With the town and its bizarre emptiness, and now the unusually neat state of Riley's house, Ramona was already gripping her crowbar as tight as she could. An uneasy feeling that they were in the calm before the storm sank in. Incredible to think that an island of normality in a sea of chaos could make someone so deeply paranoid. Whatever, this was their world now. Nothing could ever truly be as it seemed, and what she'd seen so far was too good to be true.

Tamara didn't need to tell Ramona twice, and nobody was about to stop her from walking close behind Riley. Ramona gave her a gentle tap on the shoulder to confirm that yes, she'd be coming home with a black woman holding a crowbar in a distinctly threatening way. Hopefully, Riley's parents weren't didn't ascribe to Stand Your Ground laws too strictly.

Juan moves around to the front with the others, knife still in his hand. He watched Riley and Ramona head inside, and prepared the throw his knife in case anything tries to jump ether one of them. However, they all had made plenty of noise already. If the dead where inside, they had no ability to plan an ambush. Meaning he was ready for ether lady to be shot instead...but what he could do about it was in question.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:13, Tue 10 Dec 2019.

It didnt occur to Malcolm until Riley opened the door that he was holding his breath. Looking into the dark interior the kid could feel every beat of his quickened heart.

He exhaled, dropping his rifle to his off hand and pulled his pistol free. He kept it at the ready and fell in behind Ramona and Riley but was noticeably slower, not willing to commit to the mind of close quarter violence Ramona was prepared for.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:30, Wed 11 Dec 2019.

As people head inside, Chris closes up to the door, so he can keep them in sight, but continues to watch around for anything else approaching. Noticing the bottles, he checks to see if any of them have any residue in them.

Diana rolls her eyes, not cross but certainly frazzled. She always does this. Diana always has to find the solution to a problem instantly, whereas Dahlia wants to make light in the face of adrenaline.

She runs her hands through her hair a few times until it's looking a fraction calmer and turns around to survey the neighborhood.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:08, Wed 11 Dec 2019.

Malcolm, Diana, Juan, Chris K, Ramona, Riley

Chris K circles around the back of the house and finds the discarded bottles. The ones closest to the edge of the collection - presumably, the ones placed most recently - are dry, but still have a strong smell of their previous contents. The ones placed closer to the milk crate only smell faintly, or of the inch of standing rainwater they contain. The freshest bottles can't have been outside for more than a day or two.

Riley stands in front of the open door, unwilling or unable to step inside. Before she can get over her hesitation, however, the group sees movement from up the street, in the direction of where they left the vehicles. Marching towards them is a tall figure in heavy motorcycle gear - leather jacket, riding chaps, helmet, even gloves. The figure walks with its hands on the back of the helmet. Behind it walks Mason, his rifle kept at low carry but clearly ready to spring up at a moment's notice. When he catches the eye of the group, he jerks his head towards the other, mysterious figure.

Riley stood frozen at the doorsteps, observing the familiar interior of her home. There were some sort of an invisible force stopping her from taking another step. She felt her heart racing, demanding the answer she's been searching for all this time.

"Hello?" She called out. Before she could wait for a response, a mysterious person stride in their direction from the street. "Ramona." Riley said while nodding her head at the stranger, trying to get Ramona's attention.

Chris continues circling round the house keeping an eye out for anyone else before noting Mason approaching with his prisoner. HE waits within hearing distance of the others, but keeps his eye peeled for anything around them

Following Chris' lead, Juan watches for possible hidden foes. It was clear whoever the motorcycle guy was, he was currently under control. It was unexpected threats they should now be on the lookout for. Juan made sure his back was to the wall of the house while he scanned the area.

Mal's eyes scan, scouring every nook and cranny when the turn of everyone elses heads turn his own towards the newcomers. If he was high strung and anxious before this was enough to put him over the top. His eyes go wide, his teeth are grit and he raises his pistol towards the new comer.

"I hate this, I hate this." He mumbles to himself, stepping away from Ramona and Riley.

"Whats this?" He calls out.

Diana exhales softly, the sound strained in the broken quiet, confusion wrinkling her brow. Brown eyes, cold and calculating, assesses Mason and his quarry for a long moment.

What was a biker doing here of all places?

Malcolm, Diana, Juan, Chris K, Ramona, Riley

By now, the day had truly progressed into evening. The sun, setting low over the horizon, casts long shadows back up the street in the direction of the vehicles. Mason's face is clearly illuminated in the evening light and squints against the sun in his eyes, while the visor of the motorcylce helmet is an almost mirror-reflective bright orange. From Mason's and the stranger's perspective, meanwhile, the group's faces must be virtually indiscernible in shadow. If the stranger tried to attack, they'd surely be at a disadvantage; if anyone else joined in, the group would obviously lose that advantage, but no one spots anyone else in the area even after looking.

When Malcolm lifts the pistol, Mason quickly sidesteps away from the stranger, trying to get out of Malcolm's line of fire. The stranger takes a few seconds to respond - further evidencing the light disadvantage - but when he does, he stops mid-step for a second before correcting his posture and standing still in the middle of the street.

"He was checking out our vehicles, but Kale and I got the drop on him," Mason says. "He had a crossbow, a hammer, and some other things, but he should be unarmed now. I figured you'd want to talk to him."

He nods in the direction he came, towards the vehicles. "I'll go back up Kale again if there's nothing else."

Chris draws a bead on the biker, and moves round so he is at an angle to him, so any fire wouldn't go towards Mason, keeping his distance. He glances at Malcolm and then says "Very slowly, I suggest you take off your helmet."

The kid forces air in and out of his lungs. Taking a deep breath.

"A what-bow?" Mal muttered again to himself, Then took control.

"Good job Mason, thank you." He dismissed his ally, focusing entirely on the stranger now.

"Like he said, helmet off, walk towards us slowly. We dont want trouble, dont do anything stupid we're all packing. What's your name, what're you doing out here?" He interrogated him.

Upon hearing the commotion outside, Ramona traced her tentative few steps back out of the house and faced the stranger with her arms crossed and a stony, impassive expression. After the ordeal with that sniper, Ramona was glad to see the group on edge with this biker guy. For the time being, Ramona watched events play out, but the biker's silence wasn't difficult to notice. Maybe they'd found another mute?

Malcolm, Diana, Juan, Chris K, Ramona, Riley

Mason turns and starts walking towards the vehicles. Tamara looks at the stranger, than frowns at Malcolm and Chris K in turn.

"So we're gonna kill him, right?" she asks sharply. "He's already unarmed and got his hands up. You've got no reason to point your guns at him unless you're gonna kill him. That's just basic gun safety, you shouldn't even carry one if you don't know that."

The stranger had started to take off the helmet, but has now stopped. Even without their face being visible, it's clear they're nervous from their body language. In fact, it looks like they're weighing the option to bolt. Mason, now several paces up the road, turns and slowly raises the stock of his weapon to his shoulder, getting ready for combat.

"So what is it, boys?" Tamara continues. "Are you planning to kill him or not?"

"Stop talking." Malcolm didnt look to Tamara, didnt otherwise change his stance or acknowledge her presence. But his tone was hard, rigid.

"Biker, it's just me and you here." He said to the stranger. "Take that thing off and just answer my questions and the gun goes down. It's as simple as that, alright?" Despite the situation his tone was softer to the stranger than it was to his own ally.

Chris looked at Tamara like she was crazy, but said nothing, and looked back at the Biker.

"Hey biker. I ain't planning on killing anyone today, unless they attack me. Same as everyday. But until I'm sure your not gonna attack me or the people I'm with, then you stay covered. Stay calm, and everyone gets to see the sunrise tomorrow, ok?"

Gun violence had been an ever-present, ugly part of Ramona and Tamara's lives before the outbreak. Tamara hadn't managed to cope with the stupidity of people waving guns around and trying to look tough as well as Ramona, though she'd never let Tamara know that. As it so happened, the two agreed. There wasn't any reason why they needed to threaten this guy if he was unarmed. All this? It was a dick-waving competition, some alpha-male bullshit to establish dominance.

It didn't matter if Ramona lacked a voice -- though it sounded as though Malcolm and Chris wouldn't have cared either way. She slipped her crowbar into her backpack and slowly walked into Malcolm and Chris's firing lanes. With care not to make any sudden movements, Ramona raised her hands, then gradually lowered them while shaking her head. Maybe the possibility of accidentally shooting her would clue them in that pointing guns at someone was antithetical to the act of trying to calm them down.

Juan does not say anything. He was more worried about ambushes or their sounds drawing the dead. As a result he was not watching they biker, although he liked the outfit, and instead watched for sites or sounds of anything getting close. Of course, he tries to make sure he has cover, so he heads inside the building.

He moves slowly and carefully in case something is inside. He doubted the dead was in there-after all, there had been more than enough noise to draw them. He was looking for people.

Diana breathes out a harsh laugh.

How trite.

"Please spare us your second-rate theater. There would be no point in interrogation if simple murder were the objective."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:58, Sat 14 Dec 2019.

Juan

The house is modestly decorated - dignified, but everything in there was clearly bought on a budget. It is also diligently neat, to the extent that Juan would suspect it's not actually lived in if not for the fresh smell of unwashed bodies. It reminded him of a certain type of biker he'd met - the kind that would ride across the country and not see reason to stop and bathe on the way.

Given that current state of the world, the neatness of the house borders on surreal. Smaller details - like the TV remote on a freshly wiped-down coffee table, despite the TV having been silent for weeks and probably forever - make the house look particularly as if it was somehow insulated from what had happened outside.

Malcolm, Diana, Chris K, Ramona, Riley

Tamara shuts up, but when Chris K looks back, she makes eye contact with a disapproving expression, edging into contempt. Her own weapon, while ready, stays pointed at the ground. When Ramona walks into the firing range, though, all of Tamara's attention is turned on her.

"Wait, wait - ma'am," the stranger says. It's a man's voice, probably middle-aged. "I'm sorry, but I can't hide behind a lady like that. You have to step aside, now."

He steps forward - carefully, with no sudden movements - and slowly lifts the helmet off his head. He's middle-aged and looks rather haggard - hair mussed and greasy, beard overlong and apparently untrimmed. He squints against the sunset light, which is now shining directly into his eyes. He probably can't see anything more than silhouettes.

"My name's Murphy MacCormac. This is my home. What are you all doing here?"

Riley's eyes stayed focused on the mysterious stranger. When the stranger removed his helmet, her heart stopped. She recognized his voice as tears fell her eyes. Before she knew what to do, she was already running down the steps towards the man.

"Dad!" She dashed through the others, straight into the man and wrapped her arms around him.

Finally, she found him.

Ramona made it difficult to keep a bead on the stranger, he gritted his teeth, waiting for an answer from the man when he took his helmet off, revealing someone significantly older than Mal would have guessed.

Dad!

Riley sprinted out from behind them, the word rang in his head. Dad, dad. She embraced him in front of all of them and slowly Mal lowered his pistol, watching the two.

He exhales again, feeling every muscle in his body relax and the kid sinks down until he is squatting on his heels. Finally he rips his eyes from the two and glances at Tamara, he gestures with his free hand for her to walk over to his side. When she does so he keeps himself crouched down but looks up as he speaks.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:14, Mon 16 Dec 2019.

In reply to Snicker (msg # 52):

Juan, seeing as there was no threat, looked for any obvious evidence of the house's owner. As a result of no one fleeing or looting the home, all the details should be there. Including pictures of the owner and thier family. Of course, seeing the movement out the window and seeing Riley hug the biker pretty much answered all the question anyone might have. Still, he looked for a framed  photo just in case someone was super paranoid.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:26, Sat 14 Dec 2019.