BERLIN 2019

Dan watched the two pass him, and noticed that the woman would probably be on her own. So, after finishing one of his precious beers, he went back down again and snatched another can from the sixpack. She looked really tired, despite her efforts not to be appear so.

With a caring expression, he crouched down before her and placed the can on the floor in front of her.
But, when he found out that she was staring at him angrily and was hugging the bag proctectively, he got up... Though not before asking a question, in vain.
"Hey, uh, if I do any demege to dem, ai-eh need bigger gun... Politi gun not very gud at speed... Tink dat ai cud maybe have a-"
She cut him off at this point with a blunt no.
"Alright, alright, that's cool... Stay, uhh, in hir, though, you luk, eh, tired. Drink beer, it relaxes you."

And with that, he shoved a new magazine into his gun (but he didn't waste the half-spent one, stuffing it into a separate pocket) and went up to join the two others.
"See ya."

She wasn't surprised - Johan's interpretation of silence was different to what normal people understood by this word. Joan was about to take a seat on one of the half-ruined benches, when Terror made a move - and that spurred some uncalled aggression from the woman. In a few small leaps she crossed the room, stood over the mentioned bag and pointed her finger at the man, taking a deep breath in, before bursting out in a line of obvious swearing, on French however. A moment later she realized that and switched, not looking any less angry, though.
" Stick your fucking nose into his stuff again and I'll shoot it off."
He didn't wait for her to continue and soon joined Johan upstairs, leaving woman hastily close the bag and drag it with her to the bench, where she finally sat down.

Need some sleep.
Rubbing her face with one hand, redhead for a moment lost focus, and when she reopened her eyes, Dan was already there. Perhaps, she still had that angry spark in her eyes, but more she was confused to why he approached her. Asking for a weapon - irritated sigh escaped her, however it was more of the fact, that she couldn't give him anything, not that he could know of the reason, sadly.
" Whatever you loot is yours..."
She muttered, as he lifted himself up and was about to leave.
" Thanks."
Even quieter grunt followed the first phrase, after which she fell silent and unmoving, up to the point, when she was left in the hall alone. Only then Joan reached down to the can, rolled it once in her hand and placed in her own bag - unlike Daniel, she had a preference for staying sober. At least until she was sure, there would be rest - now was not that moment.
Closing her eyes, Joan listened to the shooting and screams outside.
Slowly, very slowly, she figured out, what silence Johan meant in this.

Joan, who seemed asleep to the point, when the rifle landed in her lap, was nowhere to be seen. The moment she realized, that they will have a company inside, and Johan tossed his weapon, that she never seen him give to her before, over - redhead just found a cover and waited.
She saw the movement, when one of the cultists managed to sneak up on Johan and she was too late to yell out or shoot the bastard down, distracted by the shadow passing one of the windows. Catching Terror and Daniel in sight, she gestured them towards the windows, as if telling them to deal with the other two. As soon, as they reacted, she crawled out of her hideout between the benches and moved over to Johan, crouching down next to him, placing one hand on his shoulder.
" You alright?"
Of course he was, at least in his words - not a big deal. When he tried to stand up, she pushed him down, snarling quietly and leaning closer, throwing a short glance at the others - they saw him in a weak moment, they will wonder.
" They will deal with others. Stay still. At least pretend you got help. I can be fine with you, but they might not and that is not safe. For me, when I am alone."
Now that she was close enough, closer than usual, he could gather signs of concern on her pale face, hidden so well under a mask of confidence. How long will she cover him like this, though?

Holding hand over the bullet wound, he sighed. At this range the bad lighting of the room gave no cover. He just gave a nod towards the blood that was next to him on the floor. It was dark. Almost black.
Joan looked down, then over her shoulder again and back at the man, shaking her head.
" Don't sigh at me, as if I should be surprised. I meant it, when I said I am good with the details and analyzing, it was my job - finding the smallest creeping thing and finding out the story out of nowhere. Your boots tell a big one."
Smile, that in this lighting seemed to be more natural, than all the ten-twenty she gave out before. Voice lowering even more to barely audible whispers.
" Take care of the bleeding, I'll try to make you time. Tell me, if you need something else."
Placing the bandages into his free hand and receiving a silent nod from the man, as he focused on covering the wound, Joan lifted herself up and looked around the place, twitching from another ringing shot nearby. Pulling the dead body of a cultist over, she just covered the dark blood with it. Even if their new "friends" will decide to turn the dead man around for some reason, the clothing will absorb most of the blood by then and they won't even pay attention.

((Fight Scene!))

The Terror was already in a fist fight when Johan was stabbed.

The Terror swung a left hook. Blocked by his opponent. The cultist was large man who had attacked the Terror with a chainsaw. The Terror managed to put a bullet in the cultist's stomach. It didn't do much.
The cultist was wearing a gasmask and was chanting some inaudible words during their fight.

The Terror managed to deflect the chainsaw by sacrificing one of his machetes. Then he used his other blade to cut the hand that was holding on to the chainsaw.

"Motherfuc-" The Terror was cut off as a huge fist blasted his face. Teeth flew out and the Terror was floored. The large man then searched for his chainsaw. His other hand was still attached to it. He lifted the chainsaw, in vain as the chainsaw wasn't revved. He then charged the Terror as he got to his feet.

"Bastard!" The Terror flew out with a right hook aimed to the face. Connected with a bone crunching sound.
It hardly affected the cultist, who let out a roar and slammed the Terror with the broad-side of the chainsaw. The Terror flew into the nearest wall. And with some luck, he found one of his machetes.

The one-handed cultist charged at the Terror's crumpled form at the foot of the wall. The Terror turned just in time and stabbed the machete right into the huge cultist's neck. The large man paused. The chainsaw was raised. He then fell.

The Terror spat and moved on.

"Where are you..."
Dan grunted flashlight running between the pillars of the cellar, in search of the last cultist whom he saw darting into this place. It was completely black, save the beam of the flashlight.
"Son of a bitch" the man grunted, hoisting his pistol after hearing a shuffle near the screen.
Closer, closer...
"Nicht schießen! Nicht schießen!" a small man suddenly burst out with, raising up from the lower row of seats with his hands high in the air.
"Englis?"
"Spare me!"
The 'cultist' looked very young - he couldn't be past eighteen, and still a Bushmaster ACR hung from his neck in a fiber strap. How could a hateful group of people get their hands on such a versatile and... Modern, weapon?
"You wanna live, gimme your gun."
"Jawohl" he came out with breathlessly and threw the gun at Dan, still pleading for his life.
"You with them upstairs?"
"Ja."
"Why you no attack, then?"
"Ich... I didn't like... I am not like them. Spare me and I will give you info'!"
That sounded promising.
"Okay. But any tricks and BAM!" Dan almost yelled, faking recoil with his handgun, which seemed to startle the captured cultist. Dan laughed, as a result.
"In front of me. Walk."
Together, they exited the theater and into the lobby, the German's hands raised high. Dan seemed overjoyous with his new gun, but he quite clearly lacked expertise in bigger arms; he held the rifle like a Tommy gun, not making use of the shoulder-stock.

Joan left the building for a while - just to get somewhere closer to the tower and see the situation closer - it didn't look any good. Hiding between the various objects, she noted down the amount of cultists and whichever weaponry they were using. As soon, as she did so - Joan darted back to their hideout, keeping herself nice and low.
By the moment she flew back inside, she nearly bumped into Daniel and his new captive friend, which startled the woman greatly. She just stood there for a while, watching both, until something struck her and she looked at Daniel questionly.
" Made him chit chat yet?"
" Nope. But he talk" Daniel let out, flaunting his new weapon about as if it was the greatest achievement done by mankind since the dawn of time. "Got new gun too", he proclaimed loudly - as if she hasn't already noticed.
" Good... Make him talk then, because we don't have much time."
Joan reached into her bag and picked out the recorder, looking at the cultist with narrowed eyes.
" The hell you fuckers have to do with the bloody tower, would be our first question, yes."
She seemed not to notice, that they were missing two people. Or she just didn't pay attention yet.
Dan was about to raise his fist to strike, but the 'cultist' was more than quick to reply.
"It's big. Bemerkbar. Fo-fortified. Supplied." he came out with swiftly, cowering slightly under the rugged hand of the Dane.
" Alright. How many of you are there?"
The recorder was writing, while woman herself kept her eyes focused on the man - signs of tiredness wiped away. Oh she will have trouble later.
"Drei trucks. Du got ein. Dunno how many in eech."
He fidgeted nervously, knowing the consequences of the looseness of his tongue. But rather that than interrogation and death.
" Fuck, where's Johan, when I ne-..."
And then it struck her. Looking around, Joan blinked few times, then glared at Daniel.
" Have you seen Terror?"
"Nej?"
Dan furrowed his brows, sharing the worry now.
Joan cursed under her breath, turning off the recorder and then passing it over to him.
" Keep asking questions of this fuck. I will go find them. And pray to whatever, that I am not late."
Short contact, when she placed the recorder in his hand and squeezed his fingers into holding the item, as if trusting something very dear and sacred to herself. After that she darted off, pulling herself upstairs and disappearing in the dark corridors. Hoping, she's not late.

Dan blinked, looking at his hand and the recorder, and then to the French trailing away. And then finally to the German.
"So erh... You have in dis uh, bisness for long?"
"Business?"
"Ya'kno', ze hål cuntist stuff. Killin', singin', all dat."
"Eh... Not long."
With a hand curled into a fist, Dan flung a punch into the nose of the cultist with a resounding smack.
"Hey what de fuck! I answer quession, du hit me?"
"Feels good, man" the Dane concluded with laughingly, just before knocking the captive out cold with the butt of the riflestock.

((So wrote something together with Sinq two-three days ago. As I haven't seen him online for a while, I do not know if this is fully completed, but let's say it is! Enjoy, finally!))

An action movie was playing on the screen. One of the latest from before the war. German subtitbles with original english voices. Tons of explosions, like any American action movie. The theater itself was dark. On the middle rows there was a lone shadow against the screen.

Standing up, Johan looked around if he heard something. Looking for the guns that he had left with Joan. Realising that he lacked them he raised the machete and ducked. Moving along the rows, waiting for whatever he had heard to get into the theater.

The Terror heard the noise as he passed the theatre. It sounded like gunfire. He held out his blade as he slowly crept into the building. There was some action movie playing. He decided to leave, as he made his way out he heard a noise.

He turned back. There was something else in this building. The Terror moved forward close to the floor as he tried to make out if anyone or anything was near him.

A movement along the benches. Johan stood up. He looked around, raising the machete as he seeked for something. His eyes turned towards the Terror's location. He ran along the rows, jumping over a row of chairs, then another row.

Landing swiftly, he changed into some type of battle position, ready to charge into battle. When he spotted Terror he seemed confused, but remained in battle position.

The Terror saw Johan who was still en guard.

"I didn't expect you to be here."

He slowly put the blade out of sight.

"What do you want?"

Johan remained ready. His movements showed that he did not trust the other man. He took a step back, lower his weapon a little.

"I've been looking for you" said Terror, shifting around where he stood. "We should go. I believe that Joan? I think her name was. Yeah, she's probably worried sick"

The tall man sighed, staring at Terror. He lowered the machete, but seemed to remain alert.

"Told her I needed to take a break."

The building was big. Once the glass panels instead of the usual stone walls, now were just an empty sockets in the frames. Sound traveled from one abandoned hall to another, to the corridors and stairwells. Sound, that Joan used to stay oriented in the building.
Second time in a day she let herself off guard.
Then again, how the hell should I know where they caught the cultists and where they went after...
Didn't work as an excuse, which made her even more worried and irritated, but woman continued her search. Eventually, the sound brought her to the right place.

Her tall, skinny shadow appeared in the entrance to the hall, where both of the men were. For just a second, silence dominated over the place - there was a moment of it on the screen, too. Woman twitched lightly, watching the two, her green glare flickering faintly in the poor lighting of the room. Sound from the screen reappeared with another bullet rain.
" What the fuck?"
Was the only thing, that escaped the woman, as she stepped in closer. She lifted her hand, as if about to slap Terror across the face, but then snarled shortly through her teeth, resting one hand on her side and leaning forward a little. However the moment passed and she stood upstraight again, with still the same serious expression remaining on her face.
Perhaps, only for Johan it was obvious - something was wrong, but what? Who knows.
" Stupid fucker, get back to the fucking hall and bandage yourself up."
She had to yell it over the noise from the screen, pushing a roll of bandages into Terror's hand and pointing him outside.
Two of them here now, he lost the chance.

Joan snarled again and turned her head to Johan, only now, when Terror's back disappeared in the darkness, seeming to calm down a little.
" Sorry."
If it wasn't for the brief calm moment on the screen again, he wouldn't hear that - word rolled off her lips barely audibly, with a tired sigh.
" They have rocket launchers there."
Another phrase left the woman, this time loud enough to hear even through the movie. On that note, however, she turned around and slowly moved back. Still something odd to her.

Dan was blocking the way for her, though, standing in the doorway with his hands on his weapon.
"Rocket launchers? That no gud."
He didn't let her through, staring penetratingly on her.
"Oi missus, ya wounded?"

(( Since Cidé is not around, I took a lil' bit of initiative. >: ( ))



Joan didn't notice him at first, since she kept her eyes on the floor. This, of course, resulted in woman bumping into Daniel and only then reacting - stepping backwards, clumsily, glaring up at him, confused and obviously angry. She took few seconds to find any words, which even for him, who knew her for only few hours now, seemed strange.
" I'm fine. Fuck off."
Stepping forward again, Joan tried to shove him aside with one elbow, not even the slightest roughly, but surely in a very annoyed manner.
" Okay, sure."
He rolled his eyes, but stepped aside nonetheless, letting her past.
" Got sum bandashe if ya want."
" If I needed one, I've got of my own."
Quiet grunt escaped her, as Joan passed him and followed the path, that Terror went off by.

Who also didn't get very far. If it wasn't for Joan staring into the floor, she would probably stumble over his senseless body and meet the floor with her face too. But luckily, she noticed him in time and snarled something through her teeth, dragging him aside, to the patch of faint blinking light, where she sat down herself and pulled the bandage roll out of the man's hand, once again taking care of his wound - this time just with a tight bandage, since it was obvious, that she had no energy for another stitching up.
" Stupid asshole... Bet you went to try and kill him. Fucker. Should just stab you in the face, or leave to bleed to death here..."
Fixing the knot on the bandages, Joan leaned to the wall with her back and sighed, carefully moving jacket aside and pulling up the top a little. Blood wasn't pumping out too much from the wound, which she found a good sign in. Looking around, making sure other two were not there, she sighed and lit up her lighter, holding the narrow blade of the pocketknife above the fire. The usual, hot metal on the wound, both sides - lucky, bullet went through.
" We better get a fucking proper sleep any time soon..."
Groaning in pain, Joan covered the wound with bandages and let herself rest calmly against the wall, sitting next to unconscious Terror.
With this tempo, they'll need to find another medical stash somewhere.

A mom. A dad. Two children. An old lady.

A blood covered man, his eyes were glowing red. Lava was pouring out of his mouth.

"The Terror of Seville."

A splat of blood hit the wall. The dad fell. The dad was still alive. His eyeless form was gasping for air as his neck hung wide open. The child, a boy, about twelve to thirteen. He was screaming.
A silent scream, no noise, but the man could hear it in his very bones. The boy exploded as a machete rammed through his chest. The man watched as the boy fell. A carpet of crimson liquid soon engulfed him. He would join the three other bodies. The man's glowing red eyes made the room seem as if blood was cascading down the walls. A noise from behind?

An old woman sat and watched, he walked up to her. Blade in hand. Oh such a long, long few steps.

"Tu, diablo.."

The man stayed quiet.
"Ya acabaste con este pueblo, que tu quiere?" She said, tears rolling down her face.

"I want.." He responded.
His tattoos started to glow a deep crimson.
The room shook, a flash of light, the end was finally there.

The Terror awoke with a roar. He was dripping in sweat. The people around him were surely surprised by this.

((Johan did not end up following you. The one good thing with cultists: They tend to not use their brain a lot. The bad thing with cultists: they fight back!))

Explosions outside the building. One seemed to get closer. Johan was missing. Sudden scream. Another scream followed. Explosion from were the scream had been heard. Counter explosion. The amount of shockwaves sent dust from the ceiling down on the group in the cinema. Sudden explosion, wall ripped in, quite some bit from them.

"Hello."

Johan, half running half falling in through the hole. Human blood along his left arm. A cut in his armor on the right arm. Splinters stuck in the kevlar on his chest. Carrying an RPG with only one rocket. Spinning around, firing it. Explosion. Possibly a hit, possibly not. No direct retaliation followed. He threw the launcher aside and turned to the others.

"Go deeper into the building and get some rest. I will keep them off. These cultists are too focused on the tower to be a danger for us. That said, let's hope they do not trip the entire tower on us."

He turned and walked out as he drew the Kalashnikov from his back. Reloading. New magazine, filled with bullets. Leaving the building. Running away from the hole in the wall. Avoiding more rockets sent so near to the others, just in case. In behind cover. Using the confusion of battle to be able to solo out any cultists strolling too near the building. Avoiding their main army, as not even he had a chance against it.

First after he left, the others had time to realize, he was no longer moving like a wounded man. Something was clearly not natural.

" Or you can just help the morons and it will be quiet!"
Joan yelled into Johan's back, when he disappeared from her sight. Woman didn't move off her spot at first, but then, pressing her back to the wall, she pulled herself up on her feet. Glancing shortly at Daniel, Joan nodded him towards the direction Johan went to and grabbed Terror under his arms.
" Just a bad dream, man."
Pulling him across the floor, Joan moved deeper into the building, slowly, sometimes stopping for a breath and then continuing. Only when she figured, that it was enough, woman stopped and left the man in one of the theater halls, between the seats, and moved a few rows away herself, finding a seat and keeping an eye on the spot, where she left Terror.
Try to rest, sure.

Joan remained where she was, even when the sounds of the battle dispersed into faint voices, calling out for people. She just sat down there, hand resting on the gun and her eyes fixated on the Terror. Corner of her lips kept twitching every time Daniel let out a soundly snore, which certainly brought out the noticeable nervous state she was in.
A few minutes passed more like this, until she spoke up, still staring at the man.
" I helped you three times now. You did nothing good to me. I don't trust you, because I doubt you were here with Johan for a friendly chat. If I see you do something stupid again - I will shoot you. I can not afford wasting medical supplies on someone, who might stab me or my companion in the back. And keep that in mind - no matter what, I will always chose his side. Even if he'll have to put a bullet through my head. You know why? Because, if he does that, there was one hell of a good reason to."
Joan snarled quietly, in obvious pain, bending forward a little, when wound ached suddenly. However, woman didn't fall silent there, still keeping her stare on the man.
" Is that clear and do we have some deal here, or I'm talking to a deaf and stupid?"
Slightly arched eyebrow, narrowed eyes, Joan waiting for the reply.

The Terror looked up at Joan. He looked at her as if she was somekind of animal.

"I came here because I wanted to kill 'Johan'. Simple as that."

There was a noise outside and that attracted his attention for a bit, but he soon returned his gaze to Joan.

"And, the problem is...I wouldn't need helping if you two would of just left me alone. I didn't need this. I was surviving just fucking fine."

A cold silence creeped in, disturbed only by Daniel's snores.

"Oh and drop the badass bitch act, it don't suit you."

He remained calm as he kept sharpening one of his machetes.

The Terror braced himself for the tirade that was sure to follow.

" With your guts spilling out in the middle of the road. Yeah, sure. Oh, and by the way. It's my normal attitude, if you haven't noticed, moron, so stick your fucking opinion up your ass."
Strangely, she remained somewhat calm and seemed to be unaffected by his replies. She did, however, stand up and move towards Daniel, just to shake his shoulder lightly and, when he surely woke up, Joan strode towards the exit to the halls. She did, though, keep her head turned, watching Terror with the corner of her eye, until he wasn't in her sight anymore.
She made herself clear, he didn't accept it. There was no need to even think of him anymore, apart as of another possible pest to shoot. As she kept moving across the hallways and stairwells, back to the ground floor and towards the exit out of the building, Dan asked where's she going and why the hell she woke him up so soon. Only then it seemed, that Joan softened up a little - or at least, if felt like this.
" Going to see what's with the tower. Just didn't want you to stay sleeping there one on one with the bastard."

She didn't look around too much, just walked over the corpses, quickly leaning down now and then, checking for any useful belongings, nodding to Daniel to do the same. As they moved closer and closer to the tower, it became obvious, that Joan just had enough collected and was going straight for the same gates, they were at before - those didn't seem to stand anymore, though. She didn't notice Johan, which was quite odd, even to herself, but most likely her tiredness was finally taking over.