Ostrołęka, Poland

Date:February 9
Location:Ostrołęka, Poland

He really could not think of a lamer way for the world to go. All these people wandering around without the decency or consideration to just stay dead, stinking up the place and quite literally letting themselves fall apart. At least with war or some kind of epic natural disaster, there was some beauty and pride to be had, even in destruction. Personally, he though his own falls, as much as they had sucked, had been fabulously artful on his part. Even in defeat he was full of flare. And of course, he rose again. He made it though in the end.

He would make it through in this, too. Once he found Lithuania the two of them would band together to make both their countries free of this tasteless aspiring apocalypse.

Poland wished they hadn't separated in the first place. But this completely uncool outbreak of dead people couldn't be ignored and the fastest way to get things started towards solving the problem had been for them each to take the reigns at their own home. Poland had been lucky. There had been no major outbreaks for him. Of course, the evacuations and establishments of safe communities did not go as quickly as he would have liked and the confusion had caused power blackouts and unreliable phone service. He hadn't gotten in touch with Liet since they'd separated. He needed to get back to him. That guy could totally manage to get himself into a fix if Poland wasn't around. Russia was probably already trying to get Liet to join back with him in exchange for help. Like that stupidly cold and wacked out guy could help Liet better than Poland. What nation was a better survivor than the totally strong and mighty Poland? No one, that's who.

He was heading northwest from Warsaw towards the boarder he shared with Lithuania, trusty motorbike humming away beneath him. Of course, it would have been so much more awesome to show up at Liet's atop one of his super cute and cool ponies, but the zombies had a tendency to want to eat them. Poland didn't have as many living dead roaming as he'd heard other nations did, but they were there and the bastards liked to swarm. At least with the bike, he didn't have to worry about something trying to eat it every time he walked away. Besides, he could make anything look fabulously hip and he could really work a pair of riding goggles if he did say so himself.

Poland had a pistol strapped to his thigh, his Blyskawica submachine gun to his shoulder, and his saber at his hip. His backpack was loaded with mostly ammo and some limited food and water for the journey. He figured he'd be able to scavenge from abandoned shops along the way fairly easily. It wasn't so far after all. Maybe one or two days on the country roads, taking the slower, more careful route. His bike wasn't especially fast. Rations would be easier to find on the way than ammo would in any case. He knew it had been a good idea to fill up with as many bullets as possible. Survival genius he was.

His travels had brought him to Ostrołęka, a city of perpetual bad luck when it came to wars and the war against the living dead was no exception. The city where he had battled Sweden, Prussia, Russia, and Germany (and which was pretty much destroyed every time) was now devoid of the living, seemingly abandoned. Poland had encountered a few undead on the outskirts, but he had weaved around them easily and they had not been able to keep up with him. Once alone again, he scoped out the town. He didn't really need for supplies. He was only 120 km from Warsaw, still fairly early in his journey. But he'd been growing bored and he needed to stretch his legs a bit. Plus that super large soda he'd had before leaving had kicked in and he need to take a wicked leak. The vibrations of a bike did nothing for a full bladder.

He parked his bike near a storefront and lifted his goggles to his forehead. It was silent. No movement whatsoever, not even a breath of wind. How boring. Blowing a lock of hair from his face, he climbed off the bike and set his helmet down on the seat. He frowned into the side mirror at his hideous case of helmet hair, but since he'd be putting it right back on shortly, there didn't seem to be much point to addressing it. The door of the shop wasn't even locked, so he walked right in, drawing his pistol just in case. It was just a small grocery store, but you never knew what could be lurking. And he wasn't about to be taken by surprise while making use of the facilities. Talk about a way to totally ruin his day.



((Anyone who could reasonably be in the area is free to show up, infected or not.))

Date: February 9
Location: Ostrołęka, Poland

The world had gone to hell.

And Prussia was loving every chaotic moment of it.

Life had been so sickeningly boring the past couple of years, as horrible as this all was, he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying it. He'd stuck around in Germany for a little while, just to keep an eye on things, but finally he couldn't stay. As much as Gilbert was enjoying his bruder's violent way of handling the undead bastards, he wanted more to go and see how everyone was.

Not that he actually gave a flying fuck if Roderich and Liz were in trouble, or if Feliks and Toris were dead or not. It didn't matter in the long run, he told himself. Even Antonio and Francis were not his problem. But that was a lie, every word of it.

He was so worried about the other nations that when he'd run into Elizaveta and Roderich, he'd only kept from hugging them both by sheer will power. When he'd left them behind to go seek out Poland and the others, he hadn't been able to resist, pulling Liz into a rib-crushing hug and burying himself in her scent, and the familiarity of her, knowing that they might not see each other again. Even Roderich had been pulled into a hug, and hadn't put up as much of a fuss as he normally would have.

Prussia had thought of going to seek out Antonio, or Francis, but he was closer to Poland. He knew Antonio could handle himself, Spain was a tough country though most seemed to forget that, and even France could handle himself more then anyone would give him credit for. Gilbert didn't doubt that Feliks was doing okay.

The frilly little cross-dresser could be tough as hell. Prussia had been on the wrong end of the man's weapons before, so he knew damn well how dangerous Poland could be. How mean he could be. But it didn't stop him from worrying about him too. Even with their rocky relationship, Prussia did like him enough to seek him out, though his excuse would be that it was quicker to get to Belarus this way. He'd rather say he was concerned with her, who was small and weak country-wise, then that he was worried about Feliks and Toris. Well, maybe Toris. Lithuania was a cool guy.

He bashed a few heads on his way through Poland. By the time he made it to Ostrołęka, on his way to Warsaw where he was sure Poland and Lithuania would be holed up, his jeans were torn and bloody, his bat was permanently stained with gore, and the tires of his motorcycle had seen better days.

It was just by chance that he found the motorbike outside a store. Parking his bike, Prussia took his goggles off, and eyed the bike a bit warily. If it wasn't Poland's, he didn't want anything to do with the rider. Traveling in a group was dangerous, and he wouldn't risk his hide to save some weak human.

Letting the goggles hang around his neck, he slid off his bike, and drew out one of his guns, holding it with his finger on the trigger, as he leaned back against his motorcycle and waited to see who came out.


((We don't have to sing here too, do we? >> The Awesome refuses to sing.))

Whew~ There were few things in life better than taking a really wicked piss when you really needed to. It would have been better if it had been back at home instead of this dank and gross public store bathroom, but Feliks was in a position where he had to take what he could get. And it was still better and less unseemly than taking a leak outside like a common animal. The world might be ending, but Feliks still had his standards of decency.

He zipped up and was very pleased to find that the plumbing was still working, though only for the cold water, it seemed. No power for the hot water heaters. He washed his hands, glancing at his reflection at the mirror and again frowning at the state of himself. He could not resist washing the road dust from his face, though he knew it was a lost cause with the miles of travel still ahead of him. No one was around to judge him for his vanity anyway.

Or was there?

He could swear he heard a motor for a fraction of a second as he turned off the faucet. He glanced out the propped open bathroom door to see no signs of movement from inside the shop. But he was sure he had heard something. A generator trying to kick on? No, that wasn’t it. His motorbike? Could someone be stealing it? No no, not that either, this had been a deeper rumble. Somebody else had to be here. Probably nothing to worry about. Just another survivor trying to make his way. Unless of course they were leading a trail of zombies behind them. Or they were one of those creeps that stole supplies from other survivors, in which case that was just not cool. Maybe he ought to be careful as he came out of here…

He pulled his pistol from its holster and slipped quietly around the corner from the bathroom, keeping his back pressed against the wall. He gazed towards the large front windows of the shop. Light was in his favor, as the sun illuminated the exterior, but it was fairly dark inside. He could see a form through the dusty windows. Fairly tall, pale hair… Naw, it couldn’t be that guy, what would he be doing all the way out here? But sure enough, as Feliks stepped closer and could get a better view out the dark windows, Prussia was pretty unmistakable. Well that was kind of amusing. Had the other not had his itchy trigger finger at the ready, Poland would have probably found a colorful way to greet him. But sneaking up behind him and locking him in a surprise bear hug seemed like a good way to get shot, and Feliks was not in the mood for that. So it was probably best to announce his presence beforehand. Course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still be a smart ass.

“I see you there, Prusy~” he called out in a teasing tone. “Did you come seeking the super cool Poland to protect you at the end of the world? Or did you become, like, a zombie yourself and are here for my brains?” He grinned and grabbed a load of snack cakes off the store display shelf and crossed over the the front of the place, stepping out the door and tossing one to the German. “Why don’t you just have a twinkie instead?”