Another Case Of Bad-AsseryReplies: 9 / 6 years 352 days 22 hours 37 minutes 57 seconds
- [Allowed] Ready
- [Allowed] Akiho
- [Allowed] Crackerstheking
- [Allowed] Midna
- [Allowed] Ondine
- [Allowed] Tondemonai
- [Queued] Carbon
- [Queued] MisterMeisterMan
See this picture? This place looks really calm doesn't it. No? Aww ... C'mon, It doesn't? Well, if not, you're right. Everywhere in this little city, there are things ... death lingering all around the streets. They don't think ... they just eat. And kill. But after they kill, somehow, they come back to life. One by one, the pop up and eat whatever isn't them .... And slowly, the world is coming to an end.
These photos are the streets of a little city called Talanta, where nothing goes on at all. No excitement, everyone pretty much knows everybody they live close to. It rarely rains. In summer, they have beautiful, and mainly warm temperature. In the winter, snow falls all around and is absolutely stunning. It's cold, but not too cold, unless severe weather occurs. An absolutely beautiful place to live. Until this morning ...
Somehow, People have been dying and coming back to life, decomposing as they walk. They become blind, only able to react to loud sounds. And they eat human flesh. This town has become a living hell, and only a few have been surviving. But once you're bitten, there is no saving you.
RULES.:No Godmodding. If You Die, You Die. No Killing Other People's Characters. No Cybering, TimeSkip Or Take It Outside Of ES.:Profanity Is Allowed. Violence, Of Course. Romance Allowed/No Insta..:This Is Semi-Literate. I Expect At Least A Good Paragraph Or Two. No Text Talk..:Anime Or Drawn Pictures.Nothing To Big, Nothing To Small. I Will Resize If Needed. No Ecchi/Sexual Pictures..:No Posting Order/Char.Limit. Just Don't Turn This Into A OnexOne. Give Everyone A Chance To Post..:PM All Skeletons To Me Titled, "End Of The World".:Post At Least Every Three Days. I Won't Put A Limit On This, But if You're Leaving, Please Message Me So I Can Kill You're Character Off. Gone Too Long, And You Will Die. Feel Free To Reapply Though..:Don't Travel Alone. You Have To Have Found At Least Two To Three People To Fight With..:This Is OOC..:Have Fun! :D
CHARACTER PROFILES AND SKELLIES
Name:First And Last/Middle Optional,
Crush/Lover:PM Me If You Have A Crush Throughout The Roleplay So I Can Update This On Your Character.
Occupation:Where Do You Work?/Student?
Weapon:Nothing To Extravagant. If It's A Gun Or Sword, Describe What It Looks Like Or Link A Picture.You Can Change You Weapon As The Roleplay Progresses
Specialty:Do You Specialize In Healing? Guns? Driving? Etc.
Financial Background:Rich,Middle Class,Poor
Likes:At Least Three.
Dislikes:At Least Three.
Short Bio:Doesn't Have To Be Long At All, But I Would Prefer At Least A Paragraph.Feel Free To Add Your Character's Personality In This Aswell.
Extra Information: Optional
Link To Profile:
Crush/Lover:No One At The Moment<3
Occupation:Model For ExoticFace Fashion Magazine/Artist
Weapon:A Wooden Cosplay Sword
Specialty:Specializes In Swords, But Has Yet To Find A Good One/Is Good At Close Range Combat.
Financial Background:Slightly Above Middle Class.
Likes:Ziitron is a fan of yuri manga and swords. He likes anything cute, Especially girls, candy and poetry.Some say Ziitron has an 'eye for beauty'.
Dislikes:Ziitron can't stand arrogant people and losing. He doesn't like any type of pie, anything ugly, bullies and snobby people. He absolutely hates being around foolish people who are too immature. Also, He hates people seeing him cry.
Short Bio:Ziitron was born without a mother. If Anything, he was a bit of a cry baby. His father was the total opposite and always tried to tell Ziitron to stop his crying. No matter what, his son wouldn't stop crying. After a few months of attempts, His father finally talked to him when he was about 8. He told him how wonderful his mother was, and his father started crying in front of him. Ever since, Ziitron promised himself to stop being so emotional. He wasn't sure why seeing his father cry made him stop, but he just couldn't cry anymore. His father and him started bonding more before Ziitron reached around 15, where he started modeling. They still tried to bond, but they eventually moved away from each other, Ziitron wanting to live closer to where he works. He soon found out that he was great at painting, and saved money from his modeling job to buy a somewhat large house and make his own art studio within it.
Ziitron is the type of guy who will be an ass at one moment, then try and make you smile because he feels bad. He can be a bit indecisive, but once he puts his mind to something, he won't stop. Him being a helpless romantic and believing in loyalty helps him to be a good friend and interesting to be around. Tries his best to stay levelheaded, cause when he's mad, he can get a little careless ....
Extra Information:Ziitron has a black and red tattoo on the right side of his body, stretching from his elbow to his waist. He also smokes and is a bit of a nerd when it comes to anime.
Crush/Lover:None at the moment.
Occupation:Previous body guard to the town's mayor; part-time shooting range instructor.
Weapon:Two handheld pistols.
Specialty:As an instructor, gun work is his specialty, even in close combat rangers where guns would usually be considered a bad choice of weapon.
Financial Background:Just below being rich;lived humbly.
Likes:Desmond enjoys quiet peaceful places, despite being constantly at the shooting range. He is a fan of ibuprofen, having a bottle on him at all times for his constant sound-headaches. He doesn't particularly care for cute things, and prefers a serious lifestyle.
Dislikes:Loud, unnecessary noises . Desmond very much hates sweets, preferring bitter or sour things. He also dislikes whiny, helpless people, and will often choose to leave them then to help them.
Short Bio:Being born into a very prosperous oil family, Desmond wished for nothing as a child. He didn't need friends, for he had the company of 'the help'. Soon, he developed an antisocial trait and began to dislike people off the bat, instead of giving them a chance to be themselves or warm up to him. He left his family at a young age of sixteen because of it. He moved into a more humble apartment and began training to be a cop, however took a different route. Working as a body guard from age seventeen to the present, he was very skilled in marksmanship and decent in hand to hand combat. However, he lacked the empathy or sympathy for his clients, and often would leave his post if he found them unfit to be guarded.
Clarix Will Monroe
Crush/Lover:N/A but liable for change~ ;3
Occupation:Part-time waitress, Voice Actress
Race:Half British, half French
Weapon:Steel circular tray and one kitchen knife.
Specialty:Aim, balance, memory, changing voice to deceive.
Likes:People that can get into an intelligent conversation of any kind with her, being impressed, having alone time be it with herself or someone she cares for, people that aren't just attractive but have a personality worth speaking to, and having a good time.
Dislikes:Being disappointed, people that trust too much, spicy things, and self-pity.
Short Bio:Clarix grew up in a pretty 'intense' family. She spent most of her school years staying the night at other people's houses or up in her room. She wouldn't eat with her family nor spend much time with them at all. Their home was pretty broken up what with broken mirrors, windows, cracked walls, and stained floors. Yelling was always heard and she was glad to move into a one bedroom apartment and start part-time work at a local restaurant. There, people heard when she would talk to herself or rant in different tones and pitches, and recommended she try voice acting. She did, and got her first job. It paid well, and got her into an apartment with a kitchen and living room.
She kept doing this, but as population decreased, so did her pay for each job. Eventually and quickly, her voice acting job stopped all together and her waitressing was pointless for only the few that came in. Now if only someone interesting would walk in.
Clarix is the type to be arrogant with a smirk and keep a sarcastic attitude. At the same time, she does her best to match the other person if need be. You really don't want to mess with her, because she isn't one to back down and will resist and make comebacks at a person as easily as she does breathing. Charming her is pretty hard to do, as well as impressing, and she only cares for those that put effort into becoming friends and such. She's actually pretty nice, if she likes you, and is quite protective of her friends and those she loves.
Extra Information:Clarix has some albinism in her, which causes her eyes to be red. She also isn't easily offended and is quite perceptive.
Rayna S. Channing
Occupation:Senior/Highschool, Part-Time job at Clothes Store in Mall
Weapon:Stolen pistol off a body of a dead friend, Matchbox...
Financial Background: Rich
Likes:Computers, People who give her attention, Her self.
Dislikes:People who think they are better than her, Things that don't work, Aftermath of an explosion
Short Bio:Rayna was born into a very wealth family, as an only child. She was spoiled as a child, and can tend to be a bit entitled. She lacks kindness and empathy, but she is a master at destruction. She likes being the smartest in the group at all times, and the ultimate leader/alpha. Having no conscience helps with her destructive personality. She was always the popular girl with all the friends, but she tended to find more interest in her extracurricular activities. Such as hacking sites and friends computers/going to neighboring towns and setting anonymous fires. She can be very hard to get through too, but it's possible.
Extra Information:Her recent boyfriend was killed by the zombies, pulling her into the fight. She is personally not much of a fighter, but she loves destruction and she wants to feel like she is helping.~Pretends to be innocent, helpless to her friends and everyone. Since apocalypse, acts herself.~
Weapon(s):An L96A1 bolt-action sniper rifle, A Colt 1911 pistol, and a metal baseball bat.
Specialties:Long range combat, overwatch , stealth, and scavenging
Financial background:Slightly above middle class
Likes:He's a little bit of a gun nut as his father was in the military, He gets extremely attached to people he's close to, and high places
Dislikes:He hates to be left alone in this world, he can't stand to see those he's close to die or get injured, and he hates the zombies, as they continuously takes away people he gets close to.
Bio:Aaron had grown up with a military father, who was a massive influence on him. He learned to shoot when he was very young, and is a crack shot. When the apocalypse hit, his father was killed within the first week, leaving him all alone, until he found other people, and decided to stick with them.
Ivory Melinda Ito
Race:Half Swedish, half Japanese
Weapon:A dagger she found in her brother's room
Specialty:She comes up with good strategic plans, knows how to fight close range and run fast
Financial Background:Middle class
Likes:Maybe surprisingly: singing. Hey, she's still a young teenage girl with dreams and ambitions. Which teenage girl doesn't want to be a singer at one point in their lives? Other than her often visiting the karaoke bar, Ivory likes spring, martial arts movies, almost everything that sparkles, cats and designing her own clothing.
Dislikes:People who are too full of themselves, retarded remarks, anyone who bothers her when she doesn't want to be bothered, unnecessary sacrifices and lies.
Short Bio:Ivory is the only daughter of two strange individuals. She isn't the only child though, her parents gave birth to her three brothers before she was born. The Ito family is known to collect all kinds of junk, changing what was once their house into a shithole. They aren't very loved by their fellow citizens, but she happens to be the least disliked. This being probably due to the fact that she's aiming to be a fashion designer, and many happened to adore her abnormal creations. Despite that, she isn't very good with people. She's a bit of a loner, even though she does have a handful of friends. The reason she chose a fashion design course was originally because she was tired of people saying she couldn't possibly be a girl. The girl did grow up with three brothers, so obviously she learned how to defend herself. She was forced to once tryout those skills on a few boys in middle school, and they got their asses kicked. Ever since her classmates often called her a boy. Her skills became rusty over the years though - her way of attempting to be more ladylike. She's someone who doesn't let her emotions get the best of her, has a strong sense of justice and tends to over-analyze things.
Extra Information:Given that her family collected junk, the young girl found herself unable to find anything useful in the house besides her brother's dagger. Her family was gone. Now she's determined to find them and hopefully other familiar faces.
Crush/Lover:None, infact, hasn't really thought about romance in quite some time
Occupation:Entrepreneur, runs some manga publishers.
Specialty:Sniping, and close range assassinations/melee.
Financial Background:In the upper middle class.
Likes:Peace and Quite, Having the security of knowing he can't be attacked from behind while sniping, Night sky, Rain and thunderstorms, Coffee.
Dislikes:Being too far from others, Know-it-alls, Being cold/Snow.
Short Bio:Tsukasa was an admirer of fights and anime, his father worked in the military as special forces while himself and his mom sat at home. Tsukasa got into plenty of fights but none voluntary, he always thought he had to protect everyone getting picked on by punching the bully in the face. He is quite in groups, but can be really opening during One on One interaction.
Extra Information:Once his father came back from military, he taught Tsukasa everything he could, being mentally scared by his serving time, Tsukasa was literally forced through brutal training to become a sniper, his father's Sniper being passed down to him.
Crush/Lover:None at the moment
Occupation:Cashier at a fast food restaurant.
Weapon:A serrated edge utility knife, with a black grip and a four inch blade. Can flip into the grip to reduce size.
Specialty:Being stealthy, finding things that other survivors wouldn't.
Financial Background:Dirt Poor
Likes:Being anywhere that it's dark. Scaring people in any sort of way. He loves to wear his hat, at all times, despite the weather outside.
Dislikes:Being around large groups of people . Wasting anything that might be useful. Bright places, and generally being loud, snobby, or just too happy.
Short Bio:Terry was raised in a dynamic environment. His father, a rather important officer in the militairy, provided well for his family, at least, at the start of Terry's life. His mother married his father simply for the success, and gave birth to two children, twins. As the children began to attend school, Terry's father began going on trips across the country quite a bit more than usual. Then, one day, Terry's mother received divorce papers, and an eviction notice. The family was forced out of their luxurious home, and moved to a tiny apartment in the poor part of town. The family got by on welfare, until the siblings grew old enough to work. Since then, Terry has been jumping between jobs, struggling to hold one down and support his lazy mother, and less than competent brother.
Terry is a very quiet individual. He lives in his own little world, preferring it immensely over reality. His experiences with people tend to be awkward fits of stuttering and embarrassment, even more so with women. He prefers to go it alone, however, he is also very intelligent, at least with street smarts, and knows that would only end in his own demise. He will attempt to distance himself from the group, hoping not to make any connections, not wanting to lose anyone. Regardless, if people make the effort, he may mutter a joke or two trying to lighten the mood.
Extra Information:Terry -always- has some sort of hat on. He is far more talkative in combat situations, and gets a bit too into it, a result of years of pent up anger and frustration.
Current Season: Summer/Early August
Time: Afternoon/Around 6:30
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This was not Talanta. Not the one Ziitron lived in. This was a living hell .... People eating people .... This was beyond hell. Ziitron inhaled deeply then exhaled, sighing in relief that he got away. He looked down at his hands, which were gripping his shoulder bag tightly. He let the strap go and relaxed a little, sighing a bit. Hunger clawed at his stomach earlier, but since the image of that lady's face repeated in his mind, his stomach has been churning. He winced a little then finally decided that his feet were strong enough to stand, and walked to the bathroom. Pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter, he took a stick out and set it in his mouth, then lit it, putting both the box and lighter back in his bag. Taking a long drag, Ziitron sighed and looked in the mirror, large strands of silver-gray hair in his face. "Maybe This Will Alllll Be Over By Morning ....." He muttered to himself, taking another inhale of smoke.
He ruffled his hair and sighed. Now he was hungry again ..... Ziitron took off his bag and sat it on the bathroom floor then took off his shirt and set it on top. He walked out of the bathroom, cigarette in mouth, and continued over to his balcony. His house was pretty big, especially for one person, but he enjoys throwing parties and he wouldn't like to throw large parties in a small, cramped up apartment with annoying neighbors that complain all day .... It just isn't worth the time. Sliding the large, glass door open, Ziitron sighed. He heard a car crash the instant he opened it, and smelled smoke from the few fires hat have begun not far from his home. He closed his eyes, then closed the door back. "This Is Bullshit." He muttered. As he turned around, a gunshot sounded from outside his house. Instantly, he thought of life. Someone else is out there .... Someone with a gun. A weapon. Sure, it was a bit risky to let a stranger come into his home, but right now he needed help .... Maybe they could explain ieverything to him ...
Quickly, yet quietly continuing downstairs, Ziitron grabbed a cosplay sword from one of his recent photo shoots and held it tightly in his hand, ready to slash a head off at any moment. He heard a knock at the door and crept up to it, looking through the peephole. A man stood outside, with black hair and .... His eyes looked normal. A wave of relief came through Ziitron and he let out a breath before giving him one more glance.
More were coming. More people with greenish-pale looking skin and messed up eyes where walking through the gate. Oh God .... He opened the door quickly and grabbed the man by his wrist, pulling him through the threshold. He closed the door back quickly and locked it, hearing the moans from outside. He turned and leaned on the door, looking at the man. "Hey ... Uhh ... Who Are You? Can You Speak?" He seemed perfectly normal ... Hopefully he won't bring that - infection ...- Into his home ... otherwise he'll have to use his lighter for something other than his cigarettes. He slightly glared at the man, having few doubts. It felt almost as if he was supposed to come here .... Like one of those cliche anime shows.
______ Grimacing down at the gun in its holster, Desmond shifting uncomfortably on his feet outside of the Mayor's office doors. There had been an odd spike in hospital visits lately, and the mayor was having a large meeting with other officials on the matter of the outbreak. Of course, Desmond was interested in such knowledge, but as a body guard he would receive little to none unless he was required to kill.______ Loud coughing emitted from the room, but the talking continued as if the man wasn't sickened. Which confused Desmond. If they were speaking of an outbreak, that meant any form of sickness should have been kept under control, and certainly not around any of Talanta's goverment officials. ______ Even though Desmond felt uneasy, he was on orders to not enter the room unless the situation were to be compromised.______ Leaning against the supporting beam of the doorframe, Desmond's eyes wandered off to a reception desk worker. She had tanned skin and blond hair, making her look extremely odd in office space clothing. She looked like she belonged out on the beach. She seemed as if she would be happier there. Her desk was as neat as could be, but he could see the many doodles and word games she had made for herself to pass time in their own little piles. Desmond wondered why the woman bothered to work there if she obviously didn't enjoy it.______ Desmond didn't bother to learn her name.______ A loud cry filled the almost silent halls of the Capital building. His hand already on the butt of his handgun, his eyes darting around, Desmond attempted to locate the cry. Shuffling of frantic feet and chairs falling over erupted from the meeting room behind him. The woman, the beautiful tanned woman, stood from her desk, eyes wide. She and Desmond eased towards the door. With a hesitant glance from the woman, and a colder, more confident one from Desmond, he drove his foot into the double doors.______ They popped and swung open with ease quickly. The room emitted an awful stench: a mix of sweat, piss, and fear. The windows were opened, men scrambling out of them, or getting caught. In the center of the room on the long, cherry wood table were two men. The chairs surrounded them, strung across the floor with personal belongings and paper accompanying them. The first man Desmond could see was the mayor, his back even recognizable to the trained guard. The mayor was hunched over the second man, growling and coughing in a beastly manner. The second man lay limp below him, blood spurting about the table.
_________________________________ "You've become compromised, sir."______ Desmond's voice echoed loudly over the ruckus that was building around him. The woman screamed and ran off down a hallway, where other such events seemed to be occuring and spilling into the halls. Frowning deeply at her fleeing, he prayed lowly that she be safe. ______ Without any other hesitation Desmond readied his pistol in an instant and whistled. The mayor's head whipped around grotesquely. Bloodshot eyes paired with a blood covered face stared down at Desmond. This was no longer the face of his friend, his boss, his Mayor. With a simple twitch of his finger, the man dropped to the table. Blood spurted from the exit wound in the mayor's forehead, spraying out over the self portrait that hung behind the table.______ Letting out a low sigh, Desmond turned on his heel to the chaos forming behind him. A man, with the same twisted face as his dead friend, came sprinting towards him. Collected and seemingly calm, Desmond raised his pistol and stopped the monster with the front of the gun. In a blink, the monster hit the floor, blood coating the paperwork of the tanned woman's desk.______ "Shame.. she worked hard on that." he mumbled, stepping over the body. It didn't take long, or many bullets, to make his way out to the front of the building. A grimace was stuck on Desmond's face. The city before him seemed to be falling to ruin, painfully slow. He could see that people down the streets and in shops were still acting normal. He assumed only the wing he hand be guarding of the capital building was in chaos. No one was fleeing from the other areas. But more cries and yelps began sounding in the square around him.______ Easing down the steps, his gun still in hand, Desmond thought to himself. Currently, he was rogue. In one sense, because he had killed a government official making him an enemy of the law. In another, because he currently didn't have anyone to guard or work for. ______ Thus the rogue walked.______ While most would go running for help or attempt a call to the police, Desmond felt no such need. He was practically a sociopath, so caring for others wasn't in his best interest. He figured he'd simply walk the streets of Talanta and shoot down any of the creatures he had seen.______ Not fifteen minutes after he started walking did he come up to a door being rapped angrily on by a woman. He whistled, catching her attention and drawing her away from the front of the house. Her eyes were rotting, and obviously less fresh than the mayor. With a low sigh, he put the gun to her forehead as she shuffled towards him, and ended her in her tracks. The gunshot sounded a bit louder than he had wanted in the small home-filled area, but it didn't really bother him that much. He had another gun and enough ammo on him to suffice for a day or two, at that rate.______ Curious to why the dead woman was rapping on the door, he moved towards the slightly blood stained frame and rang the doorbell twice. He stood with his back to a corner, eyes on the street and periphreals on the door. Whoever had entered the house must have been traumatized. A small glimmer of hope in him wished it was the tan woman's house.______ The rogue waited.
______ in case you are wondering, its Zitron's house I had him ring to.
Tsukasa was flicking his glasses to his hair, and then down to his eyes, in a repeated fashion whilist reviewing a not-yet-released manga. Tsukasa never needed glasses, he simply used them as a gag, telling people it made him feel more sophisticated as a joke. Scanning the book, he was making sure all text details were in line, no missing pages, correct imaging. All seemed fine nothing out of order, that was a strange occurrence these days.
Tsukasa left his office pleased with the writers and artist approving their effort and signing a contract to which made him liable for their product. He trusted this would be a hit though, if not one of the top ten new releases this year, perhaps with proper advertising it could be more than that, he had thought to himself while walking slowly past his friends still in seats conjuring up ideas and drawing up 'fan-service' pictures, one of with made his face go red to the slightest extent.
"Hey! Off so soon, so that means you approved them right? Tsukasa would have walked right past him if he wasn't in a aware state, drifting off into his own imagination. "Oh.. Well yes, I believe you should look into it really, if you want a copy of it is on my desk." he smiled reassuringly, Rin, who has been his highschool friend must've been rather excited about it because he vanished like wind and could be heard making a scene up the steps. Tsukasa only chuckled and left his work building, which towered over the ones near it, the company rather huge and successful.
It wasn't long before Tsukasa noticed that traffic had seized from usual busy district, it was calm, he enjoyed it actually, no one was around, and thus.. He closed his eyes, walking blindly, but guided by his usual path home, knowing twists and turns by memory alone. Well embarrassingly he did bump into a fence which made him open his eyes as he facepalmed himself rather hysterically. In fact he was so caught up on how he must've looked like an idiot that he didn't realize... The blood, dripping from the fence to which, now stained his face and hand. At first, he just felt numb, he never encountered this before, not once, he simply stood in silence as if fascinated instead of truly frightened. Untill...
A unrecognizable feeling, Tsukasa tried to think of what it was, he wanted to believe it was skin, but it certainly, wasn't just skin, something hard touched him aswell, moist, moldy, and hard. With reaction kicking in he thrusted his elbow behind him. Feeling a crack against the impact, he spun looking at a person..? No more like a thing, a thing that looked not so friendly. "What..?" was all he could mutter, his brain piecing together what this was, what was 'IT', yellow flesh and blood scattered against the ground, what he was touched with, was a mangled hand, bleach white bone was what poked his body, its fingers stripped of any and every skin cell. Tsukasa somewhat instinctively knew, this was no nice thing, that it was a threat, but could only say once more "What....?!"
The moan of what he thought was dead, made Tsukasa's skin shiver as he jumped back into the fence, before making a almost noiseless growl, the corpse reached for him but only got a kick to the face, whatever it was, it wasn't human, atleast, not anymore. He couldn't let affection get in the way of this monster, after kicking, Tsukasa could conclude that he certainly broke its neck, the corpse's head now spun in a 180 degree fashion. Fear took root, his instincts have vanished, and now he felt his fear, as more moans filled his ears, those.. Things, they were coming from what seemed to be everywhere, these were fresh though, not decaying, new bodies.. It didn't take long for him to realize he should run, thus he did, his house wasn't too far away, if he didn't stall he would already be there by now! He cursed his own dilly dallying.
After hearing screams from allies, seeing flesh ripped off of begging people, he finally reached home, he wanted to help, but the enormous amount of them.. There was just... No way, he could only turn his cheek and mourn for their lives, unfairly ripped away, he left them to die, unwantedly. He slumped down from his shut door, punching the ground "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" he yelled in rage, at himself he felt as if he was going to rampage his house, blinded in rage until a scream was heard even from his closed door. It was a schoolgirl running, only a few were chasing her surprisingly.. He thought endlessly, while the girl ran in slow-motion he kept thinking of ways to save her, until it hit him.
"The gun!" he said aloud, although no one would hear his head hatch an idea. He ran, full of adrenaline he found himself leaping up the stairs to which felt like a single step and launching into the closet of his bedroom. A weapon case stood there, dust n' all, he got the key from the top of the case and shakily unlocked it, pulling out the fully assembled gun and a magazine. While upstairs he opened his window, they were so far away by now, and the girl looked as if she was going to give out. He gasped for air and immediately put the sights on the corpses, at this angle, he had the perfect shot, he could hit each with one bullet. His heart beat at what seemed to be a heart attack rate to which he pulled the trigger, though he heard no noise he saw the two bodies fall, the girl however tripped, either startled by the gunshot or just perhaps her legs gave out just in time. Tsukasa's heart rate slowly fell, and so did he right on the floor, sucking up all the oxygen he could, it felt like he forgot how to breathe but he knew that he didn't.
It was only seconds before Tsukasa got up, but it felt like years. He came to a quick conclusion in his mind, he couldn't pass up another person in need of help, thus he had pulled out a marine sling, full of magazines, to which his dad use to wear, he attached a silencer to the barrel of his barret and quickly slung that over his shoulder aswell. He knew he was getting himself to a hell of a mess. But he felt he owed this to the now dead people of which he didn't save. Tsukasa climbed to his roof, and with no regards of how much ammo he spent, every person he saw in need, he silently assisted, not approaching one of his saved citizens, instead, he watched through the scope, as they looked dumbfounded of the randomly collapsing bodies and hurried away to their homes.. Tsukasa knew helping everyone was a foolish attempt, and a impossible one, but he damn near tried past his limitations, and not even that much time has passed, to think it was only thirty minutes until he saw car crash into buildings, people made dinner, and his hope be ripped to shreds, bullet by bullet wasted on trying to save someone.
It was far too foggy out today. Terry hadn't heard anything about weird weather on the news this morning, and up until a few minutes ago, it had been a rather normal day. The sound of grinding metal chains was the only real sound reverberating through the narrow rode. His silver sports bike sped through town, Terry's brown orbs occasionally catching the silhouette of someone here and there. It was certainly quiet, creepily quiet. "Maybe there was a terrorist attack or something?"
Terry brought a hand up to his face, pulling down his oddly colored beanie over his mop of blond hair. He made a sharp left down a side street, one he always made on his way back from work. A loud, raspy moan was Terry's only warning as a huge, bald man collided with his front tire. Terry sailed over the man, tumbling over the dark road. The bike bent inward, collapsing next to the seemingly unfazed man. The bald man sluggishly turned toward Terry's prone form, snapping his teeth rather loudly as he stalked toward the teenager.
"Hey, what the fuck man? That bike was like three hundred bucks!" The biker's eye twitched with rage, reaching back over his shoulder for his small backpack. He furrowed his brow, digging through the pockets, before feeling something familiar. "If you don't pay me for that right now, we're gonna have a problem." The boy hissed, twisting out a small black hilt from his pack. He quickly flipped open the silver blade, its serrate edge looking rather menacing.
The man, however didn't seem to care. He shambled over toward the boy, snapping his teeth violently. It almost looked like they'd shatter from the force of it. "I'm serious dude, you better pay for it." Terry mumbled, clearly deterred by the man's apparent indifference. Not to mention they were smack in the middle of suburbia. The boy shifted uncomfortably, waving the rather large survival knife in a threatening sort of way. "Hey, personal space. Back up."
The man's skin had turned a sickly pale green in the time of the little confrontation. He let a low moan escape his lips, swinging for Terry. The boy ducked under the slow moving mass of flesh, driving the blade of the knife into the man's lower armpit on instinct. Blood spurted freely from the man's wound, his artery surely punctured, but he didn't seem to care. Terry yelped in surprise, yanking his crude little weapon away, jumping back a meter in fear. "H-hey...sorry...accident, the bike is okay you ca-....what's wrong with you?" The boy stuttered, staring at the bout of crimson liquid spurting from under the man's arm.
The bald man uttered an inhuman squeal, lunging for Terry. The boy quickly turned tail, hauling himself away from the crazy, bleeding bald guy as fast as his legs could take him. The familiar moaning creeped out from either side of him, and he moved into the middle of the road. He clumsily closed his only weapon, slipping it into his front pocket. What the hell was wrong with that guy?
Terry kept up a dead sprint, every time he began to slow down, one of the moans or shrieks would spike up his adrenaline once more. Silently, he cursed his fat, lazy mother for never helping him buy a cell phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a rather huge tree. Perfectly climbable. "I'll just hang out there until the police come...yeah." He mumbled to himself, striding over to the ancient pillar of nature. Shifting his gaze either way, catching some of the shambling people a few meters away, he shot up the tree. Almost completely silent, he swung himself up the leafy branches, finding himself a decent perch near the top.
The boy shifted his gaze in every direction, the fog handicapping his vision to only a few meters. He sighed, relaxing a bit from the swaying of the tree. "Damian probably just slipped some more crazy pills into my drink again...I just need to sit here until it wears off, or the police turn up...whichever,"
After drying off her hands, Clarix tossed the hand towel onto the counter beside the sink. Turning around, she faced the person that was behind her with crossed arms as she leaned back against the counter.
"You know, I really do question if people eat their food or inhale it. The more dishes I see, the more I notice the lack of crumbs and such, not that I'm complaining." The woman she spoke to laughed and with a smile said, "At least that means they like the food, or so I would hope." A bit of water beaded at her eyes. She'd been tearing up from the onions she was cutting. Clarix wasn't effected by the onions, though she had to admit their taste wasn't half bad.
"Hey, shouldn't you be going soon? Said you had some plans, right?"
"Yeah, big plans actually. I probably should head out." The blonde pushed herself off the counter and pulled out the hair tie that had been holding back her long, straight hair.
"Got yourself a guy or something~?" The female cook asked with a wink. Clarix let out a small laugh before saying, "Do you actually think there is a guy gutsy enough to try dating me? Ha, not in a million years. In fact, the only guys that probably could are taken, gay, or fictional characters." Both girls laughed, the older one insisting that maybe it was the girl's eyes that scared them off.
"In which case, I'd like to keep it that way. If my eyes scare them, that's their problem. Besides, wimps like that aren't my style."
"And just what is?" She rose an eyebrow, as if saying that the answer was nonexistent. "I'm not sure there is one. Not yet anyways."
The two gossiped for a bit as the older adult finished cutting up food for them to use the next day. Clarix had perched on the counter beside her, finding it to be comfortable, accidentally hitting her head on the cabinets behind her whenever she'd laugh to hard. Once they were done, time had passed and Clarix needed to hurry to get to where she was going. Picking up her bag off the floor, she slung it over her shoulder and held onto the strap of the messenger bag.
"So just where are you going anyways?"
"Believe it or not, I got a lead part in the VA business. I had better hurry and not screw this up." The other woman cheered her on as she ran out. This restaurant was like home to Clarix. Well, a home without a place to sleep besides the booths whenever the place was closed. Sometimes she'd even stay overnight there, preferring it over her own home.
As she was running to get to the bus, she noticed the fog. Something was really odd about it. Fog was one thing, but the eerie silence sent a chill up her spine. She even slowed her run, starting to become a bit worried. She wasn't quite sure what for though. There was nothing there.
Making it to the bus stop, she heard a loud screech like the bus coming to an abrupt stop. Looking through the fog with ease, she didn't see any vehicle. Nothing was there.
"Hm...What the hell was that then..?" Looking to both sides of her and of course in front of her, she saw nothing. That was when she turned around and saw someone else standing there with her.
This made her flinch and laugh a bit at having been scared at all. "Jeez, you kinda scared me there." Most people would laugh in reaction, though this person kept silent. Their black hair was tousled and they gave her an odd feeling. "You alright, sir? You look a bit..um..ill..no offense or anything." The person still didn't answer. Looking down, she noticed they had hold of the metal trash can.
That must've been what made that sound... Looking to the person's face, she noticed their mouth hanging open a bit. Their breathing seemed shaky and they wouldn't breath through their nose. It seemed that their throat was too thin, and she could see the veins in their face. There was no way this person was old enough to have this kind of skin. They actually looked not too much older than herself.
"Sir..?" She went to touch his shoulder, but the moment she did, she pulled her hand away.
What. The. Hell!?
When she had sat her hand on his shoulder, it felt as though the bone sank down, like his arm was starting to dislocate or even fall off. But that wasn't possible. Not for a person that didn't seem to be in pain. Shouldn't they be in the hospital for that? They were dressed normally in jeans and a t-shirt though. Nothing was really odd about them except...well..them. From further away, he would probably look normal, but from here, Clarix didn't see any ordinary person.
"Sir, I think you need to go to the hosp-Ah!" Jumping away, she only just dodged the hit of a heavy and rusty trash can. "H-Hey, I'm only trying to help you." They managed to swing it at her again and she backed up into the road.
Why hadn't the bus arrived yet?
He went to swing again, but before he could, something happened. Clarix's red eyes widened as she saw his arm fall off entirely, bits of flesh trying to hold on, but the weight pulling them apart. Blood splattered on the ground where it fell and the red continued to drip from his arm as he grabbed the garbage can again with the only arm he still had, wildly swinging it at her, trash flying out onto the ground. Quickly, Clarix began to run down the road. She went off the road on onto the sidewalk that was across the street.
What the hell was that thing?
Taking a turn, she made her way back to the cafe. It seemed to be locked, but she knew the code and got inside, locking it from inside. She definitely felt safer now.
Going to a booth, she sat her bag down as she panted for breath. The girl took out her phone and texted one of her friends at the studio that something just happened and she couldn't make it. See, this person usually texted back quickly. Talking to someone might actually help.
For over ten minutes, there was no response.
Clarix watched out the window, worried. She had no idea what was going on and was trying to figure it out, but that was just crazy. She'd never seen anything like that before. The concept itself was odd, and if she told anyone, she'd probably be sent to an asylum.
Then there was a bang at the door.
Getting up cautiously, she looked through the glass and saw the one from before, but with someone else also. They seemed just as grotesque.
Another joined them.
Scared, she ran back and into the kitchen then grabbed one of the kitchen knives. The one that her friend had used earlier actually to cut up vegetables. Looking out the door again, she saw them starting to run their hands on the glass as if they wanted inside. She didn't want to, but she needed to get out eventually. Maybe the back?
Going to the back door, Clarix left with the knife and a tray she had picked up. She'd used that tray once before to hit a customer in the head whenever they grabbed at where they shouldn't, even though she did get in trouble for it.
She ran as quickly as she could, making it back to her home. No one was around, although that was usual. She did live alone after all. The odd part? She couldn't get the door open no matter how hard she tried. Looking over, she noticed something that she hadn't before. There was a window broken. It hadn't caught her eye when she passed it, but now, it was the one thing she really payed attention to. As she looked through it, Clarix saw a familiar face rummaging through her apartment. It was her neighbor, but why were they there?
Before she could knock out all the glass using her tray, the person turned and faced her. Her hair was stuck to her face and seemed to be shedding all over the floor. She was just as terrible looking as the man before, though was missing one eye. Terrified of the sight, Clarix abandoned all and ran away. She had no idea what to do, but she just decided that she would keep on running until she couldn't.
Eventually, her stamina ran out, and Clarix stopped, panting for breath and sitting against a wall near the door of an old antiques store. "Whatever the hell all that was...I'm definitely not going back there...
Getting off at her usual bus stop, eighteen year old Ivory’s high heels touched concrete again. She was quite the sight in a small town like Talanta; a town where everything was familiar. It wasn’t like she knew everyone by name, but she could tell whether they were citizens or not. That same familiarity might’ve been the reason that she decided to attend university elsewhere, somewhere where no one would ask her: “oh, aren’t you part of the Ito family?” Correct, but old news. It was unknown to her why those people still bothered to ask, they already knew the answer anyway.
Sighing, Ivory took slow steps towards her home. It would’ve been cosy if her family wasn’t full of collectors. Her parents were still inseparable after years of being together, and they ran their own convenience store. Everything they didn’t sell was often taken back home, proving that a lot of small pieces of junk could easily fill up a big room. Her brothers Sebastian, Kane, and Youji weren’t that much different from her folks. They seemed quite satisfied the way things were, making her question who the crazy one was sometimes. Her brother Youji often argued that she looked weird, so she was just as weird as they were. Granted, she did look a bit weird, but she would describe her a style as a mixture between Lolita and Gothic. Youji said he never even heard of those terms.
Noticing that she was close to her house already, Ivory sped up a little, careful not to trip because of her shoes. The roads in Talanta weren’t made for heels, sneakers would’ve probably been more comfortable. But hey, those just didn’t match her outfit. Looking up once again, the half Japanese female spotted a figure coming towards her. It was a man, probably around the same age of her father, yet something seemed off about him. He looked a bit like her neighbor, a widowed man going by the name of Salazar. Mister Salazar came from Spain a few years ago, and her brother Sebastian would often ask him to teach him some words. She was convinced that he never pronounced them right, but didn’t want to ruin her brother’s happiness.
“Mister Salazar?” she asked, pretty convinced that it was him after all. He didn’t reply to her question, just kept on approaching silently. It was slightly foggy, so she couldn’t see him too clearly. It made her stop walking, waiting for the individual to come close enough.
Finally she could see that it was mister Salazar, but it also wasn’t him. He leaped towards her, making her react quickly and dodge, falling to the ground. ‘This is a dream, it must be.’ Mister Salazar recovered soon, his lifeless eyes piercing right through her. Ivory realized that he was ready to attack again, so she took off both of her shoes and stood up. It was time to run for it.
Obviously that thing, or whatever it was, followed her. She threw her beautiful shoes as hard as could, hoping to hit the man’s head. Apparently she succeeded once, because she could hear him growl. The door to her house wasn’t locked when she arrived, and Ivory used her key to do so. She no longer heard mister Salazar, but something told her that he wasn’t going to leave her alone.
“Mom, dad!” she yelled, hoping for a positive response. “Sebastian, Kane, Youji!” No response again. The house was a mess, it always was, so it offered no insight as to whether something happened. Yet it was clear that she was alone. There was some food left on the table, but that was about it. Entering Kane’s room, the teenager used the opportunity to take a peek out of the window, shocked to see that mister Salazar wasn’t the only one in her garden. With him were two others, and she could tell that they weren’t having a friendly chat. Spurting through her brother’s room, all she found was a dagger under his bed. It seemed to be in good condition, and she wondered why the hell Kane would own such a thing. Her parents surely wouldn’t approve of that.
That aside, she had no idea what was going on. All she knew was that she had to find her family before mister Salazar and his friends did. Maybe grab another pair of shoes while she was at it.
Giggles could be heard all around the house, and anything else. You could be in a bathroom downstairs with the door closed, and what you heard that sounded as clear as day would be found upstairs in a room. Point is, you can hear everything in that house.
It was really a bother.
Rayna was laughing as she lied on her bed, her auburn hair messily pulled into a loose bun. She sat up, and her eyes lit up when she saw her boyfriend trying to "sneak" up on her.
They were a cute couple. But everyone knew it wouldn't last. One could not tell Rayna or her boyfriend exactly why it wouldn't work. It wasn't that they didn't know, they were scared. Rayna was that mean girl at school who acted all innocent, but unleashed her true self when she was hurt. Or stood up too.
Rayna grabbed her boyfriend's arm and pulled herself up.
"Y'know, we could go to the movies or something?"
Rayna sighed and crossed her arms. "You know I can't, I'm grounded."
Then she added, because she knew he would ask, "Yes, they know you're here. But only my dad's home, and he doesn't care. He just doesn't want me to leave..." she blew her bangs out of her face.
Suddenly, he smirked. "Well, I do know what we can do. Mayb-"
He was cut off by glass breaking downstairs. Not just the occasional shatter of a fallen plate. This was much bigger.
A male yelled out downstairs and then he screamed, "DON'T COME DOWNSTAIRS RAYNA! LOCK YOUR DOORS"
Rayna's eyes widened, and she ran to her door quickly locking it.
Kainen tried to make a joke how maybe her dad was involved with the mafia or something.
Rayna pushed him aside and grabbed her matchbox hidden underneath her bed
Kainen frowned, "What's that supposed to do?"
She didn't answer, just grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her windows.
"Open that up, I'm going to pack some stuff. I don't know what'll happen to my house."
Grabbing a backpack, she stuffed the cookie bag they had been sharing, an extra matchbox, her phone, her car keys, her iPad, and some cables into it. Unfortunately, she could not shove her computer and it's equipment into the backpack as well.
As she was doing this, footsteps started shuffling up the stairs slowly. Rayna cursed and wondered what in the world would walk that slow to kill somebody. I mean, they know I can escape right?!
Rayna jumped up quickly, grabbing her backpack, and pushed herself out her window and onto the roof. Bang...Thud...Bang...
They were trying to knock down her door. She looked frantically at Kainen. He just shrugged and climbed out with her.
Desperately looking for an easy way down, she climbed over to the other side of her house. Below, lay a hedge, a driveway, and then the empty streets. Fog was rolling around, making the scene even more scary.
Dropping onto the hedge , she made a run for it, almost forgetting about Kainen. Well, not almost. She did.
Around the street, thick in the air, was this moaning sound. She didn't put much thought to it though, didn't really notice it. She ran past a few people seeming as if they were in a daze, and she didn't stop to look at them.
Rayna reached the school, and then saw her car parked there. She was planning to sneak out that night, and her car had to be away from the house.
She jumped into it, shoved the keys in, and locked all the doors. And that's when she realized who she was missing...
I guess I'll drive around for him. I can't stay in this town though...
6:26 PM Midtown August 5th
Allie's Tattoo Shop
Slightly Foggy, Warm Temp.
"Hey Al .... You Finished Yet?" A deep, smooth voice sounded from the front of the shop. Lights buzzed as the small, yet roomy tattoo shop was cleaned for closing. A tall, slim woman with bronze skin and bright eyes wrote quickly in a log, her pen not stopping fr a second. "Yea Yea ... I'm Gettin There ..." She muttered, not taking her eyes off the paper. "Hurry it up ... Will ya? I gotta finish these two paintings before twelve ... " Ziitron muttered, his dark grey hair tousled on his head. He sat back in a chair, shirtless, with a loose pair of black jeans on. He sighed, looking through his phone. "If you're in such a rush, why don't you just leave ...?" Allie said back, rolling her eyes smiling. "Oh please ... I can wait for you babe ... And plus, you promised to have fun with me tonight." He smirked, looking up at her. She blushed, rolling her eyes again. "Whatever ..." She looked back down and scribbled some stuff on the log.
Sighing, Ziitron finally stood. Cleaning took strangely a long time today, and he couldn't wait any longer. "Hey Al ... I'll talk to you tomorrow ... Be safe, Alright?" The girl looked up and pouted, then nodded. "Same to you ... Sorry we can't have any fun tonight." She said, a broom in her hand. "It's Alright ... We'll have even more fun tomorrow." Ziitron said to her and smirked, chuckling. She blushed and shrugged him off, giggling. "Oh Whatever ..." Ziitron put on a sleeveless hoodie and grabbed his bag, putting it across his chest then waving at everyone in the shop before letting himself out.
The fog had lit up a little, you could see the streets clearer. Ziitron frowned. Dammit ... I forgot I walked here ... Guess I could stretch my legs a little ... He thought then sighed. He'd been taking pictures all day at his photo shoot, and then he had to help out here. And the walk from the studio to Allie's tattoo shop can be hell. His house wasn't too far from here, unless the fog thickens up again .... "Welp ... Better Get A Move On ..." Ziitron continued forward, towards the city.
It's Sure Is Hella Quiet Out Here .... Talanta was a usually quiet city, but today was different .... Like an eerily quiet. No one was driving in the streets, no kids laughing, no peppy walkers that wave and smile as they pass by. This was waaaay too quiet. Humming a tune, Ziitron started to walk a bit faster. He heard a loud, but low moan coming from behind him and stopped. What The Hell Was That?! He wanted to turn around, but something told him not to. Another moan. .... Don't Turn Around ... Don't Turn Around .... He gripped his bag. Someone was behind him ... He could hear the shuffle of feet slowly walking forward. He inhaled and started walking again, quieter but faster. Eventually, Ziitron was running toward his house, which was now up the street. He couldn't see anyone in the streets, but he heard moans coming from everywhere. Not the sexy moans, the horrifically tired and slow moans you get when you don't want to wake up early but you have to anyways. The silver-haired male glanced back, wondering if whoever that was behind him and followed him home. There was no one, but before he could take another step, he fell backwards.
"O-Oh! My Bad .... " Ziitron muttered, realizing that he bumped into someone .... A woman with dark hair and dead green eyes. She slumped over, drooling. Her skin was a greenish pale, and looked as if it hadn't been washed in months. Not waiting for a reply, Ziitron stood. He had a slightly worried look on his face."Ma'am ..? Are You Alright ...?" He came a bit closer to her, trying to see her better. The fog was coming back .... The lady moaned dryly. Ziitron looked at her and blinking. She Must Be Sick ..... "Y-You Don't Sound Too Good ...." He said to her, grabbing her shoulders. She leaned toward him a little, looking dead. Another moan. "L-Let Me Call 9-1-1 For Y--" A cold hand had covered his, and he looked up. Ziitron's stomach churned and he covered his mouth quickly. The lady was looking up at him ... Her eyes were gone. Nothing but empty sockets. Her cheekbones were outlined, she looked dead. and yet she was walking. Ziitron backed up a little. "Wh ... What The Fuck Happened To You?!" He said, letting go of her shoulder. He started breathing heavy, and jumped when the woman lurched forward and growled, then snapping her teeth together. She was trying to bite him! A bit in shook, the male blinked then shook his head. He backed away some more and then suddenly, started to run towards his house. This Shit Is Unbelievable .... She Looked Just Like That Dead Zombie Girl From That Movie .... What The Hell ...??!!?! Finally making it to the door, he grabbed his keys from the bag and fumbled with them, hearing more footsteps. HURRY UP DAMMIT ... He opened the black painted door after struggling with getting the key in the door and walked in quickly, breathing fast. Not really paying attention to what he was doing, he left the door unlocked and dropped his keys and bag on the floor, running upstairs. Ziitron went into his room and sat on the floor, not believing at all what he saw. Her eyes were gone. She was decaying .... Whatever was wrong with that girl .... Whatever disease she had was unnatural ... And it was scary.
Sorry For Such The Wait. Too Much Has Been Happening In One Month ... But I Will Be Posting Today! Again, I'm So Sorry For The Long Wait ... If You Have Any Questions, PM Me Or Post It In The Ooc. Thanks Guys.<3
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.