Only The Strong Survive

Outlaw 
“Just put the loop round her neck. It’ll tighten by itself when I start pulling” she replied. 

Auberon
"Hmm..." Auberon thought about it. "You know, I just don't think it'll be the best option," Auberon mused. "I feel like-" 
He was cut off when he heard a zombie somewhere not too far from him.

Outlaw 
Her pistol seemed to just jump into her hand as she shot the zombie through the head then dropped the gun back into the holster, the whole move taking no more then 2 seconds. “Well ok. What then?” She said to Auberon. 

Auberon
Auberon snapped his fingers. "Ah, poison," Auberon said, nodding his head in satisfaction. "But before we do that we have to get her up there. Or! We can push her off the balcony. Either works really," Auberon said. "I'm sorry, what part of the body is most likely not going to pop off while being hauled up by a rope?"

Outlaw 
“Put the loop under her arms, then put a coil under her legs” she instructed. 

Auberon 
Auberon did as Outlaw had told him to, giving her a thumbs up when he was done.

Outlaw 
She pulled up the girl then undid the rope after having the girl safely on the deck. She rolled the lasso back up and tied it back to her waist. 

Auberon
Auberon climbed back up, brought the ladder up, then picked up Charity again and laid her down on her bed.

Outlaw 
She tied down the ladder after Auberon brought it up then followed him in. “What you gonna need?” She asked. 

Auberon
Auberon sat down on the edge of her bed and felt her head. "I think she went into a coma type thingymubub," Auberon mumbled.

Outlaw 
“Don’t tell me what you need” she replied. 

Auberon
Auberon rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Blankets," he replied. He had a general idea now of what might have been going on with Charity.

Rayden
Rayden decided it would be the best idea to get some much needed sleep. Ever since he'd gotten there, he'd been running about, trying to find shelter and keep himself from being invaded by half-dead, demon possesed, speechless bafoons who seemed so overly persistent on eating his brain. It wore him out. Rayden flung himself into his bed- or what was sort of a bed. It was mostly just a stone slab with a few measly blankets he managed to find around. Who knows whose they were- he just needed them. 
Much to his surprise, he fell into a deep sleep quickly, although it wasn't turning out to be as wonderful of a sleep as he was hoping.

Rayden was back in his childhood home- the place both his parents birthed and raised him, the place he knew so well, yet felt so unattached to. He was sitting on his bed (an actual bed surprise surprise), half crying, half tearing his teddy bear apart (ipromiseitsnotPhillip). Anyway... he had just learned that both of his parents were murdered; how or why he didn't know. But they were gone- they left without him and never said goodbye. A few "trustworthy" gang members from his fathers' gang had decided it would be best to go and keep the young lad company. Although Rayden never let them into his room, they stayed outside his door, knocking ever so often to see if hee needed anything. 
Days past, Rayden finally went out of his room to survive, and the gang members offered him a place in their "family". Rayden refused their offer, telling them he didn't want to be a part of his fathers afairs. He went to live with his grandparents, of which never treated him nicely. Much like Rayden's father, his grandparents had always had a legacy of cruel minds, making life miserable for people of any age. Rayden was soft in their eyes, not fit to be anything but a slave in his own home.
(Lets end the awesome and depressing start now, and lets see what Rayden had to say about all this. I don't even know how I got from that to that)

Rayden sat at the kitchen island counter, staring at his grandparents defiantly. His grandparents were once again giving him his daily scolding, the usual of how they were ashamed to call him their grandson.
"Your father was a villian, a true abuser. Capable of making anything big or small to destroy a human's mind," they said, making the story ten times more dramatic than it really was. 
"I'm not my father," Rayden protested. "And you forget I also had a mother- a mother who was kind"
His grandparents hissed in annoyance. "How dare you speak of that treachery in this house! She is not welcome here, not her, not anyone like her!" His Grandmother snapped. "You want parents Ray? Do you? Prove to us you're as cold hearted and evil as your father was! Use his inventions to make a legacy; improve them even to make that legacy better! The world needs people like your father to put weaklings in their rightful place. Become your father, and then, and only then will you have our respect as your parents."

Rayden
Rayden shot up from his bed, finding himself sweating and panting from the nightmare he had just experienced. His grandparents were still alive, were they not? He couldn't deny he had been still producing and selling Hoboxine to make his grandparents proud, but now they demanded he use it himself. Use pure evil to control someone's soul, and rob them fully of their sanity and life. 
Rayden didn't want to, and he would never have told his grandparents he was producing Monoxide to keep one soul's life straight. But now he wondered if he could use Hoboxine. Could he possibly somehow bend Auberon to his will, and show his grandparents he was worthy of their praise? 
But there was also Outlaw. He loved her, and she loved Auberon. Hurting her friend would break both of them apart, and did he really want that?

Outlaw 
She grabbed a large stack of blankets ranging from wool to jean, all she herself having made, and plopped it on the chair next to Charity’s cot. She then grabbed her medical kit and placed that there as well. “Just be careful not to break those bottles of anti venom. Some of em mighty hard to get” she said, sitting down on her bed. She was now starting to lightly feel the effects of the whiskey. 

Auberon
Auberon nodded in both understanding and thanks, placing one of the blankets over Charity. "Since when has anything animal related been hard for you to get?" He mumbld.

Outlaw 
“Some snakes don’t like to be milked. For example, all Gaboon Vipers. They’re just pure mean really. And some of the spitting and king cobras too, although as a rule cobras are pretty good natured. Most all vipers though. That whole group is just poison mean” she replied with a shrug.