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Miss Amy: Things Are So Strange

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"It's dead," said Amy Strange. She crouched at the base of a sycamore, poking the corpse with the nose of a loaded shotgun.

"Are they even alive to begin with?" Daisy Bloom asked, eying the form slumped against the tree trunk.

When they had first seen it at a distance, it had looked like someone taking a nap. Amy had even half-expected to find a book cradled in the person's lap; maybe something boring that had made them doze off.

But when they called out a greeting, it was met with no response. When the pair came closer, the scent of decay and rot assaulted their noses. Maggots and flies bulged and buzzed from every open orifice of the body, and Amy suddenly felt glad it was too dark to see in explicit detail. She gagged once, and Daisy covered her mouth.

Blood and filth stained every inch of the departed person, coating its thick wool coat and pants. It was impossible to tell what color the clothing had been before. From the body shape, the corpse had once been a man before it had become a Ghoul, but with its head down and bowed, it was impossible to see the features that were invisible in the pre-dawn shadows.


"Well, you know what I mean. They definitely don't sleep," Amy pointed out. "I don't think we have to worry about this one."

"Do you smell that?" Daisy asked with a hint of concern.

"Well, yeah. The stench is kinda hard to ignore," Amy replied. She glanced over to give her friend a "well-duh" look, but paused when she saw Daisy's curious expression.

Daisy was looking off to the west through the trees. "No... smoke. You don't smell it?"

Amy stood and breathed in the sharp scent of charred wood and plaster. Even as she looked west, a faint gray haze began to drift into the forest. She quickly picked up her black backpack and slung the shotgun around her shoulder by its strap.

Both girls exchanged looks.

"Let's go," Amy said.

They began jogging through the forest towards the one place that was directly west of them.



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Short sharp and pretty damn good. I take it this is how you met the rangers and started everything up, ahh but i suppose patience is a virtue and i, indeed we all will find out with time.

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Miss Strange Standalone Version?

Yes please :D

Nice read man. Is this going to be based off in-game interactions?

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Short sharp and pretty damn good. I take it this is how you met the rangers and started everything up, ahh but i suppose patience is a virtue and i, indeed we all will find out with time.

Actually, I was going for the day Staroye burned to the ground...so to speak.. lol. Thanks. :D

Miss Strange Version Standalone?

Yes please :D

Nice read man. Is this going to be based off in-game interactions?

Heh, I had to put my "bookmarker" post in the Standalone L&S somewhere. :P Some of it will go off in-game interactions, but a lot of what I write tends to be stuff Amy does when I'm not in-game, lol. Nothing meta-gamey, but yeah... :)

Thanks, Sung.

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Great little read, hope to see some entries with Niko's stupidity :D

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Great little read, hope to see some entries with Niko's stupidity :D

Thanks, Husky.

Honestly, I have a hard time including other people's characters into my entries. I feel like I'm taking control of other people's character, and I don't like to do it too often.

Daisy is an exception because I've spent enough time with Moose to sort of know what Daisy would say or do in certain situations. At least, I hope!

But yuss, I will definitely be including Niko and the rest when I figure out where to go from here. :P

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Guest Shadow

Exceptional writing, one of the few journals I'd be excited to stay in touch with.

Always love seeing Amy around at the pub, truly talented RPer here.

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Good read in general, we need more entries :P

maybe there is mention about Haiba somewhere

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Nice. Like most of the other's have said. Short and sharp, kinda like how I write sometimes. Keep em coming!

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fantastic as usual, keep it updated me needs moarrrr

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You do it again dude, god like! :o

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Happy Birthday, Amy Strange!

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By the time they had reached the small town, the sun had just risen over the mountains.

Golden light bathed the carnage in a smokescreen of destruction and death. Bodies lay in the streets, some covered with bed sheets, while others were left untended and forgotten. Fires were still burning in some places, and the pub building itself was blackened on one corner.

Amy and Daisy were at a loss for words as they saw the remnants of what had been a peaceful settlement just a day ago.

As they came down the main road that snaked through town, they passed other survivors wandering around. A few were digging through the pile of debris. Some were weeping over shrouded bodies. Others were simply walking around as though still in shock, with expressionless faces and a glazed look in their eyes.


"Jesus fucking Christ," Amy swore quietly as she passed someone cradling a decapitated head, sobbing into a thick of mass hair.

Daisy tugged on Amy's jacket. "Come on. Let's see if there's anything left in the pub, then get the fuck out of here before whoever did this decides to come back."

Amy nodded and they continued on down the main stretch of road until they came to the Staroye Pub.

The door hung from the hinges like a drunk man desperately clinging for equilibrium. Just past the doorway, Amy could see broken tables and shattered glass littering the floor. But before she could step inside, a man rushed out with his arms full of canned food and a crazed look in his eyes.

He paused with his dirty mouth agape, staring at the two girls. Amy opened her own mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, the man had a pistol out and pointed at them. A few cans clattered to the ground.

"Yeah, I went into the back room!" He yelled. "So did everyone else!" He waved the gun between Daisy and Amy. "It's my food now!"

Both girls took a step back.

"Whoa!" Daisy exclaimed, hands held up. "We don't care about the food. We're just trying to figure out what the hell happened here."

"Yeah," Amy agreed. "Keep the damn food. Save your bullets for someone else."

The man sneered at them, but tucked his pistol away before shoving between them and rushing off. Amy and Daisy exchanged perplexed looks and withdrew their own sidearms before stepping into the Pub.

The crunch of glass underfoot disrupted the silence as they moved to make sure no one else was hiding in a dark room or closet. While Daisy checked the bar, Amy crept into the back rooms. She suddenly remembered the flashlight attachment on her pistol and flicked it on, sending a beam of white light into the darkness.

Trash and broken things were everywhere. Cans of food were either empty or spilled, giving the room the scent of a dirty restaurant kitchen. Dust motes floated in the illumination of the flashlight, but nothing else moved.


Then a voice came out of the blackness of the bedroom.

"Is anybody there?" asked a female voice, sounding concerned.

"Who is that?" Amy called back.

Daisy was immediately at Amy's side, her own pistol raised forward.

"If anybody can hear me, please respond," the voice said again.

Amy and Daisy hesitated before exchanging one of their silent trademark looks. Then, Daisy moved forward into the room.

"Daze!" Amy whispered sharply.

"It's okay," Daisy said. "I think I know who it is."

Amy followed her into the room, sweeping her flashlight around. Daisy was kneeling by a pile of shredded clothing and footwear. Amy recognized a boot that she'd tried on only two days ago.

From the clutter of fabric, Daisy pulled out a black, rectangular object.

A hand-held radio.


"This is Daisy," she said into it. "That you, Hilde?"

"Reading you loud and clear, Miss Daisy," came Hilde's voice again. "This is the NFC. We'll be sending you our new coordinates shortly."


*Author's Note: Forgive my horrible attempts at GIMP photo editing. xD Just having some fun. ;) ))

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10/10 bodybags

Jokes aside it was a really good read, the way you describe things and actions never fails to amaze me, keep em coming Crims <3

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Nicely done again Crimson :)

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Rob Zombie while reading is just awesome. Keep on writing, loving it up to here !

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10/10 bodybags

Jokes aside it was a really good read, the way you describe things and actions never fails to amaze me, keep em coming Crims <3

Nicely done again Crimson :)

Rob Zombie while reading is just awesome. Keep on writing, loving it up to here !

Great work as per the usual! looking forward to more!

<3 you all for even taking the time to read.

Thank you much. :)

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Amy was checking on the makeshift fish-traps when it overwhelmed her.

At first, she was light-headed. Spots danced in her vision, and the sunlight reflecting off the water was way too bright.

Then she was unconscious.

When she came around, several people were yelling and dragging her towards the Pub. Gunshots were cracking like sharp whips. Growls and grunts rent the air alongside human shouts of command. The smell of gun-powder made Amy wrinkle her nose weakly.

She fell back into nothingness.

Images---or were they dreams?---came to her in small flashes. Her father, Bertram, appeared for awhile. He sat beside her as she lay in some bed in some room that she didn't recognize. His face was grizzled, but full of spirit and humor, as he was in life.

"I told you to quit those," he said.

"Daddy, I don't think it's the cigarettes that did this," Amy tried to explain. "I think I'm really sick."

"Then I guess you'd better rest, Amanda." He tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. "And don't act like I didn't raise you to be smarter---you know what this is. You aren't being careful, like I taught you. But you'll pull through. Get some rest, kitten."


But he was gone.

A mirage of incoherent images kaleidoscoped across Amy's fevered mind. Suddenly, she was standing on the waterfront of the Embarcadero in San Francisco with her arms wrapped around someone.

"Gerald?" she asked uncertainly, looking up.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Gerald replied with a disarming smile. His blond hair was tied back in a golden ponytail.


Gerald rested his forehead against hers, locking his blue eyes with her silver-gray hues.

"Does it matter?" he asked softly.

"Goddammit, Gerald," Amy whispered, but with a smile. "Stop answering my questions with a question."

"But does it?" His expression was somber.

Amy considered it. The last time she had seen Gerald was in the hospital. Over 90% of his body had been covered in severe burns. His lungs were damaged from smoke inhalation and his brain had taken a grievous toll from oxygen deprivation.

Amy had attended his funeral a week later. That was six years ago, and she still thought about him every day.

So, no. It didn't matter how or why he was here. Reality had become fragmented, and somewhere deep down she knew this wasn't real, but she simply didn't give a shit.

"No," she finally responded, squeezing herself against him. "All that matters is this awesome hallucination. I wish it could last forever."


He laughed warmly and they stood holding each other for awhile in silence. Distant memories of when they were younger blossomed in her thoughts. Days and nights filled with the time they'd spent together were innumerable, but precious.

During the days, he sold bikes and skateboards from a shop near the beach, while she buzzed permanent images onto people's skin at a tattoo shop simply named "Tattoos" (most people just called it "Johnny's", named after the guy who owned it).

At night, they'd skip town and join their friends at face-melting rock concerts or behind the thick walls of a rave or nightclub. Of course, sometimes they'd seclude themselves in Gerald's beachfront condo, expending their energy with prolonged "recreational activities" of the strenuous nature.

Gerald's death had been just as unexpected as his ethereal arrival into her delerium. Even though they stood in silence in this corporeal fever-dream, she knew she would never see him as vividly as she did now, and she relished it for as long as she could.

After awhile, he spoke up.

"We can't stay much longer."

"I know. But aren't you supposed to give me some sage advice or tell me something insightful to help me out?" She tilted her head back to arch a playful eyebrow at him.

"Really? Can't just be happy that I'm here?" He grinned.

"Yeah, but I figured this was one of those moments." She shrugged in his arms.

"Fine. Some advice: They're getting in."

Amy blinked. "What?"

"They're getting in, Amy. It's time to wake up."

"But--" she protested.

"AMY!" Someone shouted. Everything dissipated: the Embarcadero, Gerald, all of it. Amy opened her eyes to see faces in the dark staring down at her, stricken with worry.

"They're getting in, Amy! You gotta wake up!" Someone was shouting at her.

Amy sat up, and immediately regretted it. The room spun rapidly, but someone was shoving a gun into her hand, something small---maybe a Makarov.

"We gotta go, Ms. Amy," they ordered. It was a man, but Amy couldn't register who it was.

"What's going on?" She murmured, trying to collect herself.

"The Infected," the man explained. "They're getting in! We've gotta go now."


"Wait, where are we?" Confusion spiked through her.

People were shoving a backpack in her hand, along with food and other items.

"It doesn't matter! You've been sick as hell. We have to go. Now."

"Wait, what about Gerald?"

"Who?" came the confused response.

Amy shook her head, trying to clear it. Not everything was making sense just yet. "Nevermind, I'm still all fucked-up. Let's get the hell out of here."

Things were so much more beautiful in her dreams.

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Awesome awesome read Crims :o

I enjoyed the music that you added but I think it should have been a bit slower paste, that doesn't really matter though, it was a really good read, keep it up Crims <3

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