Posts by RAYENNE ABERNATHY !

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; margin-top: -20px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.5px; color: white;]The slight noise of shuffling could be heard; it would be familiar to anyone who had dealt with a walker- it was the exact noise that they made as they stumbled towards their unlucky victims. The dragging of weary feet over the hearth, the lurch of unbalanced steps- the only difference was the fact that this newcomer drew in deep, heavy breaths, something capable of only a live being.
Rayenne was stumbling along, greasy blonde locks resting on her shoulders, a lithe hand gripping the handle of her knife. She had a small bag slung over her shoulder, clattering with each step she took, full of supplies that she had taken from her home.
Her home.
Far from here, she knew- it was stupid to even think of it. And yet, she craved to be home, to be with her parents, to be safe one last time. She had no idea how this had happened- how had a virus taken over the world? Humans were supposed to be the elite species; geniuses, able to adapt and recover from everything. There was no way it logically made sense, and it had happened anyway.
Clad in a ragged jacket and a weary pair of cargo pants, Rayenne continued to make her way forward. She knew better than not to yell, but there had to be some humans out here- real, living ones, who could help her. She couldn't survive on her own; she knew this. It was one of the only truths she knew- that and the fact that she was poised to die at any second. Those two facts brought a needed order to her life, however grim they were; something to count on, to remember.
Rayenne halted and exhaled slowly, two fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose tightly.
She would stop for a few minutes; rest, relax. It wasn't likely that somebody would stumble upon her, but it could happen- and so she would wait, hoping that someone would find her.

//super tired as i write this, sorry cx

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[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; margin-top: -20px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.5px; color: white;]//np! i am super museless as well cx

At the sound of a voice, Rayenne immediately glanced upwards, her knife held steadily in a clenched fist. Who was this guy? He was obviously alive, and he didn't seem to want to hurt her, but she felt wariness wash over her anyway. She had no reason to trust him, after all. The knife in his hand kept her tense. "My name is Rayenne Abernathy, and I have been looking for a group. Logically, I cannot survive on my own." Despite her ragged appearance, her voice was sharp and clear- the voice of a singer, or an experienced public speaker. As she spoke, she seemed to relax; her body straightened from its formerly hunched position, and she shifted her boot-clad feet so that they stood easily, calmly.
Rayenne crossed her arms over her stomach absentmindedly as she waited for Jeremy to reply, pausing to run another hand through her hair.

//mobile as well cx

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[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; margin-top: -20px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.5px; color: white;]"Definitely." Rayenne let a smile spread over her visage as she replied, visibly tucking her knife into her bag. "I can help, you know. I'm not weak." She wanted to prove her worth; it wouldn't be useful to make herself seem weak, and so she straightened and locked her gaze with Jeremy's, as if challenging him to refuse her request.

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[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; margin-top: -20px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.5px; color: white;]Rayenne could be found sitting tensely on a small hammock hung up between two posts in the camp, fiddling with her Beretta, her knife sitting next to her. She had recently found this group and wasn't quite used to being around so many people yet; she had lived alone, rarely going out with friends, and wasn't charismatic or charming. Some people called her quirky, but she called herself introverted; and here, in this camp, it seemed like alone time was sparse.
The blonde tilted her head up slightly, green optics studying the sky above her. It was clear, despite the incessant chill; the sun filtered through the wispy clouds easily. A sigh emanated from Rayenne's lips as she leaned back into the hammock, laying her pistol next to her, crossing her arms behind her head and closing her eyes.

//sorry this kinda sucks, really tired cx

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[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; margin-top: -20px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.5px; color: white;]At the sound of footsteps, Rayenne's hand instinctively tightened around her knife. She kept her eyes closed, as if she was oblivious to the noise, and didn't relax until Sam's voice rang in her ears. "Yep, I'm awake." As she replied, Rayenne opened her eyes, studying Sam calmly with unnervingly clear green optics. The blonde muffled a yawn and sat up, nimble fingers clutching the edge of the hammock to keep her balance. "Why, do you need anything?" To some, her next words would probably come off as a bit rude- to her, it was a gesture of kindness; but with her undeveloped social skills, the sentence seemed a little brash and off-putting.

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[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; margin-top: -20px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.5px; color: white;]Rayenne had millions of ideas about the pile of wood; things she could do with it, ways it could be used- as she approached Murdoc, she began singling them out, choosing the most useful ones out of the others.
The blonde stopped beside Murdoc, her hair pulled back in a slightly greasy ponytail, her clear optics alert and narrowed as she studied the man in front of her. Strong, she assumed; simply from his stature. Intelligent; obvious because of his age; she'd be better off making friends with him.
Immediately letting her lips curl into a warm smile, Rayenne spoke. "Hello! I'm Rayenne. We haven't met before, have we?" She straightened her back and clasped her hands in front of her, her countenance and body language cheery despite her stoic gaze.
It was always stoic, it seemed. Alert and sharp and analyzing, and yet revealing nothing. It contrasted deeply with her ringing, clear voice- and yet her artificial expression of happiness was undeniably believable.
There she stood, rocking back and forth on her toes, a bright smile decorating her visage as she waited for Murdoc's inevitable reply.

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