forum Roadtrip AU anyone?(**now closed,sorry**)

Started May 03, 2019 by @Book__Dragon

tune

Name: Lindsey Beaclaire
Age: Twenty
Sexuality: Straight
Occupation: Nursing student, waitress
Appearance: She has shoulder length, ash brown hair the she normally clips out of her face. She has a button nose complimenting her face. She light freckles scatter across her nose and cheek bones. She has bright green eyes that light up when she smiles. She bruises easily which doesn't help when she's super clumsy. She's 5'2, the shortest in her family. She's pale compared to many. She doesn't tan, she burns then goes back to being pale.
Waers: she's a typical college student, when she's not in her shrubs she's most likely in pajamas and comfortable clothing. She always wears tennis shoes unless she's home.
Personality: Lindsey is pretty easy going. Almost nothing can make her mad, at least not for long. She loves helping others which is why she chose to studying nursing. She is hardworking, studying and doing all she can to stay on top of hee schooling. When she's not in school, she's working as a waitress to help pay for school.
Skills: She knows enough to help someone until the professionals arrive. She knows how to bind wounds, and of it's an emergency, she can cut you open in non fatal areas and stitch you back up.
Hobbie: She's in college, she has no time for hobbies
Other: She farsighted so she wears contacts. She has two older brothers and an older sister.
Reason for being on the run: (I guess she could get picked up on the way)

I love her!

The hotel was possibly the worst one Jeriah had had the misfortune to book a room in, and that was saying a lot. It smelled disturbingly like a cross between a cemetery and a sewer, the paint was peeling, the roof clearly leaked if the stains were anything to go by, the floor had once been fully carpeted but now there were bare spots, half the lights were well on their way to burning out and some were a creepy greenish colour. In the darkened corners were suspicious stains that he really didn't want to know about.
He picked his way warily toward the front desk. The receptionist, a bored looking middle aged man with a severe receding hairline and bad teeth, didn't even bother to look up when Jeriah asked for a key to room number 107. He just tossed a key at him and continued playing on the dinosaur of a desktop computer. Leaving Jeriah alone to figure out where the room might be located.

Drip. Drip. Drip.
The old laboratory was a thing of nightmares–a scene straight from a horror film. A thin veil of some sort of watery liquid coated the mossy and checkered tiled floor. Glass shards and metal shavings littered the hallway. Soggy gurneys lined the dirt-and-blood-stained walls. Bloody handprints streaked over the walls as well, and some deep claw-like gouges were taken out of both the walls and floor.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Barely audible wails still rung through her ears. Moans of that of small children. Her own screams as they ripped her open before she had been sedated… The endless beeping of heart monitors. The screaming machines as someone died yet again. The rushing footprints of the scientists as they struggled to keep their "patient" alive for the next round of testing. The rattle of chains and agonizing whip of leather over bare skin.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Blood had been a daily occurrence here. As was pain and misery. Weekly beating to make sure they behaved. Fifteen lashes for speaking out of turn. Twenty for backtalking. Fifty for fighting. Seventy-five for trying to escape. Eighty for inflicting a life-threatening wound on either a scientist or guard–nevermind that they killed children every day.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Tessa was blank-faced as she walked through the hall. As she looked at the blood splatters and heard her own cries and pleas. Her boots trailed over the liquid–which had a slight reddish hue of blood mixed in. Her hands were stuffed in her leather jacket, clenched into fists so tight her nails broke the skin. Coming here was difficult, but it was always a good reminder to herself why she killed every day. To remind herself what she fought for whenever she pulled the trigger or slashed a dagger. For them. It was always for the others still suffering while she was free–but not from the nightmares.

The sky was full of stars out here. Roger was eight miles from the nearest town, and it was getting cold. He decided to find himself somewhere to rest and warm up for the night. A cool breeze swept over the open land, sending chills down his spine. The wail of a lone coyote could be heard from several miles away. The moon cast long shadows around him. An owl flew over head, hooting at the night sky. He could hear the quiet rustling of a deer mouse finding something to eat. Not a minute later he heard the deer mouse screech in horror and then it went silent. The owl got a meal.
His hand tightened around the hard drive he had in it. The documents on his family. If the Government got these back, they'd have the evidence needed to get them all killed. And he wouldn't let that happen.

Caterina walked down the street. She glanced at the motel and mentally counted her money. It was supposed to be cold tonight. She might have enough for one night. One night out of the cold and in a real bed. She shook her head and continued walking. Its a waste of money.

(are you ok with having your character appear in the story later I don't know how fast this will start moving)

(I'm cool with that, I can probably have Marco help them out of a jam later on in the plot line, I'd just need them to end up in a bigger city… since that's Marco's home habitat….)

(are you ok with having your character appear in the story later I don't know how fast this will start moving)

(I'm cool with that, I can probably have Marco help them out of a jam later on in the plot line, I'd just need them to end up in a bigger city… since that's Marco's home habitat….)

(Can do, cities are were the intense avoiding of their pursuers usually happens anyway)

(are you ok with having your character appear in the story later I don't know how fast this will start moving)

(I'm cool with that, I can probably have Marco help them out of a jam later on in the plot line, I'd just need them to end up in a bigger city… since that's Marco's home habitat….)

(Can do, cities are were the intense avoiding of their pursuers usually happens anyway)

(Perfect, it'll make it easier than me starting in now, because I have to go within the next hour..)

It was the floor that Jeriah had mentally judged so harshly and deemed as supremely sketchy that saved his life. As it turned out, they were incredibly creaky. And if you hadn't literally spent your entire life learning how to walk silently like Jeriah had then they squeaked. A lot. That wasn't to say that his would be attackers weren't trying, they were definitely professionals. He was better though. And when they tried to sneak to his room they would have been better for them to walk normally because he easily picked up on the failed attempt at walking silently. He felt a little bad for whoever tipped them off, likely they would get in trouble for the room being completely empty and looking like it hadn't been used recently, but not bad enough to stay and get caught.
Thus he found himself on the highway at 4:23 in the morning, just three hours after he stopped, in another ratty vehicle that he picked up just for this next stretch and would ditch at the nearest opportunity.

Marco sighed, walking through yet another dark alley. It was late at night, though he didn't know or care when. All he really cared about was the need to stay away from the several mafia gangs that had it in for him.