Zombie Apocalypse Rp! IC

Should I make this into an individual rp too?

  • Yes

    Votes: 2 66.7%

  • No

    Votes: 1 33.3%
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    3
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Anna and Mark:

Anna glanced to Mark then back to the child and man in front of them, holding one hand up in half of the traditional 'we mean no harm' pose, though her other naturally kept the shortbow close to her side in case of trouble as they brought the three horses to a stop. "Hello" She returned the greeting then smiled "It's so good to know we aren't the last people alive"

While his sister talked, Mark was keeping an eye on the area, making sire they wouldn't get snuck up on by anyone, dead or living. He didn't trust that something bad wouldn't happen, especially now that they were no longer alone again. It was dangerous to travel alone, but being with people could be dangerous too and he wanted to keep his sister safe.
 
With a strong tug the bolt came loose from the skull of the corpse with a sickening crack, a piece of skull dislodging with the tip as he recovered it to be used again later. "Great.. " he commented under his breath before picking the piece of skull from the bolt, grimacing a little before stowing it back into a makeshift quiver he'd made for his crossbow.

He exhaled, taking a look around at the abandoned gas station before crouching to pat down the corpse for anything valuable. Thankfully he found a cartoon of cigarettes, not that he smoked mind you but they made for a good trading resource when he was running low on essentials. Some of the smaller settlements which hadn't shot at him or told him to "piss off" seemed to value trading at least.

He stood back up, placing the small pack into his bag before heading inside the station, raising his crossbow to his shoulder as he slowly began to check the place out, making sure there were no more of these walking nightmares waiting around the corner to jump him. If he was lucky he'd find some medical supplies, maybe a pharmacy with some stock left un-looted.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking but he wasn't one to walk away without at least checking first.
 
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(Hey guys, I would hope that sometime in the near future of the rp we meet up all together somewhere! Just a thought/Suggestion~)
 
(Feel free to turn up at the gas station!)
 
After leading most of the undead away, she finds herself a gas station. She rides up and opens the door, bringing her bike in with her. She shut the door and put her bike against it, hoping it would keep the undead from getting in. She grabbed her cross bow and knife and quickly went behind a shelf, hoping they wouldn't see her. She needed to wait for the hoard to pass before she could go back to the others. She breathed heavily and closed her eyes. She held her crossbow close and gripped the knife tightly, not even considering the possibilities of finding another survivor in here.
 
"Empty... "

The plastic bottle which might have once contained ibuprofen clattered across the floor before he picked up another, and then another only to find that most if not all were empty. He'd expected it to some degree but it didn't change the feeling of frustration he felt at not having found much today in terms of useful items. He sighed, checking through his bag to get a good idea of what he had left before looking around again. The place had fortunately been empty when he'd arrived, save for a few more corpses left on the ground, their heads blown apart which suggested he hadn't been the first to come across this place.

Just as he was about to get going the faint sound of an engine reached his ear, causing his brow to furrow before picking up his crossbow from the counter where he'd left it while searching the pharmacy. It became louder and louder, to the point where he was sure it was about to pass by before it stopped right outside. "Shit!" he whispered to himself before he lowered himself into a crouch to better hide himself, worrying about whom it might be and the attention likely drawn in by the sound of what he'd assumed to be a motorcycle. Daniel exhaled deeply a few times before shouldering his crossbow, advancing towards where he'd last head the noise.

It was dangerous and instinct told him to bug out and leave, but then again... curiosity was a burden him and many others shared. He walked up the side of an isle before peering around the corner, spying what appeared to be a young woman holding a weapon similar to his own, seeming to be heightened if not stressed by whatever it was her situation entailed. He weighed his options, moving slowly as he moved back and circled around to move closer. She had a weapon and he couldn't risk startling her unless he wanted to suffer the same fate as one of these corpses that now missed a head. Slowly he moved to the side, shouldering his weapon as he took aim.

Crouched he wasn't more than a few feet away from her, his crossbow aimed towards her head close enough that missing was impossible. "Don't move" he said in a deep tone, watching for a sudden reaction. "Put the weapon down, then you can tell me what you're doing here... and why you made so much damn noise".
 
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"Well I'm fucking sorry I just saved a group of survivors!" She hissed, looking back and quickly regaining her position. "Dammit... they're here already..." She mumbled. "Listen, we're gonna be stuck with each other for a while, so why not put the bow down? I don't want to have to use mine..." she mumbled softly. "Just an fyi, I raided most of this place a while ago..." She mumbled. She ran a hand through her hair and looked down at the large cut she had made on her arm. The undead started to get not as interested as she continued along, so she had to cut her arm open and get them distracted by the smell of fresh human blood. She hissed softly in pain as she looked for something to stop the bleeding.

@Winter
 
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Saffron walked along the streets quietly, keeping her eyes peeled in case of the damned monsters decided to show up. She had been alone this entire time and she needed supplies fast, not to mention something that could help give her sword a sharp edge again. Pulling out some binoculars from her nearly empty bag, she brought them to her eyes and looked around before spotting a gas station up ahead. Smiling to herself, she put the binoculars back in her bag and started jobbing towards the station, her black combat boots making slight tapping noises on the ground. It too a bit but she was able to make it but once there, she saw that there was undead coming up to the station as well. Cursing under her breath, the black haired woman decided to silently move to find a hiding place that was far from the hoard but close enough to throw rocks at the place to make only a bit of noise to alert the living. Picking up some rocks, Saffron threw them at the windows of the place to let the occupants inside know about her and hopefully let her in.
 
Briar Rose:

Briar Rose smiled. "Yes ma'am," she agreed. "Um...I am Briar Rose and this is..." Uh-oh, do I introduce him as 'El Hueso' or as Ramon? Well...now's not the time to be threatening, right? "This is Ramon. Can I pet your horses?" she asked hopefully.

Tatterdemalion:

Through a tangle of trees and bushes, Tatterdemalion could barely make out the forms of three horses. Two of them bore riders, the third, packs. A large tree blocked the people they were talking to, but the one that spoke had a small voice almost like...like a child. The third horse tossed its head, and Tatterdemalion felt an electric jolt run through her. The black horse had a lovely, shapely head, and a long, wavy mane like a waterfall of obsidian. Is that Gwen?! It almost has t' be, doesn't it? Anna and Mark had three black Frisian horses. All beautiful, but Gwen was fairest of all in Tatterdemalion's eyes. She wasn't close enough to hear voices clearly, but what were the odds of any other survivors having horses like that?

A rattle of cans, from higher up the hill. "Fuck," a voice hissed. Someone had set off one of the 'traps' she'd set around the boundaries of 'her' forest, to warn her of the approach of others. Unfortunately, they were coming from within the boundary. In a deft movement, she ducked to the other side of the tree she'd been using to give herself cover from the road, and started to reach for her bow.

"Don't," another voice said in a hiss, pitched so it wouldn't carry over distance. Tatterdemalion snapped her head to the sound, seeing nothing at first. Then, movement. A hulking shape with dangling tendrils, like some swamp monster, emerged from the trees. A rifle in its hands, pointed at her. It took her a moment to recognize the form as a man in a ghillie suit. "Got her," he hissed again. Down the hill came several more men with rifles, dressed in hunting camouflage.

"This your work?" one of them said with a smirk, holding up a length of twine that dangled an acorn-shaped fairy house carved from wood and shingled with pine cone pieces. "Figured this'd be a chick's doing. Not too bad lookin' either," he said, raking his eyes up and down her body.

"Oooooh, so it's entertainment ye seek from Tatterdemalion," she said, twirling like a ballroom dancer, careful to stay out of arm's reach. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she kicked herself for the subtle falter in her voice. With a flourish, she reached for her belt and drew, not her sword, but her wooden flute, presenting it with a beaming smile she didn't feel as the men tensed and raised their rifles. "What good to ye is a dead Tatterdemalion?" she asked, shaking her head. "No one's makin' bullets anymore lads. Any that ye use on me, are bullets ye'll wish ye had later, that I promise." One of them reached for her, but she danced teasingly out of reach, giving him a fey grin. If this is goin' t' be me last act, I'm glad it's about savin' friends, she thought, steeling herself for whatever lie ahead.

She raised the flute to her lips.

"Don't," the man with the ghillie suit said again. "You think if you draw some walkers, you'll have a chance to get away?" he sneered. The lens of his rifle's telescope glinted, merciless as a black widow's eye.

"Oh no," Tatterdemalion purred. "The ghouls are clumsy in the hills, stay mostly on th' roads." She continued to move and turn, making the men fan out to hem her in--but most importantly, keeping their attention. She started playing the opening notes of Loreena McKinnit's The Highwayman. Anna and Mark would know the song; the men probably wouldn't. With luck, the Raynes would get the message: oppressors with guns threaten those who ride along the road. As she played, it hit her that she was in the role of the captured innkeeper's daughter...for whom the tale did not end well.

Briar Rose:

"What's that?" Briar Rose said as a haunting, mournful melody came down from the hills as if blown on the breeze. She might have been captivated by its beauty, if it did not sound so much like tragedy.
 
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Mark and Anna

Anna and Mark looked towards the sound then to eachother, both frowning at it. They returned their attention to the man and girl ahead of them "A message to get off the roads, if I am right " Mark said, turning that way. "It sounds like Tatter, but if it is, then she and we are already in trouble." He looked to Anna again, a silent communication before both nodded, turning not to leave, but to go and help. Mark drew his sword as they crossed the ditch, getting ready for the encounter ahead, though he kept in mind the gun at his back. He did not want to pull it since the sound would attract walkers to the area and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

The first one they came across was too focused on Tatterdemalion to notice their approach, until it was too late. Mark struck him in the head to knock him out then looked around at the others surrounding the familiar female in the center "Is this how we treat women now?" He asked loudly to gain their attention while Anna focused her bow on the apparent leader. Mark struck down a second, though he miscalculated that blow, that one would never rise again, in either form. He didn't like to kill, but he pushed that away as he focused on the remaining members of this gang. "Leave her alone or else."
 
Meanwhile, less than half a kilometre (or less than half a mile) away from a certain gas station, a man in an odd suit of armour pulled a black knife from the back of the skull of one of the undead. He makes a disgusted sound as he wipes the rotted blood off on what remains of the creature's clothing, before returning the blade to it's sheath on his left shoulder pauldron. He looks down the street, seeing some figures down the way outside the building, but not before the loud and distinct sound of a motorcycle engine reaches his ears. He unslings his rifle, peering down the scope to get a better view of the people at the station. Two, maybe three, figures reached his eye, as well as signs of a small crowd of the undead approaching the place. He frowns slightly under his helmet, before reslinging the weapon around his back, making his way in the direction of the station, from the opposite direction of the crowd. "Either someone has a deathwish, or they're acting as bait for someone else. Hopefully it's the latter..." He mutters to himself as he begins the quick jog to the building.

The man gets within a block of the building before slowing to a walk, unslinging his rifle again, and looking down the scope. "Those things are about two or three minutes away from the station, maybe less."
 
(meh screw the fancy post shit)

Ramon looked up at the sound of people approaching. With the lack of ammo, he merely gripped his bat tighter, watching the group approach and Briar Rose speaking to them. He was worried about the kid. She was likely going to be taken advantage of. A lot. So, she would likely need a protector of sorts. Yeah, she could deal with zombies, but what about living breathing humans? Probably not as well. He broke free of his thoughts, glad to see these people weren't harmful- yet. When they left, Ramon looked to Briar. "Well they could be trustworthy." He told her, loosening his joints. "We should start seeing if others are alive."


Having packed up, Beth followed Leigh in hopes of reaching his old house before a new pack of zombies made their way back. Cry had already lured some away, but it probably wouldn't be long until more had come back. She made sure to watch for zombies behind them, but it seemed all clear. The only one she saw didn't notice them. "I really hope you're right about your house." She muttered to Leigh. She wasn't going to be happy if a gang had already taken up residence.


Leigh nodded to Beth. "Yeah, I know people wouldn't have boarded up there. Not enough supplies right away." He told her. "But plenty of area for farming. We should even have some seeds lying around, mother liked her fresh vegetables." She never planted them, of course. There was a gardener, just as there were maids and a pool boy. The family never did anything by themselves. If they could pay someone else to do it, why not?

After some time walking, the two made it to the end of the driveway. "See? No signs of anyone here." He said, going up to the gate. Normally, there was a button to open the gate. However, as an added safety feature, it became a push gate with no power. He pushed, the gate cracking open just a bit; enough for a person to squeeze through. He closed it after they had gotten through. We'll need to find a way to secure that. He thought, going up to the front door. "Also, we have brick walls around the perimeter. Safe as can be." He gestured to the walls, something his conspiracy theorist of a father wanted installed. It was also why he collected old guns. Unfortunately, he hadn't got around to making a bunker.
 
((Ah, screwed up timing on the post, 'bout to fix that, sorz))
The man in the suit of armour curses under his breath before he actually makes it to the station, arriving a bit too late. The figures from before had entered the building, and the hoard had surrounded it. Whoever was inside was definitely trying to keep their attention, but success was on a moment-by-moment basis. The horde started to disperse, before moving back in the direction of the building proper. He sighs, scoping out the building, trying to get a better view of the (currently living) occupants. He scowls under his helmet, before fishing out his old walkie.

Keeping his scope on the building, he begins cycling through channels, hoping that one of the two that he can barely make out from his vantage point has a walkie as well. "Hello? You, in the gas station, if you get this, respond." He waits approximately 5 or so seconds for a response, before switching channels and repeating the line. Every few switches, he takes a look around him to make sure none of the undead have taken notice of him, before going back to cycling through walkie channels.
 
She heard the walkie go off in her bag. "Shit..." She cursed, slowly getting up. She ran to the walkie and pressed the button. "You're gonna get us killed if you don't shut the hell up!" She hissed into it.
 
The man heaves a sigh of relief, glad that at least someone had a walkie, and that it worked. He clicks on the walkie, scoping out the front of the building. The horde seemed to have heard the other party's walkie, moving towards the front door. Frowning, he clicks his walkie off for a moment, before looking around for something that would make sufficient noise. He picks up a rock, slinging his rifle across his back, before throwing it at a wreck of a car that's somewhat close to the horde, making a resounding 'clang' sound that grabs their attention for a few precious moments. "You know most walkies have volume, right?" He waits a few seconds for the person on the other side to catch his drift, before continuing on. "And on the subject of getting you lot killed, I think you've got a handle on it. Which is why I'm putting a huge risk on us both, because I'm willing to help you out here." He looks around him, checking for any corpses that might've gotten interested. Upon finding none, he continues. "Across the street on the side without the gas pumps, you'll see a..." He looks at the building he is taking cover next to, thinking of a description. "A ruined Mickey D's. I'm standing next to it."
 
She peeks up from behind the shelf and sees a man in a big, clunkly, metal suit. "How the hell do you move around in that thing?" She asked. "And for your information I thought the batteries had died in this thing..." She mumbled. "I was just going to wait out until the hoard passed but I see that is no longer an option..." She sighed. "So, now it's your turn. How the hell are you going to get us out of this?"
 
Saffron had watched quietly on what had been happening. She could here what sounded like a walkie talkie coming from somewhere near the old McDonalds place and caught sight of a man in a bulky ass suit of armor. Picking up another rock, the former writer chucked it at a car a bit farther away, making a louder noise for the creatures to follow. Once that was done, she silently started to make her way over, hoping not to alert any of the dead beings around.
 
The man cracks his neck, unslinging his rifle again. "How good are you with that bike? And do you have a destination after you get out of that hellhole? Because I can give you a damn good distraction, as long as you can get me out of the ensuing 'fecal-matter-hitting-the-ceiling-based-rotary-air-conditioner' situation. Nothing like gunfire to attract the dead. I could probably even use a few of these buildings to trap some of the hoard, but that won't help when more arrive. There's also plenty of rustbuckets around that make a real nice clang when you hit 'em with anything solid." He turns around as he hears a clang, scoping down his rifle, before seeing another survivor approaching. He lowers his rifle, beckoning them over, before scoping back in on the gas station.
 
"I've been riding ever since I could move my legs. I'm damn good at that bike." She said. "Who else is out there with you?"
She asked, standing up. "I have a destination. There are a group of survivors I need to get back to."
 
Saffron smiled and quickened her pace a bit, hoping to make it to the male without being caught. Luck seemed to be on her side today and she didn't make a sinle loud noise and got to the metal man in one piece. "Hey metal man. Seems like there are more survivors than I thought." She whispered, keeping an eye on the undead.
 
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