stateofdecay | Event: Itinerant Horde

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Event: Itinerant Horde

Friday morning brings with it biting temperatures, a thick fog which dissipates not long after the sun rises, and many, many zombies. As the Horde shambles into the area, the survivors of the Quad area are setting finishing the last touches of their plan and getting into position for their operation to Split and Destroy the Itinerant Horde.

This post will be used for all miscellaneous scenes set during this plot line. There will be a second post going up for mission scenes which will count for plot success activity tomorrow morning. Characters who volunteer for missions all know the plan but will not receive their own assignments and partners until late this evening, at which point the Cascade Hills teams will be dispatched to their locations.

Meagher Valley teams will be positioned Saturday morning, Providence Ridge teams Sunday morning, and Trumbull Valley teams Monday morning. The Horde is impassable by car, so please be mindful to note which side of the Horde your character is on at any given time. Those on teams will be prepared to camp out for a few days at their final locations, and will have safe elevated spots scouted for them ahead of time, but are also welcome to shelter at any community once the Horde has cleared it (ie, if you are assigned to Loch + Keogh, you can return to Whitney Field after the Horde clears it on Saturday afternoon).

If you have any questions about logistics, please do not hesitate to ask me either here or in the #questions channel on the Discord server. I realize this is a little complicated but I'm happy to help figure out where your character will be and be able to get! I'll have team assigns for people at about 9pm PST tonight, and the post for mission scenes will go up tomorrow morning.

FRIDAY 10:45 AM

The Horde reaches Morgan's Crossing in Cascade Hills.

Beau Betancourt and Ares Makepeace are positioned here to make the first attempt at splitting the horde with Burton Wolfingbarger (Biker) and Vic (Deadhunter) [18].

FRIDAY 2:45 PM

The Horde crosses the Kelenqua River at the Bridge Fort in Cascade Hills.

FRIDAY 5:30 PM

The Horde passes the UU Church south of Lowl.

FRIDAY 9:30 PM

The Horde passes through Downtown Lowl.

Arlo Rattray and Mud are positioned here to make the next attempt at splitting the horde with Otto (Responder) and Keller (Responder) [12].

SATUR. 8:00 AM

The Horde passes Loch and Keogh Self-Storage in Cascade Hills.

John Hwang and Margarita Son are positioned here to make the next attempt at splitting the horde with Carly Vega (Scav) and Howie Standish (Lundegaard) [7].

SATUR. 1:45 PM

The Horde passes by Whitney Field Depot.

SUNDAY
12:30 AM

The Horde passes the Wind Farm in Meagher Valley.

Mara Kaufman and Gideon Ames are positioned here to make the next attempt at splitting the horde with The Witch (Deadhunter) and Della Heydecker (Responder) [15].

SUNDAY 6:00 AM

Approximately halfway through its journey through the Quad area, the Horde passes Grace Lutheran Church in Meagher Valley.

Roswell and Billie Kaplan are positioned here to make the next attempt at splitting the horde with Nolan (Scav) and Bell (Network Agent) [6].

SUNDAY 4:45 PM

The Horde passes through the village of Sawyer's Crossing before passing Lundegaard Lumber.

MONDAY 6:15 AM

The Horde passes Camp Winchester on its way to Marshall.

Bunny Rabbit and Lola Bellison are positioned here to make the next attempt at splitting the horde with Brandson Gunn (Lundegaard) and Elwood Gunn (Lundegaard) [16].

MONDAY 11:40 AM

The Horde passes by the city of Marshall in Trumbull Valley.

Reggie Goodleaf and Angel are positioned here to make the next attempt at splitting the horde with Bug (Deadhunter) and Amy McBride (Scav) [20].

TUESDAY 4:00 AM

The Horde reaches the town of Spencer's Mill in Trumbull Valley.

Dutch and Edgar de Leon are positioned here to make the next attempt at splitting the horde with Foxy (Deadhunter) and Mickey Wilkerson (Network Agent) [6].

TUESDAY 5:00 PM

The Horde reaches the town of Fairfield, where the Quad teams intend to lure any remaining zombies to the Fairgrounds on the other side of town.

Carter Betancourt and Court Slaughter are positioned here to make the final attempt with Jonah Shaw (Responder) and Big Mike (Biker) [19].

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Edited 2024-11-08 00:53 (UTC)

November 9, 2013 ▪ Prescott Fire Station ▪ 12:03 PM

Actually Evening has decided she doesn’t like it in Prescott. Everyone’s so tense. People are coming into the station injured, the Responders are anxious and waiting. The mood’s a little foul, and there’s nothing for her to do or direct. Not something she can stand easily. To rid herself of energy, she's been pacing the perimeter for a little while. She stops, midway through the 47th circuit with a stroke of Genius.

Evening slams the door of the RV open, announcing to whoever is there, “I think we have a duty in this time of Distress to perform a Revolution Musical."

Blythe blinks up at her from the shirt he's mending at the tiny table.

"A revolution musical?" He tilts his head to the side and glances around. "But we didn't bring any wardrobe." His primary objection.

Edgar is deep in the throes of regret, which he's chosen to express by sitting in the driver's seat and posing with his hand on his forehead, staring into the far distance with the most haunted expression he can muster. (So far, everyone in the troupe has ignored this.)

"I don't think anyone's in the mood for music," he says, not moving from his carefully choreographed position.

This is not exactly the reaction she'd been hoping for. She looks around, blinking, landing finally on Edgar. Evening sighs. How long had they just let him sit in pathos? It was for a real reason this time, and for maybe the first moment in all of this, a twinge of actual concern rises in her chest. But she swallows it. She really does have to do everything by herself around here. They couldn't let him go kill zombies like that.

Evening perches on the passenger seat's armrest, reaching out to grab Edgar's closer hand, in a slightly overblown performance of comfort. "What do you Mean no one's in the mood for music. What better way to rally everyone's spirits than a little Newsies. Or your Valjean? And they're Firefighters. They DO have costume changes here." She means other coats.

Blythe is honestly a little surprised to see Edgar up at the driver's seat. He'd been so quiet and brooding, he kind of blended in with the background.

"You do say people love an escape," he offers to Evening's point, because morale is the only thing he knows how to address. "Could break up all the waitin' around!"

Edgar expected comfort in the form of praise for his bravery or even tears over how much they need him, but having sat silently for so long without any attention, he's willing to concede to the restorative effects of song.

He sighs (loudly, dramatically) and glances at Evening. "We could do the stage concert version. I suppose."

"Yes!!" Evening chirps, squeezing then dropping Edgar's hand. "Minimalist. One costume per person. We could even say it's a Modern Rendition, and make it Really topical. Or is that Too cheesy."

It would be obvious to her costars that she's rambling because she is worried. About what or whom in particular, who can say. But the way she schools her face back to smug and triumphant is more obvious than usual. "And wouldn't You feel so much better if you went out to danger after a Heart-Shattering Performance??"

"I dunno that the metaphors really translate to modern times. Who'd Javert be workin' for? Red Talon?" Blythe absently continues his mending as he speaks, the stitches remarkably consistent even as he sews right through a pocket. "It's plenty good to send folks out singing Master of the House instead of ruminating too much, dontcha think?"

Sympathy is nice, as is whole-hearted optimism, but what really gets Edgar out of his funk is artistic debate. "Blythe's right. Not a modern rendition is a bad idea, but no one wants to be reminded of what's happening right now." Red Talon with their fucking helicopters, leading the horde out of Danforth and driving everyone to madness.

Edgar stands up. "We're most useful as a distraction from the hell we're in. So let's be distracting, and transport this field hospital to nineteenth century France."

Sometimes to keep up spirits, one must pick a stupid opinion like let’s do modern Les Mis on purpose so people can argue back and feel Empowered. Her grand plan is falling all into place. Evening rolls her eyes regardless, to keep up appearances.

“Well I Think it’d be Poignant but if You two aren’t ready…I want to be Eponine at Least.”

Which was her real angle all along of course.

"You'll be a GREAT Eponine!" Blythe cheers, even though he's pretty sure she'd make for a better Cosette. "And I'll be Thenardier! And—" He looks around at the others, desperate to be told that this is going to make everything okay. "And then we'll have done our part. You know?"

NOV 9, 2013 ▪ water tower near Loch + Keogh ▪ 6:03 AM

“You’re awake.”

A statement, not a question, but not harsh either—almost placidly observational. John starts to move closer to Maggie to better hold a conversation, then pauses. Visibly thinks twice. After a moment, he tosses the corner of his blanket at her, covering her foot.

Carly and Howie are still asleep, having retreated to different sides of the water tower after an argument the night before. The team has been here, perched at the northernmost tip of Cascade Hills, since last night. They listened in silence as Arlo and Mud’s explosives detonated in Lowl to the south of them, distant echoes and furious red light, and sat blind in the night to the outcome. Carly and Howie took out their anxieties on each other; John and Maggie tried to sleep.

“We have some time before the horde reaches us,” John continues. “If you want to sleep more.” But he sounds as though he doesn’t want her to.

“Ah, no, I should get up,” Maggie sighs resignedly and unzips her sleeping bag. She has been awake for awhile now actually, lying still with her eyes closed, listening to John breathe. An indulgent thing to do, she knows, but after over a year of waking up alone in the predawn darkness she feels greedy for one last chance to lie in. And although she tries not to think it, she is passively aware that this really could be her last chance.

But John’s voice tolls with a subtle pang of loneliness. It would be unfair for her to take quiet comfort in his presence without offering what little comfort she can in return. She shimmies herself free from her sleeping bag and takes her pack, dragging it with her as she comes to settle next to him. She places the far edge of his blanket over her knees.

“Have you eaten anything yet?”

John shakes his head, pretends to be absorbed in the way his blanket drapes over Maggie's knees. “I did not think I could eat,” he admits. “A horde of 10,000 is hard to fathom. I did not feel hungry, just—”

Lightheaded. Sick. Afraid.

As if to save him from finishing his sentence, John’s stomach growls audibly. He tenses, waiting uneasily for Maggie’s reaction. “Hm.”

"Hm," Maggie returns. She understands the feeling he is describing: an anxious adrenal high that tightens your bowels in to a stone and shrinks your perspective until a singular point of anticipatory dread is all that remains. During the last few years of her PhD program, when she was left alone to write, she felt this way all the time. She never really found a fix for this feeling, but she believes wholeheartedly in the curative power of food, so she instead developed little tricks to force herself to eat when eating felt impossible.

"I like to pretend sometimes that I am a soldier in the trenches and this is my only chance to eat." She unpacks two quarter-inch thick bars made of sunflower seeds and honey and four small sour apples. She offers him half of her rations, holding them out to him expectantly, and instructs him to, "Look straight ahead and let your eyes unfocus. Try to think of something nice or think of nothing at all, if you can."

John stares down at her food, absently scratching at the skin of his left index finger until it starts to bleed. A part of him would like to firmly, resolutely reject her offering. Our relationship goes one way, he would tell her. Me to you. Even the smallest bit of reciprocity will upset his understanding of where he stands concerning her: upon a careful higher ground, some distance away. An ounce of kindness from her necessarily forces his reconsideration of everything.

But he is hungry. Sighing, John accepts a sunflower seed bar and apple without complaint. Thinking of something nice feels impossible, as does thinking of nothing at all. Taking a careful bite of the sunflower seed bar—looks like bird food, tastes fines—he settles on the image of his blanket draped over her knees. That's as empty-headed as he can manage.

"Did you learn how to do this when you were alone?" He means the time before she arrived at Lundegaard, in between her PhD program (of which he is hazily aware) and her tenure as Lundegaard's doctor, nurse, herbalist, and resident witch. He assumes she was alone the entire time: the way they found her.

Without consciously deciding to, Maggie moves to lay her free hand over John’s to stop him from scratching, the way she wishes someone would do for her. The raw, cracked skin at her knuckles and down the side of her palm bares testament to her lack of such a person. But she hesitates and he stops on his own.

She looks away, lets her vision relax until the view from the water tower is just a formless blur.

“When I was young, do you mean?” She asks, presuming that he must be referring to the long empty evenings that turned into long empty weeks she spent alone in the little apartment her mother rented for them in Petropalovsky’s city center. They haven’t spoken about many other times in her life. “No. I did not have these sorts of problems until I was older.”

The image changes in his head without him intending it to change—imaginary Maggie draws her knees toward her chest, curling in on herself. John frowns as her reply surfaces old memories. Ditching school to spend a day by himself; the final leg of his Greyhound bus to the seminary, Milwaukee to Madison. When he was a child, he thought he didn't mind all that time spent alone, but something about right now, sitting next to Maggie, renders these memories ugly.

An impulsive thought to give her more blanket strikes him then, which he satisfies it like scratching an itch. "I honestly was not aware you had problems," he says. Another bite of the sunflower bar, a muttered, "This is good," under his breath.

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Event: Itinerant Horde

SCENES: SATURDAY

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: The Troupe

SCENES: SATURDAY: Maggie & John on the water tower

SCENES: SATURDAY: Maggie & John on the water tower

SCENES: SATURDAY: Maggie & John on the water tower

SCENES: SATURDAY: Maggie & John on the water tower

SCENES: SATURDAY: Maggie & John on the water tower

SCENES: SATURDAY: Maggie & John on the water tower

SCENES: SATURDAY: Maggie & John on the water tower