R
Reiyd
Guest
Original poster
OOC: Yes, I know. ANOTHER zombie thread. To be honest I love zombies and the other ones here aren't the same style I'd be going for. I want realistic, as much as it can be. If you use a power I prefer it not be magic based, like an extra sense or enhanced physical prowess, but you can use magic type abilites as long as they aren't uber powerful. Now for some IC!
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Marcus' feet slapped the plain, dusty concrete repeatedly. His heart was pounding in his chest, making his neck feel tight as he choked for breath. With each step his feet ached more and more. He begged himself not to collapse in the street. He begged himself not to die. The groans of the damned creatures echoed through the empty streets and made him feel surrounded, even though he was relatively safe. His dry hair slapped in his face against the wind, and he spat it out for the nth time. It's golden color now resembled that of dried out wheat, from his lack of housing and therefore; running water. Marcus finally stumbled across an alley full of trash and fell on his knees, panting. He could hear and feel his heart beat in his head. His mouth hung open as he gasped for breath. He couldn't move for several minutes, and when he did, he felt utterly weak. Then, a low rumbling groan resounded from in front of him and he stood bolt upright. Instead of taking his chances, he turned to climb up the fire escape stairs up to the top of the apartment building. Marcus sighed as his shoes tapped the rusty black metal stairs endlessly. Once on top, he laid down in his orange and white-striped lawn chair and tried fruitlessly to catch some sleep, his heartrate finally slowing. His hair was now the color of wet sand and matted to his forehead.
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Marcus' feet slapped the plain, dusty concrete repeatedly. His heart was pounding in his chest, making his neck feel tight as he choked for breath. With each step his feet ached more and more. He begged himself not to collapse in the street. He begged himself not to die. The groans of the damned creatures echoed through the empty streets and made him feel surrounded, even though he was relatively safe. His dry hair slapped in his face against the wind, and he spat it out for the nth time. It's golden color now resembled that of dried out wheat, from his lack of housing and therefore; running water. Marcus finally stumbled across an alley full of trash and fell on his knees, panting. He could hear and feel his heart beat in his head. His mouth hung open as he gasped for breath. He couldn't move for several minutes, and when he did, he felt utterly weak. Then, a low rumbling groan resounded from in front of him and he stood bolt upright. Instead of taking his chances, he turned to climb up the fire escape stairs up to the top of the apartment building. Marcus sighed as his shoes tapped the rusty black metal stairs endlessly. Once on top, he laid down in his orange and white-striped lawn chair and tried fruitlessly to catch some sleep, his heartrate finally slowing. His hair was now the color of wet sand and matted to his forehead.