u/SpecialistNo9812

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Iberia was not a woman to be trifled with. After over a century of oppression and chronic mismanagement, she had turned the tables. The New World was new no longer, but it was hers once again.

A tall, sturdy-bodied soldier of a woman, a soul kissed by the warm sun of the unified peninsula that was the Metropole supreme. Curling black hair, rich and vibrant. Once she had been weaker, but now she was string. Firm biceps and a marble physique. The very same woman who had conquered a continent with Toledo Steel, horses, and gunpowder.

She checked her pocket watch. Still her most beloved \\\*diplomatic partner\\\* was yet to show. The second half of one of the most influential friendship societies in the modern world of 1836. There was much to discuss, as there always was in the sphere of politics. Exports, imports, foreign investment, territory, alliances. She had cause to discuss them all in their work and play.

Work, as two nations depended upon their continued Co-Prosperity. Play, because there was always time for a date between two such \\\*close diplomatic friends.\\\* There was no shortage of restaurants and the finest of places to entertain oneself on either territory. The standard of living had never been better. The military never so capable.

Indeed, times were good, and they could be even better with just a little more effort. She was already excited for her favourite nation.

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12 Days After First Infection.

Branches far above carried leaves soaked in the moon's dark, the fading cresent moon poking itself out between every blade. The night sky was a dreamy blue hue, as one leg went in front of another, and had done so for hours. Boots crushed dewstained grass underfoot as a horrid storm roared through the forestry about thirty miles north of Plattsburgh.

The traveller cut a tall, sharp frame. Wrapped tight in a heavy coat and bundled insufficiently for their liking with scarves. Rainwater circled the wide brim of a hat, before coalescing and dripping rapidly off. It was a choice as strange as it was protective, something more fit for a scarecrow - which was exactly what she wanted to be. Hands entrenched in wet pockets, the traveller continued their long and unnecessary journey south. Day by day, and mile by mile. It had been about a week since she had last exchanged words with another sapient human being, done from behind the comfort of her heavy clothing, and a generous distance of four stories. Far enough away that the trace seepage of smoke wafting from her clothes was invisible to the naked eye.

After a time in the forest, she caught a fae glow that climbed above the treeline from a point of origin down below. Curiosity called to her after days and nights of deep rural monotony. Cautiously even by her own standards, the traveller followed the light that reached for the sky, huddled up and keeping close to the treeline. She peered from below and behind one of the many Eastern Pines, and then beheld the great manse.

Sequestered away in the forestry with only poorly tended gardens to denote any kind of transition from the wilderness to civilisation, The Manse stood proud despite recent events. Chainlink fences supported by heavy ballasts had been quickly erected; it had to have been an act of urgency given how unsightly the barriers would have been on a regular basis. What caught her attention especially was the light. Its point of origin had been a giant floodlight nestled inside a tennis court, the net long since torn down. Her sickly, gleaming eyes followed the cables that fed the machine power, which snaked away across the court and down concrete steps into a basement.

The entire location flaunted its relative opulence. Light even bled out from the interior, visible through the windows! People passed by both inside and out. A generator or an engine was rattling, humming, somewhere on the furthest side of the mansion to the traveller. She pressed herself against the trunk of the tree, and leaned closer for whatever good that was.

Two men emerged from a double doorway dressed far too practically for the situation. Almost like military, harnesses clinging to tight shirts and trouserwear that were both permissive of angular orientation and ease of movement. She frowned as she saw the firearms slung to their bodies. Rifles of a high enough caliber. The US military was gone from this place, gone south and abandoned the border. These men may have been security, or perhaps something worse. The Longer she waited and observed, the more men like this she saw. They were not watching out for her very well, though a man with a rifle had been on observation duty on the roof, far above on the sixth floor. She had avoided his vision through the scope, perhaps obscured under the tree.

Nothing about this compound was something she wanted any association with, and the traveller had resolved to continue on south. It was then that she heard a scream come from one of the windows on the fifth floor. A figure ran past, chased by another, taller body. Whoever they were, they were seen shortly after through the same windowframe, pulled back from whence they came.

For about three minutes, the traveller debated what to do. Then they made up their mind, and turned back towards the Manse. A gloved hand tugged down the scarves and the thick coat's collar. With a breathe of warm air that left dancing mist before her, the traveller brought to bear a long appendage that began to push out from her mouth. Some tongue or tentacle-called-tongue. It felt nothing, and dangled from her mouth like a loose tie belonging to a gawping idiot gasping lungfuls of grateful air intersped with wretched dry coughing. With it came a small cloud of gas; a mixture of grey and putrid green that collated around her. Even in the foul weather, the traveller had her own miniature stormcloud affixed to her most potent misery.

*(Hello! I'd be interested in a Left 4 Dead roleplay today. I'd be interested in playing a smoker infected in a slow burning romance with an immune character, while they travel together! It's something that would very much be a kind of slow-burn endeavour with a mixture of smut and story! While I'm open to playing opposed to a male character, I always envisioned this as being something rather FxF in my mind. Still, I'm open to your ideas! Knowledge of the L4D and L4D2 games/storyline is an absolute plus. Please don't hesitate to get back to me!)*