Sign ups/OOC: OPEN SIGNUPS - Apocalyptic Roleplay The world had long ago been ravaged by corrupt politicians, wars, and crime, when it was a 'thriving' planet. Now, sixty years after the world went to hell and brought back souvenirs, plenty of survivors still strive to live in this dead world, and plenty of the undead have come from the underworld to claim the rest of humanity. If that weren't enough, some have mutated from loads of various situations, in order to better catch their victims. The survivors, living in what is now a shell, far from its former self, have never had to say that the undead were a worse threat than mankind itself, until now. Do they have what it takes to survive in this hellish, unforgiving world, or will they add to the count of lifeless corpses, roaming the Earth forever? Mani CortezThe lone wolf made her way through the urban area of a large town, a rather industrial area. Her husky companion, Kane, walked beside her, eyes fixated on the road ahead, ears searching for anything that could be hostile. Mani never used words when traveling with her friend in daylight. She had taught Kane how to read lips, as well as hand signs, not unlike what military individuals would use. It was crucial to do so, as the undead that roamed the streets and alleyways could hear quite well. She silently searched the cars scattered along the road, looking in a sedan as her final stop before heading home. In it was a case big enough to fit a rifle, and a large tote of guns. Obviously left untouched due to the undead inside, a father who had shot himself in the head, his wife in the passenger seat, with bite marks all over, and a ring matching the fathers, and two kids in the back seat. Mani really didn't feel like wasting time killing them over guns that probably didn't have ammo, and was focused on food, water, and supplies for the time being. It's a shame, She thought. That rifle case looked promising, but I just can't spare the time to dispatch those undead. Mani made her way back to where she came from, her hideout not far from where she was. The area was rather quiet for a place once packed with an abundance of people. Meanwhile, on the other side of town... Pyrrha AlonzoThe sound of gunfire filled the air as bandits and survivors battled it out, bullets flying everywhere. Pyrrha made her way around a large building, headed towards the survivors they had targeted. She got close to them, remaining unseen, and watched the one they assumed to be the leader, and counted down. Three, two, one... Bang. As she thought the words in her head, a loud crack rang out, and the slender man she was fixated on tilted his head back, blood splattering everywhere, falling over with a large hole between his eyes. The last bullet their sniper had, put to good use. The remaining survivors fled or dropped their weapons. Pyrrha had hoped they'd all just run, as she knew what her group did to 'prisoners'. There were things much worse than sexual or physical torture, and they would use as many of their hellish stunts as they could before their victims died. Starvation, isolation, name a list of things, and it was likely they used it. Pyrrha's group even had a massive hole dug out, for the purpose of depriving the victims of all senses along with starving them. Long periods of time there caused most to attack the walls out of extreme paranoia. The axe wielding bandit pulled out her sidearm, and shot one survivor in the back as she fled, hitting the spine and paralyzing her, before firing another round into her face, while her group rounded and tied up the survivors who had surrendered. Pyrrha pulled her mask off, revealing her flame scarred face, softly rubbing her fingers across her clawed up right eye. "Thinking about that mishap again, boss?" A bandit under her command inquired, looking over at her. "It wasn't an accident. It wasn't a mishap." She said, putting her gas mask back on. "I think it's time to find the one I've been looking for, and repay her for this.. gift."