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Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Lonewolf888978, Sep 1, 2014.
Begin your story here.
God. This is disgusting.
Sylvia wiped the blood off of her kitchen knife and kicked the body to the side. It was horribly disfigured and barely recognizable as having been human. She looked down at her blood stained jeans, tank top, and sweatshirt. Perhaps it was time to find a change of clothing. If she happened to stumble upon something, then she would grab it. She brushed back her red hair with her fingers, slicking it back with the blood that was still on her fingers. She kicked the body again in disgust and then she was off on her merry way. Just looking around the area would be enough to make anyone depressed. It was a silent, barren wasteland at this point. Sure, buildings and man-made features of the mainland still existed, but vegetation was all gone. Humans were either gone or in hiding. Animals were dead or infected. There was no one she could trust here.
But this is home.
She sat down inside of an abandoned building. She didn't know where she was. She'd traveled a long way from home. She was lost, but she couldn't feel lost. How could she, when this place didn't even somewhat resemble the world she once knew? She pulled out a gun and held it at the ready when she heard shuffling. The windows were already shattered, so she had a clear shot of anyone who was outside. The second she saw a glimpse of movement, she pulled the trigger. She heard a howl of pain, but she didn't bother to check what or who it was that went down.
"Shit Shit Shit." Drake said to himself, the shouting behind him getting closer. He was running from a Outcast raiding group, a group who he crossed not even a day earlier. Turning down alleyway after alleyway, he spotted a four story hotel, the doors wide open as if telling him to hide there. Running across the street, he heard shots from behind and saw the bullets hitting the wall beside him as he slammed the door shut and ran towards a flight of stairs. Quickly climbing them, he stopped on the final floor, and heard the men climbing the stairs underneath him. Quickly running down the hall and into an open room, he closed the door locking it and backing up slowly towards the far end of the room. Outside the room, he heard the group getting closer, their voices giving various mocking remarks to him being cornered and outnumbered. Cocking his revolver he said a small prayer and aimed it at the door. He heard the men pause outside his room before one of the other men spoke up "You boys hear that? Helicopter coming our way! Up too the roof boys!" Letting out a breath of air hearing several footsteps running away from him up, to the stairs once again. Looking out the window, he spotted the helicopter coming straight towards the building, and getting lower spotting the survivors. Shaking his head he said as the helicopter hovered near the building as guns opened fired above him, the bullets tearing into the cockpit of the helicopter "Fucking animals. Go back to your zoo." Dropping to the floor as the chopper returned fire as it spun out of control towards the forest back the way it came, he saw from the window one of the gang members fall from the buildings, his arm missing. As the gun fire died down, and he heard the surviving Outcast members make their way out of the building, he sat up and caught his breath, realizing he was holding it in. Quickly leaving the hotel and heading out the back, he walked to the forest line, towards the downed chopper.
The helicopter flew loudly over the quiet wasteland, the small group of soldiers chatting to each other as they neared the city. The chatter quieted down as the pilots murmured into their headsets something about a group of survivors ontop of a building. opening the side door of the chopper, the soldiers looked out to the survivors, who all carried guns. The intercom on the chopper echoed out "Please make your way to the airport, where we will be leaving with the final group of survivors to the U.S.S WaterStrider in forty eight hours." The waves of the survivors turned to laughs as the helicopter came to a hover right off the edge of the building. Bullets erupted into the helicopter, and a bullet flew past Carver and into the throat of a young soldier, who fell backwards holding the bullet wound. The soldiers returned fire, but the chopper spun out of control, the pilot falling to the floor, half his head missing. The co-pilot scrambled to try and steady the helicopter, but a bullet caught his shoulder, and he let go of the controls in pain. The chopper flew out of control and Carver flew sideways and slammed against the wall, another soldier hitting him, Carver's view slowly fading to black.
Jayce Syk was laying relaxed in his bed. Well, it wasn't HIS bed, the place he was staying in was already raided, so he decided to rest there. He hadn't been so relaxed ever since the outbreak had happened. Laying there, he heard infected from outside his window. He got his rifles, took off his G36C, closed the door and kicked it shut, and shot the two zombies point blank. Deciding to move after the shots fired probably attracted more zombies, or even worse, bandits, he got his semi-automatic M110 and cocked it, just for quick and easy killshots. He could fire with this rifle relatively fast, so it was no problem. The M110 was basically a very cool-looking highly effective pistol. Walking down the street, he figured he'd wait 2 and a half miles until he found a new rest place, or a good, unraided house.
Cyrus 'YOSHI' Baldwin
His stomach aches. Was it hunger? Or just the anxious lurch that this so called thrill enticed? Like a bundle of worms crawling in the constricted, tight space of his stomach. Eating away - but truly not eating anything at all. Uncomfortable...But there was no comfort in light of the Apocalypse. And on some days, when it was dark and grim, that was when Yoshi gave it some thought; he realizes that maybe that's what the true meaning of the 'End' was. A loss of hope; comfort dry, and fear triumphed above all. "..." When you felt like you were alone. In the truest sense of the word.
The ground was cold. Even through the impressive fluff of the faux fur he lay down against, a makeshift comforter on the ground that offered none of it. Some of it's pale mass size thrown over his lean, aching torso, aiming to warm his bare arms and neck. But tonight; he felt no warmth. Only sweat, and a brutal, numb chill. And it was dark, always dark. Within the forest, where danger lurked. And preyed upon the those who stumbled into it blindly. That was the trick, or at least, a part of it...Don't confront danger. Lurk where danger could not. And that was what he did. Stationed near the, rather convenient, bottom of a tree. Where the roots were large, and the dirt was hard, cold, and cruel.
It had taken a while to dig out a place. Just deep enough for him to crawl and nestle within. Brutal work, mind whirling work. That he did without question. Through trembling limbs, and an aching mindset, of course. Safe from anything stupid enough to walk past him.
Vibrations. A crash. It was loud.
And beneath his dirtied, orange mass of hair - bangs - shine -- his eyes bolt open. A sliver of them could be seen from beneath his bangs, but it wouldn't have done him any good. "..." His sight was so poor. A blur of shapes and colors, sometimes - when he moved closer, the images were much more refined. What was it called again? Near-sightedness...
Yoshi crawls from the dug out depths of the tree's 'basement.' Quick and swift; with only a stumble as he pulls himself to his feet. Hand immediately going to the pocket of his pants; pulling at the grip of the knife that would, probably, do him no good.
It wasn't like he'd been sleeping anyway.
Pulling up a bare and dirtied hand up to his eyes to lift at the mess of locks he called bangs, and squint off into the distance. Where a blur of grey could be seen. Dark, and eerie...He could even taste it; smell it; the distinct characteristics that only smoke brought upon ones senses. Overpowering, and suffocating. But it was clearly not an explosion. No, something had crashed. And something meant resources.
His heart had already begun to pick up that adrenaline pace of rush and involuntary thrill. But just because it thrilled him, did not mean he liked it. It was harsh, and he could feel it beating against his throat. Towards the very back, which made breathing even more difficult. His aching feet move without his mind even instructing them to. Going from a straight backed stand into a mobile crouch. Bringing the sheathe of the knife to his mouth, and with a press of teeth, and a pull, freed it's steel. Pocketing the sheathe, and moving into and through the trees.
Within the shadows, level with any bush or shrub that could conceal his presence. Occasionally having to feel around, at the bark of the trees. When the darkness proved too thick.He didn't need to follow the smoke from above. Yoshi could smell it. And it smelled awful.
But this was necessary.
"Get the hell away creeps!"
Anna turned to the left, sprinting down the brick hallway, picking up a rusty lead pipe near the large garbage disposal outside. The Infected- a group of four- had been after her since the early morning. It pissed her off, coming across these psychotic cannibals again, but at the same time, scared her, although she was far from showing that physically. With swift reflexes, she dodged a hand that went out to grab her arm, bending back 90 degrees and stabbing the infected person straight up their abdomen and through the heart, crimson red blood splattering on her face and shirt. "God dammit! That was my favorite shirt, bitch!" She snapped, turning her frustration onto another one of the Infected, its guts splattering onto her cheek. She rolled out from underneath the swing of another ugly zombie, and made a break for it, dashing towards a motel across the street.
Her feet carried her quickly, running up the stairs and turning down a hallway. The Infected were now at the entrance of where she had gone, but Anna was a good distance away. She wound herself around the corner, cursing as the edge of the wall slightly scratched her upper arm. Her breathing was heavy, and as much as she wanted to just let it all out, she held it, hand on the outside doorknob to a room. Her hands gripped the brass, watching faint silhouettes of the Infected come down the hallway from the distance.
On impulse, she tried to open the door, only to find that it was locked no matter how many times she tried to open it, despite knowing it was already locked. It was just a matter of survival. "Shit," she muttered, lead pipe still in hand. She could never take a break in this world.
Sylvia bolted up and out of her chair when she heard the helicopter. It was far away, but she wasn't going to take any chances. She wasn't leaving the mainland. Sure, it was dangerous, but if they took her, then they would put her in a fenced in area like an animal. Perhaps it was safe, but she would go insane. She got up and ran out the door, stepping over the body that she took down earlier. She could see dust a good many yards away, so she ran in the opposite direction. She passed building after building and she was sure that there were supplies that she could have taken, but just the thought of being captured scared the hell out of her. It scared her more than the thought of becoming one of them. She wouldn't sink to either level.
"Shit," she mumbled as she stopped right in front of one of the infected. It wasn't looking at her though. There was another one at the door of a motel and that one wasn't interested in her either... If they weren't coming after her, that meant they were going after someone else. She pulled out her gun and shot both of them in the head and cutting the heads off before she ran inside. She followed the disgusting growling noises and found a group of zombies ganging up on a woman holding a lead pipe.
"Well, that certainly isn't the ideal weapon, now is it?" She threw her gun at the woman and took out her kitchen knife. Sylvia started to take down some of the zombies closest to her and could only hope that this survivor that she stumbled upon knew how to shoot a gun. She stayed alive this long fighting off the infected. She wasn't about to die from a stray gun-shot.
"What the hell?!" Anna swiftly stepped out of the way when a newcomer, who threw a gun in her direction, joined the party. The gun hit the floor behind her with a thud. Only two had gone after Anna, wanting to finish the job after she had taken down their friends, but now, a few more were coming up the stairs. "You invited more?!" Anna exclaimed, running her bloody lead pipe into the back of one of the Infected that had tried to sneak up on the woman across from her. Scarlet liquid stained Anna's face and arms, more splattering when she took down another few of the Infected, the lead pipe smashing their heads and splattering their guts and blood all around the motel's hallway. "I'm angry at you," Anna stated sarcastically towards the stranger, bending backwards before driving the lead pipe up into the Infected's left side of his abdomen and kicking away one of the other zombie-like creatures, her foot connecting with its chest, sending the ugly, gray-skinned creature back a few feet. Anna ran up to it, stabbing the creature in the heart just as it began to stand back up.
Kurureenu sat in the shadow of a completely different roof, taking her time to rest and eat and drink. She was in the middle of drinking from one of her two sports bottles when the helicopter came flying in, having flown pretty close to the building she was on. She stiffened up, watching as it flew toward the hotel and hovered there, the vehicle standing against a group of people and calling out an announcement to her. It perked up her attention, the thought of escaping from this hell that used to be her home. She watched the helicopter get shot at and go down with dazed brown-green eyes before snapping back to reality and shaking her head slightly. She packed her belongings together and walked over toward the door of the roof, it being closed and kept close by a fence panel for one of the kennels of the pound that she got it from. There were a few of the undead beings pressed up against it, their senses working hard at the smell of her blood and still beating heart. The chomped their teeth at her, but she just bent over, pulling the dagger from its sheath in her boot and readying it.
"Okay, guys... Time to drop," she told them clearing the group of them before opening the gate and leaving it open as she walked down the apartment. She walked down the steps quietly and made her way to one of the apartments, kicking some things aside before picking up a backpack and shoving a few things inside. She hefted it onto her shoulder, checked the holster for her gun and, after grabbing a couple more things from the toolbox in the kitchen, walked off and started her way out of the building. She peeked outside, making sure the coast was clear before skirting over toward the nearest alleyway.
First thing I need to get it some wheels. she thought, keeping close to the buildings, using the alleys and other objects in the street to block the sight of her while she scoped the streets for a decent vehicle to make use of. The other option is to walk the entire way.
Beginning to walk through the forest, he stopped and thought for a moment."Wait. What if those Outcast freaks get there first. Then I'd have to run from them again: This time they'd have better guns." Shaking his head he walked back towards the city, and away from the forest when he heard two gun shots. Jogging to the edge of the forest, Drake looked out from behind the safety of a large oak tree. He saw a single lady go inside the motel he exited only moments ago, towards the sound of fighting in this quite world. Drawing his revolver he walked slowly out of the forest line and looked down the road. He spotted a terrible sight, two military Humvee's painted black with a red skull on the hood.
Normally, military ment safety, protection, and a way to finally rest in this god forsaken world, but if you stayed around the city long enough you learn the symbol of the bandit faction running it. The Militia, the only thing stopping the Outcast from burning this hell-hole to the ground. Sure it sounded good, but they werent too friendly to survivors not following their leader, who ever the hell that may be.
Sprinting across the road, he prayed that they didnt see him, and he quickly dove back into the hotel, slamming the door shut behind him. Drawing his revolver he slowly made his way towards the sound of talking echoing in the dead halls of the motel. Outside, he heard the Humvee's speed past them, probably towards the crash site. Walking up the first set of stairs, Drake announced himself, curious to see if the lady and whoever she is talking to is a friend or foe. "Hello? Don't shoot I'm not dead."
Sylvia heard the gun hit the ground and groaned inwardly. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. She scooped the gun back up and shot the remaining zombies right in the head. It would take them down for a while, but the only real way to make sure they were down for the count. "Anger is good. Just don't aim that pipe at me and the gun won't get aimed at you." She stabbed one of the zombies with her kitchen knife and pulled it up so that it made a direct cut into its neck. At this point, both of them were splattered in blood and a nice pile of the infected were on the ground around them. There was only one more coming for them, so she raised her gun to shoot it.
"Hello? Don't shoot I'm not dead."
Sylvia held up the gun and aimed it at him anyways. So he could speak. That didn't mean much. He could have been recently infected or he could just be another survivor. She didn't want to take her chances though. Two more survivors in one day? It was almost a little too much. She realized how odd the two looked covered in blood and guts. Sylvia's red hair was matted and she didn't have one clean spot on her body, so she probably didn't look too intimidating.
But at the end of the day, no one stares into a gun and feels safe.
She wasn't cruel. She wouldn't actually shoot. She only got so many chances for amusement. She just wanted to see the guy sweat a little. She took a step towards him, her grip on the gun never loosening, aim never wavering.
"You're not infected? Prove it."
Anna looked at her strangely, but kept her thoughts and comments to herself, following the woman, beginning to head back towards the entrance of the motel. She stopped wathough, following up behind the stranger who had just helped her kill a pack of ugly-ass zombies. As soon as they had rounded the corner, there was a man in front of them. Anna couldn't help but become mesmerized by his appearance. Her hand tightened around the blood-stained pipe. It was probably best to allow the woman to do the interrogating- she had already started it anyways. Anna waited for proof from the man- it was best to not take chances with a guy who was this good-looking.
Darwin was perched on top of the tallest tree he could find, looking out towards the city. He had his quiver in his lap. He started counting his arrows. “One, two, three…” The hunter’s eyes glanced up towards the city, still continuing the arrows. He scanned the area, looking for any specific threats. He noticed a single man running away from a group. “Bitters? Nah, they’re alive. I don’t think bitters can shoot.” Darwin continued to count. ”Twenty two, twenty three, twenty four…” He picked up his pace. For whatever reason those men were chasing after that one man, Darwin wanted to be there. That wasn’t a fair fight, and he was all about being fair. “Fifty eight, fifty nine, sixty…” Not too soon after though, he noticed a helicopter in the distance. It was getting closer. ”Shit.” He muttered when he noticed he lost sight of the man, however, he soon gained sight of them again as they came out of a motel. This time it was just the group, with no sight of the man. “Seventy five… and the one in my crossbow makes seventy six.”
Darwin climbed out the tree, and started jogging. The helicopter was directly over the city now. The hunter lurked in the shadows, using techniques he learned from his years as a hunter to keep quiet and hidden. The ground shook. A loud bang filled the air. Darwin broke into a sprint, heading towards the motel. Right before he left the forest, he grabbed a stick. Which then he used the said stick to barricade the motel’s doors, along with anything else he could find. He grabbed his crossbow which was hanging by his side. He headed towards the commotion farther into the motel, crossbow first.
Drake looked over the two, both girls looked hot, but the one in the back caught his eye. Maybe it was the blood stained pipe, but something about her seemed strange. His eyes going towards the girl holding the gun, he stared her in the eyes and could help but give a light chuckle. The first survivors he has seen in weeks, and they already have a gun to his head. Hell he was used to it, it wasnt uncommon for a dealer to get the wrong end of a deal and end up with a gun or two in his face. "If I was infected, I would've offed myself long before this conversation ever started! Plus, how do I know you two aren't infected? It looks like y'all just took on the entire undead army!" Taking a step forward he said, changing his gaze to the other girl, and spoke for both of them to hear. "And if you don't believe me, you can check me for wounds."
Major Alexander Carver
He remembered the day like it was yesterday, a year ago in this very city where he was stationed. Perched on top of a small shopping mall, him and his squad battled a large mob of undead trying to get to the loud chopper ready to take flight behind him. His wife was next to him, firing her rifle into the zombie horde. Slowly getting pushed back to the chopper, the choppers side turret finally spun to life and teared into the horde as the squad climbed into the chopper. Suddenly the chopper and its crew heard a terrible sound: the turret jammed, just as the blunt of the undead charged forward. Panicking, the chopper took flight, without checking to see if its passengers were in. Taking off, the chopper left half of his squad, including Alexander's wife.
His eyes blinking open, it was the same dream every time he closed his eyes longer than a minute. Remembering what happened moments ago, he looked around his surroundings and spotted the second half of his chopper feet away from him. Several soldiers laid dead, but one screamed, one of his legs caught under burning metal. Starting to get up, he fell to his knees and threw up. Pushing himself he looked towards the man and saw a group of men, no raiders. Walking towards the crash, the group had wicked smiles on their faces, a dirty gun in each hand. Quickly shooting the screaming man, most of the group began searching for items, guns, or anything else they wanted. One man walked towards Carver, a jagged axe in his hand. Taking a step back, he heard a gun shot, and the man infront of him fall to his knees, and then to his back, a bullet in his throat. Turning he saw one of his newer soldiers beconing him to follow her. Running after the girl, he heard some of the men chasing after him, but heard several automatic guns open fire.
Looking up from their hiding spot, Carver and the kid saw soldiers dragging bodies and guns from the wreckage, but these soldiers were dressed in all black. Hearing the recruit stand next to him, saying "Thank god they got here!" quickly trying to grab him and pull him down, it was too late: the soldiers saw them. Pointing their guns at them, the soldiers approached the two men and separated the two. Feeling handcuffs on his back, he was forced towards a Humvee, painted black.
CYRUS 'YOSHI' BALDWIN
Soldiers. It was the only explanation ; The Military. And their intervention. Late, but somehow he could understand it. No, there was no 'somehow' about it. It was only, and would always be, because of the time his Mother served in the military's service. Watching, waiting. But waiting for what? Yoshi stared, with eyes that could only view the world in blurred colors and shapes. But he didn't need to see for this either. Didn't need to see to hear the merciless gunshots that he'd all and aspired to one day lie behind the lines of. His nose crinkles, but his expression remains the same. Quiet, as he peers from his spot in the darkness. Integrated and inconceivable. Bodies were on the ground. Their merciless, final burial ground. Soldiers or those sickening excuses for men that had shot up the place earlier. No one would remember their names. He might have, had he known them in the first place.Sensitive, keen ears pick up on even the faintest of sounds. But the relief of someone - he can't name, or particularly see - is uncanny. Obvious, even. A female, young too. And if she was there, alive and breathing - logically, she would have been a part of the military. Speaking to someone? Or speaking to herself in relief. Squinting, looking closer. But never leaning far away from his spot in the darkness. Two people - apprehended by a group of people wearing all of what he suspected to be black. Something close to them; a vehicle. But it was far too large; the shape too familiar; to be owned by a mere group of civilians."..." The wreckage had been stained with the blood and shame of those who had taken lives that very day. He didn't want to touch it anymore. Not when there would be nothing there but that grime and destruction of any humanity they had had, in life.He watches the pair; taken towards the vehicle. And stares at one person in particular. A soldier. Carver...But Yoshi didn't know his name. He only stared, a slim section of his hair parting to show off some of his eyes. Maybe Carver would see him, but maybe that's what Yoshi wanted.Possibly.Where were they going?
Anna couldn't help but smile a little when she saw the man's eyes pin on her. The grip on her lead pipe loosened a little. He didn't seem infected at all, in her opinion, but she had to be careful. "I'll do that," Anna spoke, immediately stepping forward towards the guy a few feet away from her and the female who had a gun to his head. She gently pushed the gun down with her right hand, hoping that girl understood her reason- she could kill him afterwards, if the man was infected. Anna just didn't think he was. "You don't mind if I, do you?" she inquired, referring to allowing her to check his wounds, as she placed down the pipe in her hand, on the floor next to her to show that she meant no harm.
The curiosity seemed too much to her. Especially when she saw the Humvees drive by. She had pressed herself against the wall of an alleyway, behind some trashcans, and watched as they passed from her hiding spot. After they left, and after she choked back the urge to vomit from the smell of the rotting trash that she hid by, she changed direction, heading toward where the Humvees went. Toward the helicopter crash. She used the tower of smoke that still plumed from where the helicopter went down as her guide, being careful to stay away from the path that the vehicles were on and using the trees and foliage to her advantage. She was relieved that, after being untouched for so long, the green had grown wild enough to make the trek a bit easier for her to hide from potential enemies.
She heard someone speak up. "Thank God they got here!" she heard, quickly pressing herself against a tree. While the voice was distant enough, she still felt too close to the wreckage. There were too many people and it strung up her nerves. She glanced up at the tree she was by before quickly shimmying up it, sitting down on one of the stronger limbs to carefully watch from there. With so many people in one area and this crash, it was sure to not only gain the attention of militia and scavengers, but also that of the undead.
Sylvia lowered her gun and watched the two of them. She still didn't really trust either of them, but no one was making her stay. She only came to help her out with the little infected problem. After seeing the other woman fight with the pipe, Sylvia figured that she didn't really need any help, but killing the infected was always a fun time. She glanced around and stopped her breathing for a moment so she could listen for more of them. Unfortunately, this building was clear. The other two in the room weren't infected. If they were, they would be dead by now. They would have tried to come after her and she would have shot them down, although she was running dangerously low on ammo. She had to look around for some more. Perhaps there was some in the helicopter, or maybe a new gun altogether.
Someone else decided to join their little party before she could go anywhere. He was holding a crossbow and it was pointed directly at them. She wasn't a huge fan of this idea. She pulled up her gun once more and aimed it at the newcomer.
"Hello. Who are you and what do you think you're doing with that?" she asked politely, nodding her head towards his crossbow.
Jayce sighed and looked at the house, but it was raided. He kicked the door open and closed it. Looking around for things that maybe others didn't find, he was unsuccessful. Walking to a suitable room, he set his weapons down and sat on the bed in the room. He thought about this house's previous owners, and how he saw a child's room while finding this room. The good ones always go away, he thought. Deciding to rest for a bit, as he was a bit tired after the run, he hid his guns, opened a bottle of fake blood he'd found at a joke store and smeared it on his body, and shut his eyes.
Darwin watched as the redheaded girl pointed her gun at him. He motioned to her to lower her aim as he glanced around. As he looked, he noticed the man he was after, but sadly, the man was still alive. “You mean that other group didn’t kill you? Damn. I wanted to loot your body…” Darwin frowned. “Well, this might’ve been a huge waste of time. Maybe I could still get something out of this.” Darwin strapped his crossbow onto his back and walked up to the strangers. He extended his hand out for a headshake, and said, “Bonjour! Mine name is Darwin.”