Thread: Surviving in Chaos. (Dies/Midnight)

The abandoned school was almost totally quiet, and very dark, all life that once existed in this place vanished long ago, it was a place of death now, with corpses littered about, victims and raiders alike. Luckily most of the corpses were somewhat fresh, they didn't stink that bad. at least. In the shadows of the darkened room in the abandoned school a young male sat on a large desk, what once belonged to a teacher of whatever was taught in this class before the world came to it's abrupt halt. The young man had his knees drawn up to his chest, his breathing was erratic, clear negative emotions coming off of him, trying not to choke in the stench. Draped over his frame was a tattered trenchcoat a couple sizes too large for his form, he had been using it for a blanket. Nearby a small fire had nearly burnt itself out, the smell of smoke masking the smell of decay deeper in the school, keeping it from the young man's sensitive nose. The boy had his back to one of the corners of the room, it had been a rather large classroom once, he could tell from his early exploration. Crow's 'father', Fox, had mentioned people once learned how to do things they needed to do like reading and math, oh he longed to be able to read, though that was a luxury Crow had never experienced. The young man stirred, groggily feeling around the desk, his head rising, his attention perking as he used his senses to gauge his surroundings. Fox often spoke about how beautiful the world was before it was destroyed, this was something the young man would never experience, green trees, green grass, he had never seen the colors in anything but the sickly and mutated plants that did appear in some areas that had been especially contaminated, of course, Crow barely even remembered what that color looked like. Of course, Crow never even saw what much of the current world looked like, he possessed a serious disadvantage in this world. Crow was blind. The people who had held him before Fox had rescued him had ensured that he would never see again, they took everything from him, even after the slavers had taken his real parents from him. The years that the boy spent with the Covenant were the most horrifying in his life, giving him many physical and mental scars to bear. There were many factions in this new world that were best avoided, mutants, cannibals, bandits, raiders, slavers, then there was The Covenant. The Covenant's adepts were possibly one of the most horrifying groups of humans in the new world, if they could even be called that. The Adept's mutilated themselves in reverence for their gods, they welded masks of iron to their flesh and grafted salvaged technology into their bodies, turning themselves into monsters of flesh and steel. If Fox had not rescued him from them, he would have died, he had heard they were planning on sacrificing him to their god. Fox whisked him away during the night though, and even though he was safe with him for the years he spent with him, he couldn't give the boy his eyesight back. Crow felt around his desk blindly for a moment, checking on the bag of supplies that had been left with him, there was barely enough food for him for the evening. Crow was mainly paranoid about someone taking it while he slept, but he probably would have been killed then too. He checked several times to make sure everything was in place. When Fox came back, he would want to know where the supplies were. Crow had been told to wait there by the man who had raised him for over seven years. They had been set upon by slavers, they were after him, what he could tell from their shouts over Fox's gunfire. Fox had dragged him along into this town, then into this school building telling him that he would lead them away and be right back...Crow stumbled into one of the more intact classrooms and waited. That was four days ago. Crow knew that he wasn't coming back, he had been orphaned yet again, the fact that the slavers had not come back meant it wasn't likely that anybody had come back. Fox had given him his duster and his sword, when he hugged him, he smelled like blood, from that moment, Crow knew he wasn't coming back, but he still waited. The boy felt pathetic, and was battling with despair, what was he going to do? The corpses in the building were starting to smell, and the sound of Crow's stomach growling was threatening to give him away. He hadn't eaten for almost two days. The young man realized he couldn't stay there earlier, he had felt his way around previously, memorizing where things were, there was nothing even remotely edible, nothing to hunt. Crow would have to leave this place soon or face starvation, or worse. The male coughed, stifling it as soon as he felt it coming, he had to avoid making too much noise, there could be slavers patrolling the town, even if Fox managed to lead them away. Crow's head lifted when he heard strange noised echo through the building. His entire body moved, it wasn't the sound of the building settling or falling apart, no, it was footsteps. Crow's entire body tensed, someone was coming! Immediately, his heart rose and plummeted when he realized it didn't sound anything like Fox's, which meant that the intruder was a threat. Crow sniffled, he wished he could cry. Something inside him called for action, he immediately straightened, slipping the duster onto his body and beginning to grope around for his gun. The boy felt around for the gun his adoptive father had given him. Fox had handed him the Beretta 92f stainless only a year ago, he had also taught him how to shoot it before that, but it was a gift for his sixteenth birthday, how not to let the sound overload his sensitive hearing. Crow's fingers searched around, finally finding the grip of the weapon and taking it firmly in his grasp, it was heavier than he remembered. The boy stood, spinning towards the source of the sounds, he heard bootsteps echoing down the hallway, it was a single person at least, it didn't sound like any more, and it didn't sound very heavy. Crow looked down and listened hard, listening for any hints of ragged breathing, that would mean it was time to simply run. Crow snuffed out his fire, if it would buy him time it would. Seconds felt like hours as he waited, the intruder was checking classrooms, the boy's palms went sweaty with fear and his gun shook in his grasp, when the intruder entered he lifted his gun to bear. Crow was Seventeen years old now, he had lived his entire life in this waste, a rather unlucky child, he was alone again. S-Stop where you are! Stay back!! Crow pointed his gun at the intruder, or at least where he assumed the intruder was. The boy's gloved hands were shaking, both out of fear and because of his hunger, what precious rations he had left, he had to stretch out. The young man pointing the weapon at her was obviously not a raider or a cannibal. Crow's eyes and much of his upper face were covered by two layers of bandages and gauze that wrapped around his head, from his eyebrows almost down to his nose, crossing lightly over each other over his eyes and, stained with flecks of blood in several places, covered by the dark, messy, feathery hair that reached down to his ears. Over the bandages of his eyes Crow had made sure he was wearing large sunglasses that hid most of the bandages from view. If most of his face hadn't been covered, he could easily be called very attractive, he had several scars on his face, the skin that was exposed at least, below his eyes, on his jaw, and his cheeks. The boy was seventeen now, yet he felt so much older, he had lived without his sight for almost seven whole years, he didn't even remember what colors looked like anymore. Crow was quite dirty, then again, was there anybody in this world who was clean? Crow's body was thin, and covered in several layers of patchy clothing in mostly greys and whites, a long sleeve shirt, a large scarflike peice of cloth wrapped about the boy's shoulders under the coat that his mentor had given to him. Crow's clothing was patchy in many places, torn and worn. Crow was very thin, he didn't eat often, that much was clear about him, if his clothing wasn't so baggy the woman could likely see that. Crow had several belts and bandoleers suspended about him, a wicked looking knife sheathed at his left side. Crow's pants were heavy cargo pants that were tied in with his boots, he really hadn't chosen his clothing himself, but they didn't look mismatched at least. If Crow was going to die, he was going to die fighting, he couldn't take his own life or let himself starve to death. The stranger could likely figure out that something was off about this young man on her own though, Crow's pistol aimed at any source of noise made, his finger tightening on the trigger, the moment the intruder made a hostile move he would shoot. Stay away from me or I will shoot! Crow could barely hear anything over his own heartbeat, he pointed the gun and 'looked' in the direction he had last heard the noise, imagining where the person's chest was, where to hit to kill them quickly and painlessly if they attacked just as fox had taught him. He tried to sound formidable, but had a hard time masking the confusion and fear in his voice. The boy took a step back, almost tripping over a desk, aiming his pistol as firmly as he could at the intruder. Hes wearing bandages like a blindfold, the cross is a little above the bridge of his nose, covers his eyes and parts of his cheeks