Of Thumbs and Bath houses (Phoebus and torridsoul)

[Phoebus]

The stench of death was everywhere now; that tepid smell of death that fills a butcher shop, stale water resting on on a stew of broken trees, all mixed with a smell of waste and bile. It was inescapable, all encompassing, and devouring. The city, where the government hadn't taken over, was the worst of all. Festering wounds, openly bleeding victims, and zombies, devouring hunters foolish enough to tread too deep without proper back-up.

The closest escape one had to the choking stench was in the country. There was still carrion about, from various farm animals, and the unlucky migrant workers who didn't understand the soldier's screaming. In dire times, it was easier to kill out of ignorance than to try to understand.

Follow the road far enough down in the country, and you'll eventually get lost. In these times, that can either be the greatest blessing in the world, or the death of you. In this case, it was salvation for one man.

He had worked quietly for the UN for years. He was both and engineer, and a skilled robotics master. A front runner in mechanization, and security, he was a strong build, of average height. His heritage was a vast array of European descents, making him the mutt of the old kingdoms. Scars, nicks and abrasions wraps around his strong form, having been on the receiving end of a plethora of accidents. His hands were strong, and calloused from years of working with machines. His face was hard, scruffy, with a slight goatee to his chin. His lips were stuck in a perpetual frown, his brow stuck in a glare. The only quality that seemed in the bit redeeming was his eyes; deep blue with tiny specs of brilliant green, if you looked deep enough.

His salvation was a farmstead at the end of a country road. There was a dirt road that twist and turned through foliage; once lush, and green, now just as rotten as the rest of the world. Just as you though this path would lead you right back to the road you started in on, you find yourself in a massive clearing. The corn fields haven't been tilled for years, dead stalks and thickets now lay in their waste. The farmstead sits just a top a small hill; the crown jewel of this. The paint has peeled away from the barn, now a stagnant shade of gray. The house was a washed out shade of white; crusty and old.

You can see the start of a concrete wall around the house, fortifying the strong hold, as well as the man, walking around, doing his chores. And if you look just hard enough, you can see a monstrosity of various gadgets and weaponry. This little farmstead could be the safe place outside of government protection.

 

[torridsoul]

She had been walking for days, well it was probably more like weeks. She’d grown tired of the city and had simply left. In the city it was as if no person could take a breath without inhaling in the scent of something or other decaying and that something was usually a person, a very very dead person. She kicked her booted foot against the gravel of the road she was traveling at the moment and thought about the first time she’d come across a dead body. She’d been walking home from work, and there was a woman laying in the middle of the sidewalk, her torso had been ripped open and most of her intestines had been missing. Everything had gone down hill from there, rather rapidly at that. Now a persons only job, was survival.

Annabelle frowned when the gravel turned to dirt beneath her feet. She stopped, and turned a few times getting a bearing for her surroundings. Nothing but open land behind her, it was the land in front of her that worried her. It was full and thick with rotted foliage, she couldn’t help but think that this place could have been quite beautiful at one point. Nothing was beautiful anymore though, the thought made her run a hand over her pocket, it was nice and full of thumbs; most of them were from her route out of the city. But she’d taken out quite a few rotheads out here as well.

Well she wasn’t going to let the thought of a few more rotheads stop her from going, wherever it was she was headed. She stiffened her spine and, pushed her rioting golden brown curls from her face she eyed the path through the rotted foliage with her grey eyes and made her feet move. “Keep going Belle, just keep going. No sense in going back now is there?” taking a deep breath she headed in. She wanted to run, so that she’d make it out sooner rather than later, but she refused to lose her cool.

She’d been in the foliage for hours and was beginning to think that she’d never make it out, she’d added two more thumbs to her pocket in the time she’d been in there. It could have been worse, a lot worse. When she finally made it out, she found herself standing in an odd clearing. She noticed the dead stalks of corn and shook her head and kept on walking, it was then that she noticed the farmhouse. The thing had seen better days and someone obviously called this place home, since there seemed to be a wall under construction. She crouched a bit and moved in closer to the house, there was a man inside. Should she go to the door and knock? What would she say if she did? Should she just turn tail and leave?

She leaned against the side of the building to think about her choices, in the meantime she hoped that the man inside hadn’t heard or seen anything to bring him outside.

 

[Phoebus]

The moment you had entered his property, he was aware or your presence. On the wall, An LED light blinked brightly, warning him of your intrusion.

It was green, he thought. A living one out here? He chuckled softly, looking towards a security screen. "Welp... Let's see about getting this little critter out of my hair... C'mon, Samson." He lifted his gun, a real work of weaponry.

Samson was a shotgun, single barreled and sawed off. The chamber, however, was that of a revolver, the drum able to hold 24 shells. There was a large, red button on the back, turning Samson from a revolving shotgun into a shrapnel blasting maniac, able to fire all 24 rounds simultaneously.

Least to say, Samson has never tried this feat.

The door creaked loudly. There was no point of him attempting to hide himself. Could he be killed? Sure. He had looked at life as it was, though; a very temporary ailment. A pipe hung lazily from his lips, as his footsteps boomed over the creaking, rotting wood. The shotgun rose, meeting your general direction.

"Can I be of some service, little miss?"

 

[torridsoul]

Belle sighed when she heard you open the door, hearing it creak against the silence. She had enough time to cock the hammer on her semi-automatic handgun as you made your way down the creaky old steps that sounded as if they were going to break and swallow you at any moment. It was something else altogether to see the hybrid of a gun you had pointed at her.

Another sigh slid past her lips seeing the creation. She stood, well if she was going to die she was going to go down fighting, she didn't lift or aim her gun. She just looked at you, studied you. To Belle's mind you were the perfect candidate for 'if you keep making that face.. your face will get stuck that way'.

She of course kept this to herself, it wasn't the smartest idea to anger a man with a gun pointed at you.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to trespass.. I've just been walking, for a really long time at that. And this is where my feet brought me." It was the honest to gods truth, so she hoped you'd point your gun in a different direction.

 

[Phoebus]

Quite clearly, the man was not impressed. He had come here for solitude. His government, the one he worked for and supported, had failed him. He was bitter, only wanting his machines as company. He had even taken to building a small companion, with various AI modules that he's acquired on the black market.

'But what to do with this girl?' he thought to himself. He could simply send her away... or.

"You're going to have to disarm yourself, little miss. Nothing personal, but I can't trust a pretty face now a days." He thumbs back Samson's hammer, a monstrous 'Clank', smoke softly bellowing from his pipe. The was a calm to his crazy... something was off to his gaze.

A general neutrality regarding if you lived, or died.

 

[torridsoul]

She shrugged a bit and laid the gun on the ground, it wasn't her only weapon. Granted, if you wanted to blow her head of her shoulders with that nasty looking gun of yours it would be easily done before she even had the chance to pull the other gun or the knife. Fat lot of good that did her, she thought to herself.

"I'm not here to harm you in anyway, Sir. I don't even know where here is.. " She glanced at your weapon and then back up to you. There was worry obvious in her stormy grey eyes, she'd come all this way. Not that she really knew where here was.. but she'd come all this to die? Not even at the hands of a damn zombie.

"You don't have to kill me you know? I could just walk away and it'd be like I was never here.." She tried to reason with you, she wasn't sure if this would work. You were scary man to her eyes, and a scary man with a loaded and cocked weapon was not one to mess with.

 

[Phoebus]

He shakes his head softly. "I'm afraid that's not too much of an option, now. You see, I've been doing my best to live off the grid. I only go to the warehouse when I have to. I've even gone far enough to tear this little place off their electrical grid. And I cannot have you running around, knowing where this strong hold is."

His gaze was hardened. The war against the undead had been hard on the man. You could tell that the had to do things he would have never done. He was a survivor, and would take no chances.

"Now, I can tell that you have more in those pockets... Empty them completely, or we're going to have problems."

 

[torridsoul]

Belle wanted to groan, she'd never met a man this paranoid. You'd actually taken the house off the electrical grid? She wanted to shake her head and refuse to empty her pockets, but the more she looked at the wicked the looking gun of yours the more she knew she couldn't.

"I assume since you want these pockets empty you won't shoot me when I go to reach into them." She said as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out some feminine products tossing them on the ground near the gun, she'd chosen them first hoping the tampons would make the man squirm a bit, they probably wouldn't but you wanted completely and you got it. Then she reached into her front pocket and pulled out the thumbs she'd collected, and placed them down they counted about to about thirty-five.

She bent down and slid the cuff of her pants up over her calve, freeing the knife from it's home and placing it down. She hated giving up her last weapon, hated it to the point it made her grind her teeth. Finally she reached back and slid the gun from the back band of her pants, setting it down near the other one.

"There you go, empty.. unless you want me to pick the lint out as well."

 

[Phoebus]

"When I want wit, I'll read a book."

He picked up the gun, and the knife, throwing them through his window, on to the kitchen counter. "You can keep the rest." He disarmed his weapon, sitting on the porch. A cool wind blew against your back, as he readjusted his pipe, so the smoke wouldn't blow in his face.

"So, where were you headed? And what do you think I'm to do with you?" He was unlike other men these days. Most people stopped looking others in the eye long ago. Some thought it had to do with the fact that you could be killing someone any minute. Others thought that common courtesy died with civilization. But there they were; vibrant, deep shaded eyes, locked on yours, in a near primal show of dominance of the situation, and all at hand

 

[torridsoul]

Something about this man, she thought made her want to revert elementary school antics. Since the urge to poke her tongue between her dry lips. You'll read a book, she snorted in her head. Well good for you.

She watched as he tossed her guns and knives through the window. She couldn't leave now even if you wanted her to, she had no protection. She snatched up her tampons and thumbs and stuffed them in separate pockets, how awkward would it be to get the two of them mixed up!!

Belle refused to turn her eyes away from his as his eyes locked on hers. "I'm sure I have no clue, but now that you've taken away any form of protection I had you don't have much to worry about now do you?"

 

[Phoebus]

"Well, you are a woman..."

 

[torridsoul]

A slight smirk passed her lips, causing her dimples to show themselves as she spoke "Are you afraid I am untrustworthy?" she took a step slightly closer to the man, putting a little extra umph into her walk. Giving her best parts a little jiggle as she moved. She raised her heart shaped freckle smattered face to look into up yours.

"That I will work my feminine wiles on you" she tilted her head to the side, causing her curls to frame her face. "Wrap you up inside, and then run away with your best friend?" she waved towards the gun you held, indicating it as your best friend. "Leaving you brokenhearted?" she raised one prettily arched eyebrow and then rested her hands on her hips.

She was teasing you, but if you made statements like that. You got what you deserved.

 

[Phoebus]

He shakes his head, walking through you. "Silly girl. I worry because you might think I'll always save you." He hefts and axe, walking back over to you. "It's not going to be like that around here. You stay here, you do one chore. You expect to eat? That's another 3 chores."

He thrusts the axe forward, no indication that anything you just said stuck in his mind. "This will actually work out beautifully. I've been needing to spend more time on my defense system. I need those chopped down by supper." He leaves the axe in your hand, as he points to a fair sized pile by the house. He walked to a table outside, hefting a wrench, working on some sort of sentry unit.

The cool wind blew again, the windmill turning, as sparks came from a connection in the ground. The entire farmstead seemed to run on solar, wind, and some sort of device, no larger than a tin can, that were connected to various contraptions.

 

[torridsoul]

She spoke softly, the only way you'd have caught the words were if the wind had caught them and carried them to you "I don't expect anyone to save me." She grumbled and took the axe with an angry tug.

It wasn't as if she had much choice now, was it? Until she could get her hands on her weapons she was stuck in this hole. She stalked to the pile of wood and began chopping. She set piece after piece of wood up, hefted the axe like an expert and then swung. She wanted to whip a piece of it at the mules head.

She was an efficient worker, keeping a steady pace as she chopped. She never stopped to complain that her hands hurt, or that she had splinters. After awhile she began to whistle softly to herself. She would glance to you once and awhile as you worked, curious but she wouldn't speak a word to the man. Not until he spoke to her.

 

[Phoebus]

He finished his work setting things aside. A rag worked against his hands, wiping oil and grim from his fingers. He walks to a pile of wood already laid out. He throws a match down, a warm blaze starting.

Not bother to ask what you wanted, he tended to the fire, placing a large tripod over the top of it, with a grill. He places a few slabs of meat, as a few cans of veggies hanging contraptions on the legs. There are also mill like items on the tripod legs, spinning quickly in the smoke, filling some sort of batteries attached to them. He wasted no energy at all.

Within a few minutes, the food was ready. It was a surprisingly large meal, hosting large slabs of some sort of red meat, a plethora of veggies, still in their cans, a few loaves of bread, and two large mugs of ale.

"Fill up... we still have work to do on the wall tonight."

 

[torridsoul]

She set the axe down where she'd seen you pick it up from and then walked over towards where the meal was laid out. She glanced down at the meat and vegetables, but it was the bread that called to her the most. She hadn't eaten more than a handful of anything since she left the city and she'd gotten used to the gnawing in her stomach.

Fill up were the most welcoming words anyone had spoken to her recently, but she was wary. She didn't want to eat and have that satisfyingly full feeling in her stomach once again to have it ripped away the next day or the next by some man who liked to be in control.

"Do you have utensils?" she looked to you and asked curiously, he had everything else under the sun, but she didn't see any forks or knives. And she really wanted to rip into one of those loaves of bread.

 

[Phoebus]

"You think you're worth my finest silver?" He chuckled softly at his joke. "No, I don't have any utensils... I've melted down what I could for weaponry."

He lifted a chunk of the meat with his hand, placing it on the bread. His great maw open, as he took a large bight, chomping messily, a small trickle of the meat's juices trickling from his chin. He blink, realizing your disgust with the situation. He sighed, walking in. From outside, you could hear him rustle through drawers. Finally, he walked out with a spoon, placing it in front of you.

"I lay claims to the green beans, then," He said as he snatched up the can, offering it to his lips, before slurping the wet, mushy vegetables down his gullet.

 

[torridsoul]

"I wasn't expecting your finest" she grumbled under her breath something about doubting you ever had any fine silver.

When you went into the house with a frustrated sigh, she took a hunk of bread and tore it neatly. The meat was something else altogether, she knew she couldn't eat the whole slab even as hungry as she was. She found that with enough determination she was able to work the slab in half, she placed it on the bread as you had, and was taking a huge bite from it when you walked out with the spoon.

She sent you a beaming smile, one that brought out her dimples once again and took it from you "Thank you" she snatched up a can of veggie's not giving much thought to what was inside of it. She dug the spoon in and ate from it ferociously.

 

[Phoebus]

The meat was surprisingly sweet; a special marinade he left it in that actually fused a vitamin compound into the protein. The bread was something all together special. It seemed... fresh. Light, buttery and crusty, something that seemed to take special care to make.

Care.

Something that was missing in this world. How could it be that this paranoid bastard of a man had enough time, let alone the care to create such a delicate, delicious food. There was an airy quality to the bread, but the warm, soft center was surprisingly filling, giving the consumer a warm sensation of days of peace. It was like being at home, in a blanket again. Even mom would be jealous.

"So... where were you going before you stumbled across me?" He spoke with his mouth full, not bothering to look at you, focusing his attentions on his mead, instead,

 

[torridsoul]

She reached for the ale and took a small sip wetting her mouth before she spoke "I wasn't really going anywhere. At first my goal was just to get the hell out of the city, survival was the only thing I had on my mind. I wasn't going to if I stayed, so I left.." she took another bite of the delicious meat and bread. "And after I was out, I didn't have a destination I just kept going." She wanted to ask you what had chased you all the way out here to the middle of no where, but she figured the time wasn't right.

She continued the rest of the meal in silence, she polished off the entire can of vegetables half of the slab of meat and one of the loaves of delicious bread.. "Thank you, that mean was delicious... so what would you have me do next?" she asked you with a determined and ready to work type of attitude.

 

[Phoebus]

He stood up, dusting off the few crumbs on his chest, as he lead you to a large pit, filled with the dried materials for concrete. "You can mix up the concrete... I'll continue building the wall."

This "wall" was actually a brick framework, with a multitude of blades, and spikes of glass inlaid in a slight enclave. As you look down the outside of the wall, you notice more of these spikes along the wall, making scaling it nearly impossible. There are also pillars every 10 feet, featuring bolts. One can only guess what he will mount atop the pillars.

He continued his work; the masonry of the wall yet to be built. He worked quickly, yet diligently, making sure the wall was both sturdy and straight.

 

[torridsoul]

She nodded a bit towards you as she pulled back her brown curls and knotted the hair at the nape of her neck, getting ready to work. "I can do that, but you'll have to tell me how.. this may come as a surprise to you.. but I've never had to mix concrete before. I'd rather not muck it up and ruin a batch.." she spoke honestly, and she really didn't want to waste any of your supplies.

She hoped that you would appreciate her honesty since it was one of her better qualities.

Her eyes observed the "wall" you were building, it was pretty intense she thought. She'd hate to be someone, namely a zombie trying to get over that thing.

 

[Phoebus]

He looks at you blankly. She's... kidding, right? . He almost examines you, trying to figure out if you were trying some sort of act, or sincerely didn't know. He motioned for you to follow him, leading you to a hose on the side of the barn.

"It's all in there... just add water, and mix."

He walks away before you can respond, muttering "She might be dense... but at least she's not afraid to ask..."

 

[torridsoul]

"I'm not stupid, you know. Just because I didn't know how to mix concrete." She said as she followed you to the side of the barn, she eyed the hose and nodded.

She turned the nozzle and let the water flow as you walked away. She took hold of the hose and lugged it over to the pit, letting the water flow into it. She added it a little at a time, and then mixed.. when the mixture didn't seem quite right she added more water and mixed again. She did this a few more times until she felt she'd gotten it right.

Walking back over to the nozzle she stopped the water flow and walked back to the pit. "Alright, concrete is all mixed up.. what would you have me do now?" She'd take orders well, even if you mocked her when she asked questions.

 

[Phoebus]

He points to the same shovel you used to mix the concrete. "Take some of your mix, and make it stick to the back. I'll check your work after. If you do well, we'll have you work with the front. The backside just need to look good."

He continues his own work. You can hear crackling, and see a bright illumination coming from one of the enclaves. He must have moved on from masonry, to welding more blades into the wall. The sun began to set behind him, the light getting in your eyes as you work.

"Just finish what you have in the pit, and we'll call it a day"