Among the Deceased. (ROLEPLAY THREAD)

R

Rufiya

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(Ooc: There is no restriction to the amount to be posted a day, and if you want a recap when you need catching up go to the sign up thread and ask. c:)

The golden sun rose into the the dead gray sky creating cracks in the dreary blanket with beautiful colors of yellow, red, and gold. It was one of the few beautiful things that Melody could experience in these past few days. It offered her temporary happiness but it faded away quickly as she left the rooftop which she stood. It was Monday? At least that's what Melody thought, but the days all seemed to mix together to create what seemed like one big nightmare. The wind blew hard on this particularly harsh day and Melody hesitated as she approached the edge. She took one look down into the alleyway below and saw the disgusting rotted flesh that infected her world.

"Tch." Melody sneered, spitting at them. But her eyes refocused at the other building just a few feet away from her. It was an easy jump judging by distance, but the buildings were about at the same elevation and like she noticed earlier, the wind blew harder than normal. But tossing it aside, Melody backed up slowly. Then she sprinted, her foot pushed up and the wind embraced her. But the feeling was ripped away from her violently as she felt the hard brick material smash against her chest. Her hands grasped for something to grab onto, and somehow she managed to find the heightened outline of the building. She gasped for air as how the impact managed to force out the wind she had inside of her and began to pull herself up, not wasting a moment of energy.

Then the sound of glass shattering vibrated throughout her ears and Melody felt a sickening decaying feeling on her ankle. She looked down and saw her greatest fear, a disgusting zombie clung to her ankle as it feebly attempted to sink its jaws into her flesh. She began to panic but reminded herself to keep her composure. She then proceeeded to smash her leg into the wall, and although it did hurt, it got the wanted effect and the zombie was sent all the way to the bottom finishing with a nice loud crack. Melody thanked God in a quiet whisper and she continued to pull herself onto the roof.
 
So, the story was, Old Jack here was following his favorite band through a US tour out of his own pocket. That's the only reason he was there. But it was nice. A veritable playground, after the Apocalypse hit. He was able to get a fair bit of exercise, climbing drainage pipes and window sills to help his arm strength. He was focused on developing speed for quick escapes. Not to mention, the roofs are good vantage points for bow sniping and a rather safe place for eating his edible loots. He was currently on his way up to the inaccessible roof of an apartment complex. Those were the safest types. Apartment complexes also generally weren't close to other buildings, so any accessible roofs were a few lawns away.

He got his hands on the edge of the roof and took a moment to admire American architecture. He then pulled himself up and grabbed a can of Spam from his pocket, and drew his bow with his other hand. With only 15 arrows, if he hoped to make them last, he'd have to pick his shots well, and retrieve the arrows. His free-running skills were useful for that. Jack examined the can of food he held, and laid down his bow. "Cooked Ham Product." He chuckled and pulled the cap off the tin can, and removed the glove off his free hand. "Bottoms up!" He flipped the can and tapped with his finger until the contents hit his free hand with a splat. He was slightly disgusted, but he couldn't afford to be picky. He took a bite and got comfortable.

"Not bad."

Later, Jack lightly wiped his hand on the asphalt shingles, so as to not scratch his hand too hard, then wiped it on his pants leg, and then replaced his glove. "Right. Well, so far, all the folks I've seen are absolute rubbish, which may be a side effect of being undead, so I guess I still need to look for some other survivors. Maybe somebody else knows how to use a bow. Competition." He cracked his neck to both sides and picked up his bow, notching an arrow in case he could do some sniping. He looked down to both sides, and even looked on the other side so as not get ambushed, before sheathing the arrow and holstering the bow, then making his way down the complex.
 
((-_- Ok lets try this for the 5th time today...))

John was sitting in an old building near the center of town. The last couple of days he had been trying to cleans it of the dead but it seemed useless to him now. He was down to one clip (6 shots) now and had no food. In his hand he held an empty beer bottle, he let it roll out of his hand and watched it bounce down the stair, breaking as it hit the bottom. It made a load crash and splattered. At first he didn't care but then the zombies started to show up, drawn to him by the sound, he stood up from his leaning position on the wall and made his way to the top of the building. He locked the heavy door from the inside and closed it when he was out. It would no longer be an option if he needed to leave but at least the dead wouldn't get through. He leaned against the wall again and slid to the ground listening to the moans and gurgles of the zombies.

Suddenly he heard a thud coming from the other side of the stair exit. He took out his revolver and peered around the corner pointing it at someone who was scaling the wall. He looked for a second in wounder then ran over and offered her a hand. "You ok?" He was strong and could pull her up if she let him, but then again she might not be friendly, if he had to shoot her he would... he killed seven survivors now, along with the hundreds of walkers, unfortunately he was never fast enough to save their victims.

((Yes! It didn't glitch out on me ^.^))
 
Church.

Most people find it to be a place of safety and purity while there are those who fight against what they do not believe or understand. Days after the outbreak began, a small group of people managed to keep hold within a church mostly unaware of the current status outside. A total of eight people remained in this place, two being children who were currently sobbing into their mother's breast, three sisters of the cloth who were leading a small sermon while the Priest stood on the alter watching the door with much dismay. The last was a homeless man who kneeled with his forward touching the ground praying to his God, Allah. There was no room for religious conflicts at this time they all needed to remain united in order to survive the end of days.

Kneeling before the alter, hands clasped together with rosaries wrapped around their fingers, eyes closed and lips moving in hushed whispers. The area was dimmed, lit only by candles and lanterns or the small amount of light shining in through the windows. The sounds of banging and clawing could be heard, making some huddle closer together or a few whimpers escape. They were all frightened and aware that death was at the door waiting to strike them down.
Sister Meredith kept her brown rosaries close to her lips, rubbing them between her fingers as she stared at the statue of Jesus hanging above them. The truth was, she was afraid…very afraid of what might happen and she was beginning to realize that she did not want to die. Was this selfish? She did not know. Was this all a part of God's plan? A cruel joke on the human race? Was this…the end of it all? Closing her eyes with a slight shudder she continued to whisper still with shaky hands. The sound of those dying around them were getting louder, screaming could be heard from those unfortunate enough to be left outside without shelter.

Father George had bolted the door days ago for fear of more casualties. They had lost three sisters and a visiting Priest, all of whom still wandered outside. There was enough food to last them a short while yet they were all aware that starvation would soon follow within a week none of them knew what to do at this point. The Spanish mother voiced her thoughts on the Military coming to save them, yet it was a very small moment of hope. Quietly, Meredith stood up and headed towards Father George, "We will…have to think of something and soon." He nodded in agreement before leaving them to tend to personal matters.
 
Melody gave a large gasp of relief as the man came to her aid. She grabbed his rough hand and let him hoist her up. But even then her other hand was holding onto of of her throwing knives that she discreetly hid in her black vest. Melody took one step forward but found the pain in her leg crippling.

"Ngh." She grunted, slowly laying on the floor. With her back against what seemed to be a radiator, she rolled up her black jeans to reveal a severely bruised calf. In her mind she cursed. Her one and only talent was busted up. As she began to calm down she also realized a slight pain in her chest with every breath. It was getting worse and worse by the minute.

But deciding that nothing could be done right away, her eyes then fixated on the man that helped her. He was a older man clearly, but she could tell he was strong but probably not that fast. Melody wondered if she could trust him. He seemed like an orderly man but no one was to be trusted.

Melody flashed back to the time when she it had first began, a husband left his wife and child because they were slowing him down. At first she wanted to help them but what she saw next was too much, what seemed to be behind their backs jumped onto the mother and..and..

Snapping back into reality with a cringe, Melody grabbed onto a steel pipe above her and pulled herself up, the burning sensation was still there but Melody could handle it she thought. Slightly limping over to him, with her hand still firmly on the handle of her blade.

"Who are you?" Melody questioned quietly. Even from over here she could hear the gurgles of the dead coming from the steel door to the side of him, the latch was easily unlockable and she formulated a plan if the man was not what he seems to be. Melody would run and open the door, surely out running him and then jump onto the next building that was conveniently shorter. She wasn't exactly sure if her leg could withstand it but it was all she had. Her body tensed as she awaited his reply.
 
"Calm down, I only interested in killing the walkers." He said with a sigh.. He could trust her, even if she turned on him the knife woud be nothing new. "My names John." He said with a friendly smile. She was tense and beat up, oddly enough she still tried to act tough. "You should rest for a bit. Catch your breath, wrap your leg. Keep yourself in health." He said as he took out his revolver, put it on the floor and slide it away. It wwas just far enough away where if he needed it he could grab it but regardless it should relieve her tension.
 
Melody's grip eased along with her body and her small hand went back to her side. Her persona seemed to change rather quickly, she pointed her shoulders forward while she kept her head low, as if she was nervous or concious of herself.

"I-I'm Melody." She managed to say quietly. Melody turned away from John and stepped a few steps back before she sat down once again, taking his advice. She slipped her black vest off, shivering as her pale skin was exposed to the wind and tore a long strip off the bottom before tying it around the bleeding parts of her bruised leg.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Melody asked, looking up at him then at the door. The gurgling still could be heard, terrifying as ever.
 
He had made his way into the inner city. Jack cackled as he looked off the roof of a somewhat short building, for a city. It would've seemed tall on the backroads. "Hella zeds up in this! That's exciting, maybe I can nip some zeds. I'm gonna need a pistol or summing. This bow's only good from the roofs." He had a bit of a habit of explaining his situation to himself. It kept him just as sane as usual.

He heard a door creak open and a walker pop out. He chuckled and noted the somewhat taller building on the other side of the street. He could theoretically make a jump across and land in a third story window, but that was a dangerous risk. He decided, instead, that he would scale up from the street and get to that roof. A good vantage point for an agile person. Before he knew it, there were three more astride the first, and he would have to make his decision quick. And then he had another idea.

Jack drew and flipped out his knife as the walkers stumbled over. "This is going to be disgusting." As it came within range, he cut it across the eyes and grabbed the scrap of clothing on its chest, and threw it behind him off the building. If they survived, they'd die later. He planted his knife into the collarbone of a second and threw it behind him, also off the building, and ran at the third, socking it in the jaw and nicking its arm, and followed suit with the rest, throwing it behind them. The last one still proceeded. "C'mere, you ugly brute!" He backed up and circled around so as to get extra distance on it, then pocketed his knife, and brandished his bow, nocking an arrow and aiming for it. Even if it wasn't a kill, it would stagger him, and he'd be open for a 'Spartan Kick' off the edge.

He pulled back the arrow and made sure his aim was straight, then loosed it into the zed. It hit the eye, an easy shot considering the rather short distance. It stepped back and lost balance, giving Jack a chance to get up close. He pulled his arrow out of the eye socket and kicked the beast hard enough to send him off the edge, and then placed the now infected arrow into his quiver. That'll be a nice way to deal with someone he doesn't like. The thought came to his mind and he decided he had a new type of arrow. "Nice way to settle a grudge, that."

With that settled, he figured he'd look for some other survivors in town. He noted a church where zeds were piling on. They could probably smell the flesh. It would be good for his theoretical karma if he tried to bust them out. He'd have to make a path for them, though. Just because he could get in doesn't mean they could get out. He'd have to figure that out. With that thought in mind, he began to survey the area for ways to do this.
 
Melody turned from John temporarily as she decided to think of a plan. She walked to the other side of the roof and put her hands on her hips as she looked around the city, it was once so beautiful but that was all gone. She thought it about how it once was but decided it would be best if she'd just drop the thought, then a faint echo vibrated through the air.

"Who would shout in a time like this?" Melody questioned. She looked back at her leg and flexed it slowly, it still had a sharp stab feeling to it but she felt that she could handle it. Turning back to John she told him that she'll be back in a bit.

With a deep breath, Melody turned around and began running, this time she pushed up with her uninjured foot and although it was weaker she managed to make it onto the next building closest to the sound without too much trouble. Then she noticed a man? or was he a teenager? All she knew was that he must've been crazy. She continued to watch him from afar.
 
Weaknesses in the church structure, likely from bad maintenance, or from walkers sharpening their claws on the stone, could be busted down in the right way so as to get a relatively easy way from a window, onto the roof. That was a risk he'd love to take. "Hail Mary, motherfuckers!" he shouted as he set the first weakness in motion, climbing on top, applying force in the desired direction, and jumping off, part of the structure crashing in his wake. He landed on the second bit he needed to send crashing, and did the same, this time, landing on the upper pane of a stained glass window somewhat above ground at the base. He latched on, and felt it crack under him. Oh, yeah, he'd be bleeding afterwards.

A hard knock with the bottom of his fist and the glass gave way, though he still hung onto the pane to keep him above ground. He thought he'd be clever and say something relevant to the religion. The thought flashed away as he heard the homeless man praying in Arabic. "Sorry about the damage." Jack took a minute to check if his mohawk was straight, and fan out his gloved hands. "You guys can get onto the roof, though. Might be able to find a safe way down once you get there." The sisters, silenced by his savior intrusion, looked at him blankly. The father had a weapon pointed at him alarmingly. He threw up his hands as he noted the father. "My apologies, pastor. I saw the walkers outside, and thought they smelled flesh. I figured I'd help."

He looked around, hands still up, and noted one of the sisters. She seemed almost crushed by the current developments.
 
John sighed and leaned onto the steal door that the zombies were banging on. He took out another bottle of beer and went to drink it but stopped just before it reached his lips. He smiled and put an old rag in the tip that he found on the roof and light the lighter he got in a trade. After lighting the rag and waiting a second he opened the door and threw it down lighting the zombies on fire. As the fire spread he ran back and watched from the other side of the concrete roof. He smiled as he watched the zombies try and rush at him. Before they could even get close they dropped from the fire. "That's how you kill some zombies." He counted 7, good thing he killed them with the fire... he only had 6 bullets left and who knows how fighting it would have gone. He looked over to the strange girl he had found. She was standing on the roof of a nearby building. He sighed then went back to sitting, now out of beer... and he had no food left.
 
In the middle of a blacked and broken street sat a young girl, no older than 18, with black hair draped over her face as a curtain.It appeared as if she was eating something. Smacking and crunching noises camefrom the girl as she mowed down on her meal. Her head pulled back as she tuggedat a hunk of meat, removing the curtain that hid her deranged and bulging eyes.Her tasty morsel, a fattened arm, seemed more than satisfying for the girl; youcould tell by the grin on her face. A body laid nearby the girl, a man with anarray of holes in his chest and a missing arm. The girl seemed most joyful asshe sawed though the leg with sharpened knife, and then began to chew on thatas she had lost interest in her arm.

Then someone just had to spoil her dinner party. Groaning guests came from all directions, wanting to take part in the banquet. "Ah my friends!" the girl called out to them with a cracking voice. "Come closer! I have a gift for you all." And with such an invitation, how could they refuse? They picked up the pace as the rushed to receive their gift. The girl put her armaside as to be polite to her friends, and picked up a nifty shotgun that satnearby. She stood up with gun in hand and covered in blood. Her first friend tostep up was an ugly fellow wearing a nice tux that had been tattered from allhis improper conduct. With a toothy grin the girl lifted the gun, "HAPPYBIRTHDAY!" and pulled the trigger that let out a spread of festiveconfetti, right into his nice tie. The man fell over as he was filled with thefun and a spray of blood splattered her face in a 'thank you.' She was sure notto miss the other guests.
"MERY CHIRSTMAS!" Splat! "HAPPY HANUKAH!" Thud! "FUCKEN EASTER!" Boom! "GOD DAMN LEIF ERICSON DAY!" Click!

All seemed to stop, even the zombie, as she had not received her gift. The girl'seyes widened to even larger proportions. "Crap..." And the zombie wasdispleased. They came charging even faster now that they had been mistreated and had not received their gift. What bad a bad hostess! But she would neveradmit to throwing a bomber party! To settle the crowd she gave them somethingextra special. WACK! The zombies head nearly fell off with the force. Its head went right around to look at the other, then flopped to the ground. The show was back on!


After the party was over and her guest had been entertained to death the girl left the party to find some munchies for her baby. It was starving.That building she saw might just be where to look, it was actually partially intact.
 
John watched as the girl walked over to the building he was in. He knew the zombies downstairs were far to many for her to handle but he was low on ammo... one life wouldn't mater... he never got there in time before... but... He cursed at himself knowing he would never be able to talk himself out of helping her. The fire was now out so he started to make his way down using no ammo on the zombies on the upper levels. The lower one had dozens so he would need to take down as many as possible from range if he wanted to have a chance. With well placed shots it could be 6 zombies down, he hoped he could make every shot count. Just as he made it to the stairway he could see she had made it to the door. He just hoped she was prepared for what was coming. He aimed his first shot waiting for the door to open. He planned to draw at least half of their attention, distributing the zombies evenly between them.
 
Sister Meredith was about to follow the Priest when the sound of shattering glass and screams could be heard. With a quick turn, Sister Meredith was incredibly surprised to see a stranger talking to them. How incredibly reckless of him! He was endangering them all.

People looked scared and confused while a long silence fell between them. Meredith took a step forward with an accusing finger raised, "Have you any idea what you've done!?" Her yell was more of a harsh whisper as she pointed towards the door which was beginning to crack under pressure, literally. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

"Sister Meredith, calm yourself." An older sister spoke up, gripping the shoulders of the mother holding her children. "We must not panic now." The sounds of footsteps caused them all to turn as the Pastor returned, looking distressed. "What is going on here?"

The sounds of hungry souls grew louder and a large cracking sound could be heard causing people to look towards the door as the head of a deformed looking man poked his head through a new hole. His mouth was opening and closing, as if he could taste their flesh in the air while he made a terrible sound causing one of the children to scream loudly. "Quickly, everyone out of the Mass Hall!" Father George pointed towards a hallway and allowed people to run ahead of him. With a fleeting glance of disapproval towards the stranger, Meredith turned on her heels and headed for safety.
 
"Oh, come on, I just made a go--" Jack held his tongue. Offending people was not a good way to make friends in any situation, especially when one needed them most. "I just made a way to the roof!" He looked to the door as it was torn down and Jack wished to whatever gods were in existence that he had some sort of explosive arrow or something. Hell, he'd like Incendiary. Because he was stuck with just his bow for ranged, he palmed his pocket knife and followed the others. It'd been a long time since he had to run in such confined space.

Following the others with greater speed than they, Jack kept himself in the back, holding his eyes to the pack. "You guys MUST have a better plan if you're going to just fandangle the entire damn thought. Well, I hope it works, because I do believe I'm the only one here with a real weapon." His eyes once again passed over that broken-looking nun. She seemed rather angry. She didn't understand what he did. Nobody did, apparently, because his efforts went to waste.

He looked around a bit and slowed down, drawing his bow. He nocked an arrow and aimed for an overhead fixture. "God forgive me," he said casually, loosing the arrow, sending the fixture crashing to the ground. It killed a good amount of zeds, and presented an obstacle for the rest. With that, he caught back up with the group. "Couldn't help but notice you guys are a bit slow. You can only run for so long before they catch up, or you get tuckered out. You might do well to arm yourselves a bit better."
 
Irre looked at the shabby door witha sideways stare. Who knew what she was waiting for... Was she waiting for aninvitation?
Maybe she was for she began to knock on the door. "Little pig, little pig,let me in," she sang as her knocking became loud thumps. Moaning was heronly answer. "Fine! Then I'll huff! And I'll puff! And I'll," sheshouted as she kicked down the door. "And I'll blow your head off!"Irre shoved her shotgun in the face of some fat piggy and pulled the trigger,and the only response was a disappointing, 'click.' "..."
"FUCK!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Her entrance had beenruined, what would her zombie friends think of her now? She began to gargleloudly, almost sounding like a piggy herself. "UUGGH!" And with allher might she threw the gun at the fat piggy. The shotgun made quite an impactas it slammed into his chubby face and sent his head flying backwards, with gunstuck in his mouth. "YOU SEE! THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS!"she screamed at the zombie as it hit the ground, her finger jabbing at the airpointing at what was left of his face.
The other piggies were quick to his side, all oinking and grumbling. Irrerubbed her hands together imitating a fly when it finds a nice pile of shit."Oh I do like the taste of fat piggies..."<o:p></o:p>
 
When he heard the door being kicked open he opened fired getting 5 down with his 6 shots. Then started hamming them down with the butt of the revolver. "Whoever you are down there just don't die." he said almost casualy as he continued to take on a seemingly endless force. He started to get push back up the stairs as the zombies advanced. It looked like all of them started to go after him. He made it to the top and started to kick them down causing them to pile up and half block the stair well. It was enough for them to change targets yet again. He had telen down 14 all together and unless she killed some aswell 10 were left. He hoped she would have enough sence to run... or atleast a weapon...
 
With all the piggies falling without reason, Irre thought that just maybe, someone else was here. You know, the gun shots might have been a hint. Luckily, whoever was the shooter, they had left some for her to play with. She giggle with girlish glee as she pulled out her butcher knife and began to slash blindly at the zombies. Blood was flying in all directions as her blade slashed back and forth; making art on the walls and herself even. After chopping up four she kicked the fifth away, and as it fell to the ground she causally tossed the knife into his ugly face. Then with bare hands began to wrestle with another. It kept trying to nibble off her head and she would laugh and say, "Oh stop it! That tickles!" Then slammed his eye into the handle of the door behind her. The other four, though, were still a problem. Essen ran over and snatched up her knife again just before sticking it into the flesh of a thin woman. "To skinny! Eat something!" even though that was her whole intent. The next two went down with gouges and cuts. And the last just had to go down stylishly as to show off for the stranger that would be her next meal. She was already planning the spices. The threw the knife in his neck as she began to walk up the steps to her dinner. The zombies littered on the ground might have been a banquet just for the taking, but Irre knew better than to take part in the meat of the undead; it was hell for the bowels.

She stared at the ripe piggy with a mad hungry glint in her eye. Her tong moistened her dry and cracked lips as her feet carried her closer. "Little pig.... Little pig..." she chanted under her breath.
 
Jack couldn't contain a sense that things had just stopped for a very long time, and that he'd have to act to get things together again [the thread died and I'm the only one who thought to do anything about it] so he ran ahead of the group to bust down the door they were headed towards. A bit of excitement would probably get things back on track [taking control will help things arrange again].

DROPKICK! Knockout! Door loses! Jack wins!

The crashed light fixture wouldn't last through what felt like [what was] days of stopped time and a few more minutes. Things had to happen and they had to happen quickly. "Get your ass in here, priest! C'mon, you damn nuns! Get through here, hobo!" He wasn't normally that disrespectful, but he had to do something, he felt.
 
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