feet. He had an idea of the guard schedule, but better to be safe than sorry... Fon bit his lip, glancing back at the building that he'd hidden behind, and reached back to gently try and pry the window open. No good. As if it would be that easy.
But he was nothing if not prepared, so he quickly unslung his pack and reached in, rummaging for a few moments before pulling out a bundle of cloth. He unwrapped it, then rewrapped it around his fist, and then turned to break the window open carefully, hoping against hope that there wasn't an alarm or something-- especially given the derelict state of it. He didn't think they had the manpower to spare this far out, anyway.
Fon waited a few moments. No alarm. He breathed a sigh of relief, then gathered his things and hauled himself into the room, splattering mud and water everywhere as he landed. ]
Attention please, attention please. All citizens are to return--"
[ The rain in this part of the country had always been a gloomy, depressing thing, but Fon was glad for it now more than ever. With the gloom came darkness, and with the rain came concealment; his footsteps were quickly erased, and the pour of water muffled any and all movement he made as he made his way to the edge of the city and through the wrought-iron fence barring him from the outermost wall. Just a bit more and he'd be free. Just a bit more, and he'd finally be out of this city.
He was prepared, of course. He'd packed a knapsack with the bare essentials, he had his switchblade on him. He'd be relying mostly on his nimbleness and his quick thinking to get him through the lands devastated by the virus and to the metropolis miles away. He'd calculated the distance ahead of time, of course, and already planned out the quickest and safest route there. It should take at most a week, and that was if he hadn't managed to hotwire a car to help him along on his journey.
And then from there? He'd lend his aid to the Fireflies. That was where their main base of operations was, after all.
Fon popped free of the fence and quickly ducked behind a building as the heavy rumble of a tank vibrated the ground underfoot. This close to the gate the guard would be tripled, so he had to move quickly and keep on his feet. He had an idea of the guard schedule, but better to be safe than sorry... Fon bit his lip, glancing back at the building that he'd hidden behind, and reached back to gently try and pry the window open. No good. As if it would be that easy.
But he was nothing if not prepared, so he quickly unslung his pack and reached in, rummaging for a few moments before pulling out a bundle of cloth. He unwrapped it, then rewrapped it around his fist, and then turned to break the window open carefully, hoping against hope that there wasn't an alarm or something-- especially given the derelict state of it. He didn't think they had the manpower to spare this far out, anyway.
Fon waited a few moments. No alarm. He breathed a sigh of relief, then gathered his things and hauled himself into the room, splattering mud and water everywhere as he landed. ]
no subject
mud covered noiz’s boots and the lower half of his pants, soaking through fabric and drying to his skin--not that it bothers him any, he can’t feel it. but the circuit board he has tucked under his jacket won’t make it to the car he’d left a couple miles outside the city wall if it gets wet. how troublesome.
he’s already memorized the guards’ schedules, knows when one’s supposed to come this way--knows there’s none of them in this area now, so he ducks inside of one of the closeby buildings to search for something to cover it with, something to keep it safe enough on the trip outside because hell if he’s going to let the one thing he came this far for get fucked up this fast. it’s not as if it’d be easy to run inside to find another to replace it.
it’s after he picks the lock and makes his way inside that he hears--a window shattering? it shouldn’t be a guard. . and there shouldn’t be any of them this far inside, so he’s not too concerned. still, his hand goes back, palm pressing to the butt of the gun shoved down the back of his waistband, other hand keeping it’s grip on the circuit board, and eyes focused forward, in the direction of the broken window.
just to watch as the man climbs through it, an eyebrow raising in response as he watches him gather his things and move about. a sack, cloth wrapped around his fist, dirty as hell. . probably just another escapee making his way out of the city. definitely nothing to concern himself over--so noiz turns, boots clanking loud against the ground as he moves to search another room. ]
no subject
there is a long moment where he just remains crouched behind a nearby desk, trying to pick out wayward noises in between the pour of rain outside and the frantic beating of his own heart. he licks his lips, tries to focus on a point in the darkness as his eyes adjust at a rapid pace.
there it is again - and through the doorway, he thinks he can see a flash of... green? if it wasn't a guard, then it was another refugee, or perhaps a robber... the criminals in this city weren't nothing to sneeze at, so Fon grips the knife he had tight in his fingers, trying to reassure himself while mentally going over everything he'd learned. he was a scrappy fighter but certainly not something to overlook. he'd held his own in a few tough fights though with varying results.
he makes the decision before he's had the chance to properly think it through and begins to creep after the figure. if it were a criminal, second-guessing himself would be the worst thing to do in this sort of situation. maybe it was a looter?
he turns the corner, sees a hunched over back - green, again, what the hell - and draws in a deep breath. it didn't seem as though he knew Fon was there... maybe that'd work to his advantage.
especially if that weird lump at the back of his pants was what Fon strongly suspected it to be.
he presses himself flat to the wall, but gives himself enough leverage to be able to turn and see what the other person was doing. he's carrying something... definitely a looter. Fon swore internally, scanning the area for something heavy he could wield if it came to that-- and, seeing nothing, ducks into the room quietly to try and make his way towards the figure. ]