Kill It With Fire (invasion rp)

It's so fucking cold," Nick commented to his brother, Nate, in sign language as they sat down next to the fire they had made, after a not so good meal of rabbit. Nick was the older of the two Norris brothers at the age of 22. Nate followed behind by four years, at 18. They came from a family of the deep South, that was all about reputation and pride. The father of the family was a big time hunter, and introduced his son to the sport at the ripe age of three. Due to the loud gun shot being too close to Nick's developing ears, he lost his hearing at the age three. Ten months later, Nate was born. Sometimes the younger brother wondered if he was born just so the Norris' could have one healthy child. Nick had told him that it was very likely. Nick continued to learn how to shoot a gun (it's not like he could re-loose his hearing from it) once his parents started getting comfortable with being around their older son again. It took them awhile to accept it. Nate, their favorite, never got to shoot a gun, however. But he did learn how to use a bow and arrow, because in a hunting family like that Norris', one can't not learn how to do some from of animal slaughter.

"Well, we are headed north, so of course it's cold" Nate reminded him in sign language. "Nothing left here in the South." Before the invasion of whatever the hell those things were, Nick was the protector. His younger brother was narcoleptic, and once the parents were told this from the doctors, they also shunned Nate, like they did his brother. Nate was supposed to be the healthy, perfect baby. But instead he fell asleep at random times and even became temporarily paralyzed at random moments when awake. So Nick protected his younger brother from his crazy parents and snobby younger sister (the new perfect child once Nate suddenly became not good enough). But they were all dead now. And Nate was better at all this boy scout stuff than Nick was. So the younger was now taking care of the older. Nick couldn't hear if the plant people were coming, if they were about to be under attack, nor could he get dinner, as the shooting of his gun would attract the plant people. He couldn't do anything helpful. And Nick didn't like that.

Nick could remember when this first started. He had been listening to music. Sort of. If he turned it up loud enough, he could feel the vibrations. Normally he didn't listen to his music because it annoyed the parents, but they were out with Nora, his sister, and Nate didn't care. But when the parents didn't return an hour after they said they would, Nick got suspicious. After checking on Nate, who had fallen asleep with his heavy duty headphones on in attempt to block out Nick's music, Nick set out into the farm town. He found a neighbor, looking like he was in a trance, walking down the street. Nick could tell by his lip movements that he was saying, "the sound." It pissed off Nick a bit that he couldn't hear whatever was going on, but maybe it was good that he couldn't. Nick encountered a couple other neighbors doing the same thing before he really started to freak out. The older son went back to watch his brother. When Nate finally woke up, he was tied to the computer chair he had fell asleep in. He heard the sound and got a glazed over look, but didn't try to make a break for it like the neighbors had. There wasn't much he could do tied to a chair. Nick had got Nate to explain this sound, but no matter how many times Nate tried to do this, Nick never understood what was so appealing about it. Why was it so magically enchanting? Why couldn't he understand the powers of it? Being deaf really put Nick in a depressing mood. He wanted to be able to experience what everyone else did. He wanted to be normal like everyone else. But then again, normal would have put him in the same place that the neighbors and parents are in. Probably dead.

"We should probably get going soon, as I just took a nap," Nate suggested, pulling Nick out of his thoughts. He was less likely to fall under a sleep attack if he had just slept. He looked back at the fire, which was almost dead, and dowsed it with a bit of water to make it die quicker. He repacked his blanket and water bottle in his back pack, which was pretty much all he had at the moment. He slung his bow over his shoulder and looked over at his brother, who was taking more time at packing.

The sound of a car made Nate's eyes go wide. Waving his arms to get his brother's attention, he signed, "I hear the truck. They're coming this way!" The two hid in the tall grass, waiting to see if the truck would keep going. They've (or Nate's) heard them pass by on occasion, but never this close. When the truck made a sound signifying that it stopped and heard slow footsteps, he urgently signed, "They're walking toward us!"

"You hide; run if you get the chance. I'll fight them off," Nick told his brother, motioning to his gun.

"Like hell! I'll help!"

"You don't have enough arrows left to kill that many and you don't know how to shoot. Let me feel important for once and do this!" The determination in Nick's eyes made Nate nod sadly as his brother glanced around above the tall grass. Nate didn't dare stick his head up and let them know that there was more than one. But he had his bow and arrow ready, just in case. Screw Nick. If he needed to help him, then he would help him. The squealing sounds and faster footsteps of the Weeds let Nate know that his brother had been spotted. He knew this wouldn't end well.

Nick looks like this and Nate looks very similar, but a bit more like this.

Riley looks like this.

The sound of the truck made Riley's heart pound as always. Her first instinct was to freeze, to lie perfectly still in her little hideout of foliage and wait for it to pass. But it didn't pass. It stopped. The next instinct was to run, get as far away from there as she possibly could, but like the stupid creature that she was, she ignored this. The truck wasn't close, and from the sound of it, the Weeds were moving away rather than towards her. That meant they were either really dumb or going for something else. And in her experience, the Weeds were far from dumb.

She dared a glance above the bush that was hiding her. The aliens seemed to be moving towards the tall grass on the other side of the little clearing from her, and when she saw what had caught their attention her heart skipped a beat. That was a head. A human head. And it was attached to a person. A real live human being.

The girl had been alone for awhile now. Not since the invasion, but still, longer than could be good for one's sanity. She knew there were other humans out there, small groups fighting, surviving. She'd met a few herself, but she'd never joined their groups. She still blamed herself for losing Jamie. It just seemed she wasn't wired to take care of another person beyond herself, and she couldn't join a group only to be their downfall. But right now that didn't matter. The boy was there, right there, and he was in trouble.

Riley's brain kicked into overdrive, working with the pieces of the puzzle, filling in blanks where she could, trying to make the situation turn out in her favor. This quick thinking seemed to be the only thing that had kept her alive this long. Hopefully it would be enough to keep them both from getting killed now.

The girl dropped her head, whispering a quick prayer as she pulled the machete from its sheath on her thigh. She had never been very religious, and she would admit she wasn't sure anyone was even listening, but saying the words, those simple words, calmed her, made her feel at ease. I don't want to die today. She drew in a deep breath and took another look. They were still moving in on the boy. Now or Never.

She moved as silently as she could with the level of speed the situation required. Surprise was always the best weapon when dealing with Weeds, and she would hold on to that element as long as she could. Riley dashed through the brush and towards the little group, dropping down on her belly as soon as the grass was tall enough. None of them noticed her, too intent on their prey.

She was on her feet again in a moment, swinging the big knife around in her hand to get a feel for it. Riley jumped at the nearest Weed, bringing her blade up to its neck and decapitating it from behind. Cutting them up wouldn't kill the Weeds, she'd learned, but it would slow them down, and they seemed to be slightly softer than she imagined humans would be.

Dropping the now-motionless Weed to the ground, she moved on to the next one, hoping that the boy would use whatever weapon he had, not just stand there dumbfounded. The green thing came at her in a sort of tackle, though she could tell it was still a little surprised, probably from its comrade's death. She met the alien, crouching low to thrust the machete through its stomach. It squealed in pain, but by the time she had ripped the blade out to the side it was silent. She heard gunshot and looked around at the boy, hoping to see several dead Weeds. What she saw instead was one, with the rest converging on the gunman.

Grace looks like this

Grace fiddled with a peice a string that had unfixed itself from her wool blanket. She sighed, finally deciding to pull it out and then wrapped the blanket tightly around her. Beside her, a boy sat, her bestfriend,Gregory. Grace scooted closer to him to try to keep warm, the cold, hard-wood floor of the one-story house making her shiver. When she had finally situated herself, Grace looked around the small house. They had nothing, just a small solar-powered heat generator, a map, weapons, and a few other nessacary things.

Grace yawned, and tried to close her eyes, but she was too afraid to. It had not always been this way for her and the boy who sat beside her, things had been different. They had lived as neighbors in a rather nice neighborhood somewhere in the North East of the United States for almost all of their life. The earth had flourished, and was growing full of people and life, and Grace had actaully been able to take a step outside without worrying about weather or not they had finally found them. It was when they came that everything changed, when the earth grew much more lonelier and people had to literally fight to survive, what was left of them anyways. The day the creatures had come, Grace had been blasting a new song she had found on the internet, and wanted to share it with her next door neighbor and friend, who was Gregory. So, she plugged in the headphones to her ipod and walked over to his house. Normally, his parents werent home during the day, so Grace could just walk into Gregory's house, but they were home today though. She stopped at the living room entrance, and tried to explain why she had come over, but Gregory's parents paid no mind. Considering her music was playing rather loud, Grace talked up some, but still they did not respond. And thats when Gregory's parents got up and walked out of the house,their dog Beau, had tried nudging them. But they just kept walking. At first, Grace had paid no mind to it, but soon she came to realize something strange had happened, she began to panic, and frantically ran around the house searching for Gregory until she finally found him in his normal hide out. So it was just them then, and then they were on the run.

Now, as she yawned again, Grace found herself trusting that everything would be okay for the moment, everything would be fine. They would make it to a safe place, and they would both stay together, no matter what, she had promised herself that. Grace curled up beside Gregory, and yawned again, she glanced at her wristwatch, that had been cracked down the middle, it was past midnight.

,"..promise you will protect me,Greggy, no matter what.," she said in her tired, baby voice as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Nate lay still for as long has his patience could muster. He wasn't hearing any gun fires going off. What was taking his brother so long?

Nick was straight up pissed. He hadn't used his gun in awhile, as the loud firing would attract Weeds if they were hunting and they had yet the opportunity to fight a gang of them off. And naturally he had forgot to load it last time it was used, oh so long ago. Cursing in his head, he hand felt around his belt until he found his row of ammo that was waiting there for him. He shuffled quickly so that he could put it in and start killing these monsters, but not so quick that it would cause him to put it in improperly and jam the gun. His hands stumbled a bit in his haste, and he glanced up quickly to see how close the enemy was. They were pretty darn close, and heading his way moreso by the second. But at least they weren't going toward Nate, who was a good ammount of meters behind him and closer toward the start of the woods. At least, that's where he left him.

Nate was slowly edging his way up toward his brother, bow ready. Would it even kill the things? He pondered this, but not long enough to come up with a satisfactory answer. Even if it didn't kill them, it would be enough to make them pause, and a pause was long enough to save his brother, right? But as he inched closer, hidden through the grass, but still able to see bits and pieces though the tops of the blades, he looked toward a noise of a girl and a Weed in short battle, with the Weed the defeated one. Well damn, if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd seen in a while, not that she had any competition with the lack of female contact--Nate couldn't really help his teenage hormones to act up for a second before he once again remembered the urgent topic of his brother's life. The Weeds had started to surround him, not noticing anyone else other than their victim, most even forgetting the girl.

Nick was able to get one fire out of his gun, knocking a Weed down, before another pulled the weapon out of his hands and threw it on the ground. The monster smashed it with his...foot, one may call it, but it was more like a tangle of thick roots. So the boy pulled out his only other weapon, which was a small dagger. He was able to stick it into one of the faces of the plant monsters, which seemed to make a noise of protest. But that was only a guess, Nick wasn't sure. But when the plant backed up and staggered down, the Weeds only got closer, filling in their comrade's gap, and seemed more angry. One pulled out a fancy shiny thing from God knows where; it could have been there the whole time for all Nick knew. When the thing that looked like a gun from the future was aimed at Nick, he knew it was over already. Looking over its shoulder, he saw Nate slowly standing. Nick shook his head firmly, trying to tell his brother no, but the boy didn't get it, and an arrow was shot into the plant's back. And the plant, unaffected, pulled the trigger of his weapon. "RUN!" Nick screamed, and it actually was a word with sound. It had the "deaf accent" that made it sound like he had spoke with his nose plugged or something, but Nate had clearly understood. And in less than a second, Nick had disapeared. Faded. Poof. A pile of clothes--Nick's clothes--landed in the dirt, but Nick was no more.

The plants all jumped at the spot where Nick had been, as if fighting just to stand where he stood, breathing in the carbon dioxide that was left when Nick was vaporized. Nate stood still for a second, but no longer than that, to let his brain register what just happened. His brother was gone? Just like that? The one that got shot turned around, as if remembering that there was someone else, and started storming over to Nate. Making his brother's last wish count, the younger boy made a mad dash toward the woods.

"No!" Riley yelled, seeing the weapon in the plant's hand. Memories of her sister's death came flooding back to her. She'd never seen the thing before then, hadn't know what it would do. It was obviously a weapon, but she had guessed it was some sort of laser gun. Instead it seemed it turned things into pure gas. Instead of being wounded, they disappeared, gone like a puff of smoke.

"RUN!" He didn't seem to be yelling at her, and that was when she spotted the other boy, armed with a bow and arrows. She lunged at the Weed with the weapon, but just like with Jamie, she was too late. It vaporized the boy instantly, and the plants began their feeding. Riley froze, staring at the spot where he'd been. Even though she hadn't known him his death still felt like a blow. At this point, humanity couldn't afford to lose any more people. Every human dead was like a step towards the Weeds winning.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when the one alien turned around and the other boy took off. She was after him in half a second, slashing wildly at the Weeds as she went in some effort to weaken or slow them down. She could hear them shrieking behind her as she ran but didn't dare look back, slipping into the all too familiar mindset. She was the prey, they the hunter. She had to get away. She had to live. That was all that mattered.

Luckily, they were slow to react, and the two humans had hit the tree line by the time the plants got around to firing their vaporizing gun. Riley zigzagged as she ran, darting between the trees so as to make herself harder to hit. She saw a tree or two disappear, but none too close, and before long they were out of range.

"Come with me!" she called to the boy, cutting off to the left. The weeds wouldn't give chase, not with some wounded and the truck unable to navigate the denser forest, but still they needed to get as far away from possible. If they could find a place to hide they could rest safely for a little while, but they would have to be clear of the area before the weeds could get reinforcements for a full search.

Trees next to Nate and behind him were hit by the weapon that killed his brother, disappearing. It was almost like deforestation, expect without the bulldozers. When a beam narrowly missed him and hit the tree in front of him, he smiled. At least that got the tree in front of him out of his way, so he would have to waste precious seconds dodging around the plant.

Nate ran as fast as his sprint would allow him to run, which was pretty fast. When in middle school, his dad had required him to do some type of sport, so he chose running. It wasn't a team sport, so if he passed out in the middle of it, it was only hurting him and no one else. And he always did the short, fast sprints because the shorter they were, the more likely he would be awake for them. Plus the fact that he was just better at them. The motion of running calmed him yet pumped adrenaline into him, so maybe he would be able to stay awake for this long run. But the numbness, stress, and fear of loosing his life wasn't going to help him at all. When they were well out of range, he slowed down his pace. While he was no cross country runner, he knew a little bit about long distance. Like the fact that if one sprints the first half of a long distance run, they would end up too tired to finish the end and that a steady pace meant longer distance in the end. They had time; the weeds weren't chasing them. But when the start to send the search parties, the distance will be their best advantage. But slowing down let the girl, who was running beside him, get ahead of him. He didn't really like that.

He followed the girl to where ever she was leading them. He considered stopping to ask questions, but that would be a waste of their precious time. He could ask later, if they were still alive. Besides, if he stopped running, he might never be able to start again, with the thought of his brother behind him. He knew Nick was dead, but he didn't get the closure. That's the thing with the vaporizing gadget that was the worst; there is no dead body at the end. He just fades away, and one doesn't know if he's actually dead, or just somewhere else. Nate didn't get to see the lifeless body fall to the ground afterward and know for sure that it was over. He was left in a state of uncertainty, and it hurt more than anything.

Riley slowed her pace slightly now that they were out of immediate danger, moving at a quick jog rather than a full-out run. She was no distance runner, that was for sure. Years of soccer had taught her how to move quickly, but only in short bursts. If the weeds weren't as slow and careful as they were she'd have been dead a long time ago.

The girl wound her way through the trees, following smudged tire tracks and slashed tree bark to a small shed. It was well camouflaged, painted green and draped with nets of leaves and twigs. Of course, looking at it head-on it was quite obviously a shed. The camouflage was meant to conceal it from above, and that would serve them well if the weeds began an aerial search, which they were likely to do. They really did seem to hate walking, preferring to use machines as much as possible.

Riley went around to the other side of the shed, ignoring the large double doors that were closest. They looked unlocked from the outside, but they would be barred and padlocked from within. Instead she went approached the smaller door, which opened easily. Inside they were greeted by the faint yet unmistakable smell of whiskey. It was hard to see in the dim light, but she was sure they would find a still and several bottles of moonshine if they looked hard enough.

"I came across this place earlier today," she explained, "but I wasn't ready to stop then so I went past it. We should be able to hide out here while the weeds do their search." There would be a bolt of some sort for locking the door once they were inside, though she'd never understood why moonshiners insisted on having that feature. If the weeds found the shed, which was doubtful in and of itself, they would likely leave after seeing it was locked. They liked to think they were more intelligent than humans, so if they couldn't get in without using force, they would assume that no human could either.

Nate followed the girl into the house. Or hut, as a better word. The strong smell of alcohol he automatically connected with moonshine. His great-uncle used to tell great stories of the past when he had his own hideout not unlike this one for making his moonshine. Not that his parents knew about these stories. They tried to get away from their equally messed up families and live a normal life. Nate was almost positive both sides of his family had past incest, which had caused some mental and physical disorders to arise. And his parents actually thought that they would get normal kids? Sure, Nate himself was the only one that had the obvious traces of family disorders, but they were all a bit crazy in the brain.

"Let's not stay too long, though," Nate said with a bit of paranoia. It felt odd, speaking in real words. His isolation from everyone except Nick had taken a toll. His only human interaction had been with hands, and his mouth felt raw from the neglect. Nate opened up his backpack to survey what he had and what he lost with Nick. The thinner blanket sat at the top. Sadly, the thicker, warmer blanket was in Nick's pack, along with the flashlight, the handy all-purpose pocket knife, and extra ammo (like Nate needed that). But Nate still had the lighter and the skinning knives, good for preparing the meat. They had each had a share of the leftovers of the rabbit they cooked not too long ago, the blueberries they had picked and washed a couple days ago, and a water canteen. Nate's pack also had pieces he's been collecting for the construction of arrows--straight pieces of wood mostly, and some feathers. He still had his bow and arrows and prized switchblade (gift from that great uncle mentioned earlier), but those were kept on his person and not in the pack.

"I'm Nate," he introduced, remembering the girl was still there and sticking out a hand for her to shake. He wasn't sure if she would actually shake his hand, as he wasn't sure if people still greeted each other in such a way. Maybe politeness had died when over half the population did. "I have some food if you're hungry." The girl had kinda tried to save her brother (she was helping kill off those things), so it was only right to offer her food. Besides, Nate had been harshly raised that good ol' Southern hospitality and manners was the only way to live. No alien invasion and short food supply could undo that.

Nate put his bow, which hung over his shoulder, down on the floor. He walked around the hut that they were in, almost tripping on an empty bottle but catching himself before he fell. There were rows and shelves of bottles, some empty and some not. He opened a full one--smells good enough to drink--then proceeded to close it. It was no time to get drunk. He considered telling the girl about his condition, so if he passed out she wouldn't get worried or freak out or something. But that was never his favorite way to start out a first impression of sorts with a person--by telling them his biggest weakness. As he was thinking this, he felt that 'feeling' overcome his brain. With years of training after that concussion when he was seven, he had trained himself to sit down when he started to feel a bit lightheaded, because it usually meant he only had seconds of consciousness left. Nate dropped to the floor in sitting position before promptly falling asleep.

The girl only nodded, locking the door once they were inside. She knew better than to stay anywhere too long. That was the problem with some of the other humans out there. They wanted to stay in one place, and when you'd spent your life living in your cozy little house in your cozy little town, how could you not? It was human nature to want to settle down, so when they found a good hiding spot, some would try to stay there. The problem was, a spot was only good for so long.

That was part of why Jamie died. They had been moving for a long time when they found a still house, similar to this one. They decided to stay there for a few days and rest, but a few days turned into a few weeks, and soon the place felt like home. That was the problem. They got too comfortable, started feeling safe. It was stupid really, to think that they could b e safe, really safe, but it was just too tempting. They let their guard down, something that Riley could never do again.

"I'm Riley," she said, shaking his hand awkwardly, "And I've got my own food, thanks." Even if she didn't, she wouldn't take any of his. In this world you had to look out for yourself, and frankly she was surprised he even offered. She wouldn't have.

"What the--are you okay?" she asked as Nate sat down, but he was already out. The first thing she did was check to make sure he was breathing. Then she checked his pulse and finally tried shaking him awake, but the boy wouldn't stir. Sighing, Riley sat down and began to take stock of her own pack, figuring she would just have to wait for him to wake up.

Blanket. Extra set of clothes. Crank flashlight. Matches. Canteen. A few bruised apples. The book of edible and poisonous plants. A smooth rock for sharpening the machete. And a pocket knife and the machete itself, but those were on her rather than in the pack. All present and accounted for. She'd become a little paranoid since the invasion, and who could blame her? But she couldn't help but check her pack every time she stopped, terrified at the thought of losing something.

Riley sighed again, looking at Nate. What good was having another person there if you couldn't even talk to him? She took a bottle of the moonshine from the shelf and took a sip, feeling it burn all the way down to her stomach, where it settled in a warm ball. Her dad had been brewing the stuff for years, so even at seventeen she was used to it. She would be careful not to get drunk, as this was definitely not the time to have her sense muddled, but she also didn't see the point in wasting water when there was something else available.

A bit later in time: Nate's body shook for a split second, vaguely looking like a seizure. His eyes flew open and he tried to move, but nothing came. This happened every so often. When he would wake up, he would be paralyzed for sometimes up to a minute. But his mind worked fine during this time of stillness and panic. He spent the time regaining his thoughts on where he was. He wasn't dead, at least. He slowly remembered the hut, the girl, and... Nick.

Regaining the ability to move, the boy rolled over and groaned, his head pressed against the floor. He rubbed the back of his head, which must have made contact with the floor when he fell from his sitting position, because it hurt a bit. But not a concussion, he was sure. Kicking some bottles away, he pushed himself up and slowly stood, feeling slightly dizzy as the blood rushed down to his feet. He sat back down on the floor and closed his eyes so that the dizziness would hopefully not make him pass back out.

"Sorry, Riley. At least, I think you said your name was Riley; double sorry if it's not," Nate said to the girl somewhere in the room. "Probably should explain what happened, I guess. I'm narcoleptic and basically, I fall asleep randomly and uncontrollably a lot. Which is why I passed out." It was a very vague explanation, especially with the way Nate said it was such causality. Just a silly disorder, nothing important or life threatening. "Assuming we're going to be traveling together for a little longer, I'm probably going to pass out on you again eventually." He always wondered what would happen if he passed out while he and his brother were running or being chased by weeds (it had never happened). His brother would have tried to save him, of course, but the girl seemed smarter than that. She would know to leave him and run, but Nate didn't want to make sure and tell her anyway. He always found it awkward talking about his possible episodes of the future and what someone should do if he had one. He trusted in the stranger's common sense enough not to need to broach the topic.