Murder Ultimate: +New

"Hmmm."

Carlos grunted, bending over, "Let's see..." You could see, through the Cardboard box's peek-port, the following scene: It's Carlos, his putrid scent filling your nostrils - it reminded you of piss, gym sweat, and blood all mixed into one giant motherfucker. "HMMM." Aha, did he suspect something? Maybe. "Open the bo--"

He was cut off.

"Booooooooss! Booooooooss~!"

A twenty year old man - clad in a Skrillex t-shirt, blue jeans, and a 'Please Stop Me' cut into his right forearm - was visible. His hair, half-shaved, combed to the side and jet black, motioned his head toward Leon S. Kennedy, who was far too busy trying to manage an assortment of restless survivors to notice the Crossed glaring at them. "Lookie what I fooooound~!"

"Shut up!"

"Loooo--"

Carlos drew back his hammer, swinging it in an upward arc, catching the jaw of the Skrillex-wanna-be, smashing it up and into the front of his face, teeth shattering in a spray of white shards. Blood erupted from his ruined mouth, causing the guy to stagger back, just enough for Carlos to leap up and chop down with the hammer, crushing the man’s skull. His eyeballs popped outta his sockets like putty. It was hilarious, actually. His head rendered a little more than jelly.

3 left.

"Find them! Find them NOOOOOOW!!"

Lucky you.

Well Sum Bitch.

One hell of a stroke of luck. Since Carlos had turned away, Snake waited a second; letting the other three look away as well before he smiled again. Suddenly D-Dog came by, jumping from behind Carlos and landing on his shoulders, slashing at his neck and tearing out the throat with his knife before hopping off and running away before the others could notice. Suddenly the top of the box then opened up and Snake popped up, aiming his .45 Caliber to the nearest Crossed.

2 left

BANG!

The silencer no longer worked, and the Pistol was as loud as any other. Shit. One more Crossed dropped and Snake dove into a roll behind a wall while the other one turned to look at the noise he just heard.

Snake was leaving this one to Nick.

((Heading to bed. Farewell for now~!))

Nick could hardly breathe as divine intervention kept Swolberham Lincoln from opening the box. He'd have to thank whoever distracted the group from the box although from the sickening crunches and splatters he'd heard following, he didn't expect to get a response.

Suddenly Snake opened the box and dove out. Nick did as well, rolling to the left. From what he could see, Snake's pet Jason Vorhees sliced up the steroid pumper pretty good. It appeared Snake was going to go for the one on the right.

So Nick would go for shotgun gal on the left.

BANG!

Nick heard a gunshot coming from Snake's gun. Loud and clear, the shotgun gal turned toward Snake's direction, pointing the gun. Perfect...Nick leaped from the corner, rolled under her shotgun, popping up in front of her. "Drop this!" he cried and bitch slapped her across the face with his right hand. Bang! The explosion force twirled her head back in a full hundred eighty degree spin, snapping her neck in the process. The Crossed girl went limp and shuddered to the floor, her face planted in the rubble despite her being on her back. It was a gruesome sight.

Nick panted and sighed, thinking to himself. It's only a maniac...it's only a maniac...she would've killed you had you not done something...

Turning away, he looked at Snake. "Thanks for the gunshot distraction." he told him. He suddenly felt drained. The adrenaline rush was gone, leaving him with the pain his body had endured. He pitched forward, falling on his knees, palms in the rubble. Phew...

"Guys, what's happening up there, I think those... things are hearing the gunshots, and are piling up near the pool. Try and keep it to a minimum please!" I could hear the radio chatter through the headset, and the sight of the crossed was kinda terrifying.
((I have school, so I won't be posting, bye guys.))

Gunshots, quite obvious a fight was going on, not hard to locate either
Shame he got there too late, but he could be some use, it seemed, he pressed at his ear for a second, signalling Bain

"Yeah, you need something Jacket?" he asks
"Accessories" the voice replies in it's garbled tone
"I don't know if I can get them to you, buddy...I can try, but with things being the way they are, it'll be an airdrop if anything, you get to the roof, and I might be able to drop you in some goodies, maybe, no promises"
"Affirmative"
"By the way, is Jiro's headset working right? I can't seem to get hold of him at all"
"Uncertainty" the voice replies, before speaking once more "I'll let you know when I find out"

His hand reaches into the recesses of his pockets and pulls out the silencer, screwing it in place of the slotted muzzle he'd had in place before, he gives a nod of approval

Thank Werbell for his contribution, he might just have saved everyone's life

Degtyarev had followed the others into the Hotel, but had once they encountered the Irishman, peeled off of their group to get into his hotel room. There he kept most of his more important equipment, he had stuck to the shadows, like he had learn from the Spetsnaz of he SBU, Alfa Group when he was being trained to become a Military Stalker. Slinking from the corridor and into his hotel room located on the first floor, he checked the room then went to the air duct above the desk of the room, reaching up as he climbed onto the desk. He pulled away the meshing as quietly and carefully as possible before peering inside the vent, yes, there it was, his grey fiberglass briefcase with one of his most prized possessions inside. Having got down from the desk and sitting in the chair at the desk, he opened the case and was greeted by his disassembled and unloaded VSS Vintroez.

He smiled as he re-assembled it with a series of satisfying clicks as parts were slotted back into place with a teasing amount of resistance between the joints as they held themselves to each other and were slid into their proper places. He then secured the pins needed to hold the gun together and opened up the room's closet and got out his Plate Carrier, adorned with pouches intended for his PDA, magazines and a First Aid Kit. As well as a holster located on his left for his pistol and a sheath on his right thigh for his combat knife. He put it on over his suit jacket and armed himself with his now loaded VSS and exited the room, slightly more confident, but no less cautious.

The mission was now to rejoin with the American agent and the others. The VSS was grasped in both hands, the shoulder stock pushed into Degtyarevs shoulder.

The Doctor put his first aid kit in his bag again and he stood, but a bit shaky and he followed the others to try and escape while one of them is bein noisy. His head was spinning and he was feeling like he would collaspe but his body was running on adrenaline at the time. He had his pistol out and he had moved out of the way when the pheromones had been sprayed and he hadn't been covered in it but he did start firing when the Crossed came around.
He ducks when a crossed man swiped at his head and he fired and it hit it between the eyes and it fell. He was breathing hard and he would fight to try and get out. He looked at the others

The roof, Sieg had landed on the roof. Some form of hellish wreckage of a world lay before him, sweat dripped down his face as he observed the carnage. First things first, he had to check out the surrounding area and thats where first rate magical circuits and the body of a supreme magus came in. Not that he was anything too flashy himself.

The Homunculus made sure the roof was empty and locked the entrance, this new world was in chaos already, and while a locked door wouldn't stop a Servant it may slow its Master. He crouched down and began to prepare to scout this new facet of the Grail. He assumed he had been summoned for another War, but was unaware of how or why he had been selected, or whom his Master was. He did not meet the criteria of a Heroic Spirit and had yet to pass into death. Too many inconsistencies and memories he had no recollection of, information about the grail wars artifacts he had learned in life.

He spent his time (The time from the start until current events) inscribing runes into his clothing and reinforcing his body, a test of his ability to recycle magical energies and the strength of his circuits in this world. By the end his clothes were battle-ready armour (Visually his standard suit) and his senses were reinforced beyond human limits, he created a straight sword from the rooftops metal door-handle and then allowed himself time to rest and regain his magic.

He looked down at his left hand, seeing the familiar black command seals in place. So he wasn't a Servant...nor was he a Master if the Grail War had begun. Once again he found himself within a battlefield he did not fit into.

A bang interrupted his thoughts, followed by horrific language he dared not repeat from the locked rooftop door. Threats of violence spewed forth and judging by its contents, the attacker wasn't sane by currently analyzed standards. A desperate Master or the pawn of a Servant, human or spirit he could not take the risk in the battle for the Grail. He pressed his hands to the cool metal and chanted one word "Alter" and the metal door would sprout a variety spike to impale the head and body of the wretched Crossed, to Sieg it was a simple threat to his life that left him in cold sweats and shaking at the suddenness of the intense violence.

Killing did not deter him, being alone and uninformed in a world of burning buildings and immediate powerful threats upon his life did. He took a moment to recollect himself, aware of his exposed position on the rooftop the Homunculus decided to stay put for the moment and analyze the situation, and then make his escape as soon as possible. This world was apparently full of threats to his life, and whether that man was alone or with a Master or group of victims of a crude magic he could not risk it unprepared.

The runes (not being his specialty or usual capability) were a symbol of his distress and took much more energy than a normal experienced Magi would require. His specialty was that which he utilized now, a simple minor wish that drained and recycled back into his magical reserves. The wish to be hidden, manifested in a shroud that refracted light and made him hard to spot without scrutiny or explicit searching of his person. A tool he used to wait, and hope.

Unaware of the incoming "goodies" and the imposing upcoming man named "Jacket" destined for his location. Sieg could only hope for this war to feature allies such as the Black Faction once had, and that they would locate him soon, after all this could obviously be at worst a malfunction in the summoning spell and he had stepped upon the battlefield too soon.

Although to the death-fearing Homunculus, void of Astolfo and weary of another Grail War, the battlefields existence in itself was an unwelcome nightmare.

Mitsuko

There was no way she was in the Republic of Greater Eastern Asia anymore. For starters, there were signs with English on them posted in the bathroom. That, and she had woken up in a freaking bathroom. She was an oddity, but she still used a bed to sleep. So why the hell was she in an American bathroom?!

She slowly stood up, looking around the bathroom. It appeared to be empty, save for two pair of feet in the furthest stall. There was a sort of moaning sound coming from it as well. While Mitsuko wasn't one to judge a couple doing it in public, there was something off about the situation. Curious and hoping someone could tell her where she was, she approached the couple.

Once she was a few paces from the stall, she heard something that made her freeze. It was the snapping of a bone. The sound was followed by maniacal laughing and more crunches. Blood began to run across the floor,towards Mitsuko's white shoes. She sidestepped the blood, letting it flow by her as if it were just water. Despite the warning signs to run, she was confident she could handle whoever was breaking those bones. After all, she had dealt with shady characters before and this probably wouldn't be much different.

She took a few steps closer. She didn't dare to speak. Fortunately, the Crosses she had encountered decided he would. "Stupid little girl, stupid little girl. I'm gonna tear your eyes out because you don't deserve them. Hehehehe! How does that sound?" He continued to cackle as he presumably tore her eyes out. "There goes one! Here goes the other!"

More blood spread across the floor, causing Mitsuko to jump out of the way in order to keep her shoes white. "Uggh," she mumbled.

Suddenly, the man in the stall barged into the door, making the door shake. "Do you want to come play, little girl? I have a friend for you in here. Hehehe, she's very pretty! She wants you to look just like her!" He giggled some more and rammed into the door again. In his bloodlusting state and excitement for another girl to "play" with, he'd forgotten how to open the door.

Mitsuko wondered if she had been forced into a Battle Royale with American children. However she dismissed the idea because the Americans would frown upon such a game. So why was this man so interested in killing her?  She hadn't the slightest idea, but she figured she would need a weapon to take him on. He was obviously in a crazed state of mind and wouldn't pay attention to her if she stripped down. Chances were doing so would give him a chance to remember how to open the door. She needed to find something to either hit, shoot, or stab him with before he dismembered her.

Or she could just leave and lock him in the bathroom. The Japenese school girl turned around and ran to leave the room, stepping in the now pooling blood. She exited the bathroom and looked around for any way to lock the man in. She would have killed him, but she didn't have anything on her. It also apeared that there was nothing to tie the women's bathroom door handle to the men's.

Mitsuko glanced around again and noticed a cord from a vacuum down the hall. She quickly ran,unplugged the cord, and towed it behind her. She could hear the vacuum unit fall around the corner as she dragged it to the bathrooms. As quickly as she could, she tied the two handles together. Given that there was barely any slack in the cord, she figured it would be enough to keep the man in.

She turned on her heels and proceeded to the hotel entrance, where she found a scene of carnage. There was blood almost everywhere. It covered the couches in the lounge area, the front desk, and some had even found its way onto the chandelier which hung in the center of the room. Bodies were sprawed about in various states of disassemblement. It was a gory site, but Mitsuko felt only a bit of shock. The idea of her being in a Battle Royale game popped into her mind again.

Unarmed and unaware of the danger outside, she opened the front doors. The streets and sidewalks outside looked similar to the hotel lobby. She could see the orange throb of flames. Seriously, what wss happening right now?

Weary of more psychotic men trying to rip her to shreds, she moved quickly down the street in search of any weapons

Leon Kennedy paced back and forth, his foot tapping against the hard marble floor: 'Click, click'! Bzzzt! Nothin'. An eerie buzz of white noise met the DSO Agent's receiver, “This is Agent Leon S. Kennedy, I have survivors. North Three-Nine, do you copy, over? No word from Nathan Petrilli yet.” Bzzt~. Shit. He shook his head, “No response from Command. We're going to have to find another route.”

A large map rolled across a nearby desk, the edges are torn, and it appears weathered and brittle: It's a replica of the continental United States, lined and circled at three exact areas of interest with a black sharpie.

“Here, here, and here.” Leon's gloved index finger pointed at the map, “Unfortunately, I wish this could've gone smoother, but Command's down, as is my transmitter. I'll try to direct you all the best I can, but other than that, we're on our own.”

“Here's what we've got, I'll let you all decide the route...”

Choice One: An ensemble of old school buses lay dormant behind the Bellagio's guest parking lot. You count five, three appear in relatively poor condition—their paint shoddy, rust encasing the fragile steel rims, followed by listless blood streaks splattered across the outer hull—so perhaps it's best to avoid them. However, two appear in fairly good condition. Newer models, possibly. Do you use them and venture North - it's a snow filled environment, a bit harder for The Crossed to traverse in - but is Choice One your decision? If so, you might want to check which two survivors among you can drive a bus!

Choice Two: Use the bus to travel West. There's a small town: Charming, California. Population 10,000. Rumor has it an MC known as 'The Sons of Anarchy' has kept The Crossed at bay. It bears some investigating - but I warn you, there's a good reason why they're possibly safe - not so friendly toward outsiders. Wanna risk it?

Choice Three: The Hoover Dam is 30 miles away from your current location. It's possible to utilize the two buses and venture forth toward your destination. WARNING: The Dam yields great benefit accompanied by great danger. Due to large quantities of hydroelectric energy flowing through the Hoover Dam, the surrounding region is fully operational, thus significantly increasing your chances to contact the U.S. military and signal an evac.

However...

The Crossed, naturally drawn to potential candidates of mass destruction, have taken up the mantle and seized the Hoover Dam. Currently faint, but audible sounds of explosions greet your ears. Do you risk it all and try to take the Dam back?

You can now start posting in-game! The Traitors will be set up shortly. First kill & Choose-Your-Own-Adventure decision will be posted @ 2:00pm MST OR 12:00pm MST depending on activity levels on Tuesday. Get those votes in, boys 'n ghouls!

(Primary GM all day. Let's get this going!"

The buzz from Leo's radio with Leon's voice coming out made the mutants bust out of there doors. Each one was running, their screeches and roars heard as the scuttle quickly across the floor. Maybe Leo should have at least lowered down the radio volume. They were heard scuffling across the floor as his hand turned into a fist, then pulled up and down. 'Fire At Will.' He busted the door from his side, knowing there was little to no escape from the mutants, his shotgun letting out a round at the closest mutant, its head splattering across the floor as he yelled at the others. "Get out! Out, out, out, I'll cover!" He fired once more, this time as a distraction as the mutants began following the loud shotgun rounds. As each and everyone of them went out, he went back from where they came as he fired a shotgun shell into the rubble, as it began falling and falling over the door and some onto the first floor stairwell. "No point. The guy's either dead with those son's-a-bitches out there. Eaten maybe." He wiped his nose, pointing downstairs at everybody. "Let's go... No point in saving a dead man."

As Leo walked down, he gave a quick reload to the shotgun.


"We couldn't get through. Big tough son of a bitches. Had the Cross on their faces but.. They weren't human anymore. Looked like black hide, kinda lizard-y with white phosphorescent patches and big ol' fuckin' eyes. Worse was what they did. Even though he-.. It, saw another Crossed, it ripped its fucking head off and ate it." As he gave the information, he also spoke out and smiled at this. "I say we take the buses off to Hoover Dam. If we're lucky, there could be radios over there. It's high enough, so it'll be good there."

Option C: 1

@Everyone

Charles lifted a brow, wondering which question was best to utter first. His Directorate issued Dead Zone Tour Guide Emotive-Goggles lifted one of their lenses, replicating his facial expression. Who knew that his "blink-powered" G-Goggles would function this long when all other electronics had given up? He doesn't know the man who spoke his option first, but it was bold that he did. 'The end of the world isn’t the best time to start getting picky about who you hang out with,' He thought. 'Besides, a little nuttiness couldn’t hurt anyone, right?' With enough charisma, he spoke from his custom made double-filtered gas mask.

"Well, perhaps option two would be worth giving a whack at it? First? And, maybe even if that doesn't work we could just go to the dam. Or if it does work, we get supplies and trade with the group and then venture towards the Hoover Dam," Charles Spoke directly towards Leo, his voice not so much thick but not too heavy with a distinct british accent, "Besides, what if they have already been and have more information than we do?"


@Everyone
@ResistingTheEnlightened

Tristana silently slinked back into the group, after passing out a third time. It was starting to become a glaring problem for her, and she seemed awfully embarrassed about it, especially after letting Snake down, a quiet blush present in her cheeks as she stood at attention before Leon once again. Feelings couldn't get in the way on this mission, and the yordle decided to keep a stern air about her for the time being. She couldn't keep her emotions completely hidden, however, as her voice faltered now and then. All she needed was another taste of action, then she'd be right as rain. If only she could stop missing out on all of it... Gods damn this world's cramped architecture.

"Sir, I believe travelling west would be the best course of action. Some new faces will keep us at ease, and if all goes smoothly, we could stock up on supplies."

"...Sir."

@Admin
@The peeps

The Doctor looked at the others then at Leon. "I say going west would be good. We can find a resting spot and I can possibly get my leg tended to before it gets worse."he said. He felt his leg throb painfully and it was still tender and weaker than the other leg

@admin
And @the others

Illya knew his group of survivors or "friends" were strong. They had no trouble fighting off a few crossed here and there and nobody had been hurt. However, thinking about the scale of the situation; we are heavily outnumbered. And he knew that just us as a group shouldn't try and fend off hordes of those crazy bastards by ourselves, because people will die, and others will get incapacitated.
"If it's them as a team, I say we make our own team and meet up with that gang."

Leo simply began taking the notes down, jotting all who chose their options. "Well.. I don't know. But alright, I guess. If that's how it will be.." The events are changing, he thought in his head. A new adventure.

Option C: 1
Option B: 3

Feeling a bit awkward in his own skin, Snippy decided to back away just a few feet from the others to watch in his own silence. He sighed with a kind of regret as a dull feeling of hunger grumbled in the pit of his stomach.

"Good company is hard to obtain when your status is questionable!" the talking pet rock chimed from my jacket pocket

"My status is not questionable!" Charles argued with the rock.

Charles considered throwing the rude pet rock out of the window and going back to the crowd, perhaps introducing himself as he never exactly did in the first place. But then he remembered that he wasn't exactly charismatic. So, instead he flicked the rock in his pocket.

"...incoming lawsuit: pet endangerment!" The rock chimed.

"If I had a credit every time someone filed a lawsuit against me..." He started off on a rant about his infinite debt.

"You'd have a whole lot of lawsuits on your hands... and I'm not a very good lawyer, just so you know." the pet rock interrupted Snippy.

"Eh, my clothes made for a pretty good law firm." He spoke, thinking about the Biomatrix. "They even managed to enslave 116 planets, I hear."

"Sure they did, buddy, sure they did." The rock sounded unconvinced.

Charles rolled his eyes, his blink powered goggles seeming unimpressed with his life choices. Mostly about talking to a pet rock.

Seeing as the party that went up to save that senator had run into some much unexpected trouble, Kyoko joined in on the conversation once more once they returned from their excursion on the upper floors. She joined the others at the desk that held the map upon it, looking at each of the black circles marked on the paper as it's respective option was listed. Option two was a no-go, no matter what those 'Sons of Anarchy' were like, encroaching on another groups territory was never a smart idea. She remembered how viciously magical girls would hold their own districts and neighborhoods, and imagined that a group of survivors wouldn't be any more lenient in just letting strangers pop up on their front doorstep.

That left the problem of deciding between choices one and three, as both seemed equally viable for different reasons. Choice one, although the choice with the least information about it, seemed like the easiest route, with the most room for improvisation. Just secure the two busses and scale pavement as far north as they could, besides, the arid landscape of the Mojave wasn't the most eye catching or comfortable. Choice three, held the highest reward, but at the larger risk, plain and simple. Though, the idea of wiping the floor with lot of these 'crossed' sounded like a real good stress reliever. The more she thought of it though, the more she realized there may be some in the group who may not be able to hold their own against an army of freaks, one with enough numbers to hold a gigantic dam. Also, if these even more powerful mutants were popping up already, who knows what may be going on in a dam that's under full enemy control.

"I'll be the first to put in my vote for option A though as long as we don't head west, I really don't care.. If you guys think we're ready enough for a dam full of these fucks, than be my guest, but I'll gladly help you guys wipe 'Em out." Kyoko stated to the group, assuming that whoever was keeping talley was doing their job and listening. She crossed her arms, looking about at the rest of those gathered at the desk, seeing most of them up close for the first time, since many of them rushed upstairs as soon as they got here. "Well, I suppose we do have quite a little army here then... Awesome." She thought, a little grin forming on her face.

@Everyone by the desk.

"Hey uh... Is that a rock?..." He asked, stopping Snippy from his walk as Leo approached him calmly, the pen and notepad held in his free hand. Talking rocks were seriously weird. Who brings a rock to a gunfight? More less to an apocalypse? More less, A TALKING rock. He scratched his head lightly as he stared at Snippy somewhat strangely. "Talking rocks are.. Cool. I guess?.." He spoke out somewhat weirdly. More so that Snippy was even replying to the talking rock, as Leo also looked at the gas masks "Eyebrows." "Interesting things. The name is Seargent Barnes. LAPD. Who might you be, mate?"

Option A: 1
Option B: 4
Option C: 1

The male looked at the rock in his gloved hand and then to the man talking to him. His eyebrows raised then, giving a bit of a surprised expression towards the man,
"My name is Charles Snippy. I guess you can just call me Snippy. My former occupation is the Dead Zone Tour Guide." He said a loud, and happily to the man greeting him. "Well, I can explain later about the talking rock, but for now I can assure you I have a rifle, handgun and butterfly knife," A smile beneath his gas mask raised the corners of his unseen lips as he offered out his gloved hand towards the man for a handshake.

I had cautiously approached the large building apparently named 'Bellagio', keeping to the shadows and remaining as hidden as I could, watching people enter the building. None of them seemed to bare the scar on their faces and my song gave no hint that they were like the others. But I was still cautious, a life time of war had made me less inclined to trust many people and now that I was in this strange place and time I had no reason to trust anyone, but I was more willing to see what was happening here than take my chances out here for too long, not until I gathered some information about this place.

After I watched a few more people enter without the scars I moved inside, still trying to remain hidden in the shadows but failing due to the exceedingly bright lights all over the place, illuminating the entire area. I growled to myself and moved inside, looking around at all the people I realized how different many of them were, some not even looking human and most carrying strange looking weapons. I saw an elaborate looking fountain spewing water and moved over to it quickly, cupping handfuls and washing the blood from my face and hands and pinning my hair back behind my ears. I took a few minutes to let my thoughts settle before moving back towards the large group forming up. It seemed many of them had decided to go off on some task around this building, I had evidently missed a lot so decided to stay back for the moment.

Only a few had remained in this inner entrance area and I figured if more of those things wanted to get at us it would be best to have some guarding the front. After making sure the make-shift barricade was secure I took a seat on a nearby stone step facing the entrance. I drew my sword and cleaned off the blood with a strip of leather then pulled a whetstone from a pouch on my hip and a flask of water from the other side. I doused the sword in the clean water and started running the stone over the blade in long methodical strokes, giving off a satisfying sheen and slicing sound with each stroke.

By the time everyone had come back I had finishing off cleaning and sharpening my weapons and had removed my armor, giving it a similar treatment. Cleaning it and doing what little repairs I could do any damage to it, I had spent so much time in my armor I was always surprised how light I felt when it was off, feeling quicker and more sure of my movements but also weaker and less forceful.

I left my armor where it was and picked up my sword, strapping it to my belt and moving over to where the others had gathered. I might as well become part of this, for all I know this is my life now. I joined the circle of people forming over a desk and was pleasantly surprised when I saw the map, something I genuinely recognized and could read... for the most part anyway. I looked over at map and studied it carefully as our options were outlines to us, seeing one that took us north to the snow covered region made me think of her.... I shook my head and pointed to the northern path. "North would be a wise choice, easier to defend." I kept my words short and to the point.

@anyone in the Bellagio

Option A: 2
Option B: 5
Option C: 1
(Edited.)

"Hwee are bahk!"
Cultist-chan wandered into the room from out of sight, somehow intact once again after being previously ripped in half.
"Hwee want too see the sons of ann-are-key, eet sounds like they work fohr Kay-oss too! Hwee luv Kay-oss!" She was clearly excited about the thought of meeting what she thought were servants of the dark gods:
Khorne, the raging God of war, murder, blood and violence
Tzeentch, the incomprehensible God of change, fate, sorcery and the arcane
Nurgle, the putrid God of death, disease and decay
The "Prince of Pleasure" Slaanesh, the God of sensation, desire, debauchery and extravagance
And the forgotten Malal, God of vengeance and nihilism.

She was dedicated to serving each of the gods in her own way, and the cultist loved the opportunity to please her beloved gods.

(Cultist votes for going west)
@errybody

"Hello, is anyone on the other side of this comms headset? Anyone at all? I was left in the Bellagio Hotel. I fell asleep, and I'm currently alone." I was now more scared than I had ever been, my chances of dying would now be higher. I was about to cry, but it would attract the crossed, so I held it back.
((I'm back))

Once Degtyarev had got his bearings and successfully stalking his way back to the lobby, he greeted Kyoto, who he saw first with a nod, as well as addressing the rest of the group with a clear and loud. " I'm friendly. Major Degtyarev. USS. Before listening in on the radio to Leon and the others, he weighed up the benefits and risks that were presented to him. There's no saying what we would find going North, we may find salvation or our deaths, or how the Sons of Anarchy would react to us, they may be allies, or could be enemies, if we go to Hoover Dam it may end up as our Alamo, or our Leningrad... He squatted as he spoke and continued. Given all the options I would say that Hoover Dam is our best bet for now, as the army may still be able to break the siege. The Major said into his mouth piece and to the group, with a distant look in his eyes.