[center [pic http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk97/Starfish711/neverends1.gif ] ]
[center [b [i [Zilla+Slab What happens when the dead starts rising? Well, some bloodshed and chaos of course. Oh, did I say some? I meant a shit ton. Yup, a shit ton of death and destruction, ladies and gents. ] ] ] ]
[center [Zilla+Slab Welcome to the city of LunaVale, population of roughly fifty thousand. LunaVale is known for its booming economy and lavish lifestyles... Well, on half of the city. On the other side of the city, it is known for being decrepit and full of the poor. It's also a hotbed for criminal activity. Can you say home sweet home?] ]
[center [Zilla+Slab Well now home is full of zombies that just love cracking heads open and devouring brains for breakfast. While the poor must fend for themselves with what little they have, the rich sit protected by a large gate that surrounds their entire area. No one goes in and getting out is nearly impossible due to police officers standing at every exit day and night. Only a few people are daring and kind enough to slip food and supplies to people outside. ] ]
[center [Zilla+Slab [b IT'S A ZOMBIE APOCOLYPSE and the city is divided. One-half rich, the other poor. The poor side is full of gangs that steal from each other and hurt innocents for fun. People are desperately trying to get to the rich side of the city so they won't have to be stuck in the middle of the gangs and zombies, but this is no easy task, especially since the rich won't let anyone in.] ] ]
I am terrible at writing descriptions so I apologize. ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab Animated/Drawn pictures only. ] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab Each post should be above 1,500+ characters. ] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab This is a mature RP, it will include: cursing, drug use, violence and more. If this triggers anything then this isn't the RP for you. ] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab No cybering, obviously. It will be time-skipped. ] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab Time skips must be discussed with everyone. ] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab If you are going to leave, tell me. ] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab Romance is allowed. ] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab Posting order will be established once everyone has posted once.] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab LunaVale is a city in Canada. It is currently summer in the RP. ] ] ]
[center [b [Zilla+Slab Fill out the skeleton that I made and send it to me if you are interested. ] ] ]
[center [pic http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk97/Starfish711/746db8c4-a00d-45b5-929c-3d05e0cb6155.png ] ]
Personality | Shrewd, aloof and a tad bit cocky. She can come across as opinionated and is not great with first impressions. Anita is also impulsive, doing what she wants even at the expense of others.
Extra Info | She is skilled in combat and knows how to use a gun however she prefers to use a crossbow and a large machete for close combat. Her past is unknown to even her closest friends. ] ]
[center [pic http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk97/Starfish711/de1488db-3b41-40ea-b8bc-e5d29e0a894c.jpg ] ]
Personality | Venomous and aggressive and that's just the tip of the iceberg. To make matters worse he's also brutal, dishonest and demanding, but in an odd way, they're balanced by habits of being hardworking as well. But focus on his as this is what he's notorious. Even careful encounters have been ruined because of this and his laziness, which is unfortunate in and of itself. Jet has better sides too. He's focused and enthusiastic among others, that's at least some form of redemption.
Extra Info | Jet grew up in the Slums where he became pretty much a drug lord. He wears a oni mask so he can run through the streets without anyone knowing who he is. He also carries two twin katanas to silently kill the Zombies so others won't get attracted to them. ] ]
[center [pic http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk97/Starfish711/7aa5795c-51ea-42a9-9d40-ddf1048e0e77.png ] ]
Personality | Kind, cheerful, friendly. Regardless of the things she has gone through. She can be sympathetic, for she survived long before a Zombie apocalypse. In her late teens, The people who she called her parents would always treat her like a waste of existence. Her only saving grace, was her placement in life, she entered grad school at the age of seventeen and went to practice medicine. Later becoming a doctor. then when the dead rose up and fed on the living she used her abilities in helping others: putting them before her.
Extra Info | She's a doctor. Isn't very combative. But can kill zombies if needed. ]
[center [pic http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk97/Starfish711/8028ebef-fd9a-4af4-9200-bd4176e92a22.jpg ] ]
Personality | Quick to act, defensive of those he cares for to a fault. Will fight tooth and nail to protect himself or those he claims as his own. Resourceful, strategic, a born leader. Efficient in every sense of the word. Doesn't smile often but when he does it is the brightest thing for miles.
Extra Info | Engaged in gang warfare in order to help alleviate the costs of raising his small sister after the deaths of his parents. She was killed as the result of gang violence and Oliver left that life behind him. Always strapped with two concealed handguns and a long Ka-Bar knife for close quarters combat. ]
[center [pic http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk97/Starfish711/11803f41-fa73-4c9c-a21d-45b91e2361ba.jpg ] ]
Personality | Dianne focuses on the long term instead of hers and others desires that are short term passions. She manipulates situations to benefit her and her loved ones, but would not hesitate to leave people behind to save herself or her friends. Dianne’s greatest attributes are self reliance and perseverance.
Extra Info | Worked hard her entire life, only to see everything she loved burned to the ground, quite literally. Has basic medic knowledge, but don’t depend your life on her. Dianne has never participated in sports or been popular in school. But she migrated to the regrets and potheads throughout life and tended to end up in fist fights with local assholes always supported by her childhood friend and sidekick Anita Sawyer. ]
[center [pic http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk97/Starfish711/b0e96a1b-3238-446a-a0a8-696f079db639.png ] ]
Personality | Owen, or O for short, is a long standing delinquent and a grade-A weirdo. He isn't a bad guy, and the majority of his violent tendencies don't extend to people, but he's rowdy and prone to vandalism and all manner of stealing, apocalypse or not. O is very curious and nosey and will put this insatiable wanderlust at the vanguard of all his priorities, and as such, he's the perfect scout and meat shield and arguably the WORST with boundaries and personal space. He's not the most literate kid in class and he's got a bit of a chip on his shoulder, but despite his extensive record, he's very protective of others and is good, humorous company to keep.
Extra Info | O is no slouch. He's been busting asses for 11 years now and prefers to bludgeon heads rather than shoot. He can use guns and knives just fine, but favors clubbing things. Some of his past charges WERE assault and battery and maybe most recently a manslaughter, but we can just... Let them slide. <3 Carries a bat and keeps a glock with spare ammo tucked into the back of his pants. Owen is gigantic and towers over most other people. ]
[center [i Fuck. ]
Slowly being surrounded by the undead left Dianne with no other choice but to hightail it out of the house. Slithering out of the window onto the terrace, she silently moved up the ladder on the side of the house to the roof.
Halfway up the ladder Dianne lost her grip, falling back down onto the small terrace. Black spots surrounded her vision as she laid down her head on the metal bars.
[i You have to get up, Anita is counting on you.... You can't fucking give up....]
When D woke from her sudden blackout she took note of her surroundings.
Five zombies were stumbling around the entrance of the back alley, another 2 were standing directly underneath, reaching their mutilated fingers up towards her.
[i I could go on the roof, but I would risk stumbling again... and considering how shitty I feel now, I don't think I should try to do that. God... considering out far up I was, I am lucky I even made it back onto here. ]
Crawling back into the house, Dianne started to hear the undead roaming in the downstairs rooms.
[i Thank god I remembered to move the couch and bookcase in front of the stairs, that will give me some time to wait for Anita. ]
[i But I don't know how much longer I can last... ]
As she laid on the floor in the upper bedroom, staying quiet she covered herself with a blanket to muffle her breathing and constantly pinched herself. Dianne had to keep herself conscious because it was more than likely she suffered a concussion from her fall on the ladder. Dianne's worst fears came to surface as she waited later in the day for her friend.
She worried that the only person she had left in the whole world could be gone too, or that she may be gone when Anita came back to her.
Oliver once again pushed his neighbors to the back of his mind as he backed the truck out of his driveway, driving around and out of the cul-de-sac and crushing a fallen undead on his way out off of the street. He glanced in his rearview mirror, inspecting his house as it shrank and ultimately disappeared from his view. He wasn't concerned about anyone or any other home but his own.
He reentered the greater city, his eyes peeled on the horizon for any small grocery store, pharmacy, or sporting goods shop that may hold items of value to him. He noticed a locally owned pharmacy squeezed away between two office buildings and grinned. Luck may have been on his side after all.
He slammed his truck door and tugged a pair of aviator sunglasses wrapped in a red bandana from his coat pocket. He unrolled the glasses and slid them over his eyes, tying the bandana around the lower half of his face. He wasn't extremely worried about any would-be enemies recognizing him, he just didn't want an accurate description of himself spread to any gang higher-ups. He had been the target of gang bounties before, one of these costing his younger sister her life. He flinched subconsciously, remembering Charlotte. Her blonde hair had been beautiful, an oddity among his family of brunettes. His father had been Japanese and his mom Canadian, but dark hair was par for the course for both of their family lines. Jokes were made between his mom and father that Charlotte hadn't really been his, but Oliver never dived too deep into it. Well, until his dad vanished, that is...
Oliver forced his way into the backdoor of the pharmacy with a crow bar, sliding it back into his duffel bag and drawing a flashlight, switching it on. He grinned behind the fabric of his bandana. The shelves had been gone through, but not thoroughly in the least.
He hit the medicinal aisles first, dropping a plethora of pain killers and stomach medicine into his bag before grabbing some sleeping pills and various bandages. He came to a halt in front of the Family Planning section, his eyes falling on the assorted boxes of condoms. He felt his cheeks turn hot and he mentally kicked himself. He had no use for things of this sort. He was still a virgin; his time had been so split between raising and caring for Charlotte and his gang work that he had no time to spend with any women. He dropped out of school early, and any girls brought into the gang HQ were the boss's or rewards for one of the other higher-ups. He fell in love pretty easy; any nice girl who offered sympathy and a caring smile brought with them daydreams that lasted for weeks of a potential life they could start together, just him and her and Charlotte. He looked over the boxes again, hesitated, and then reached out and grabbed one, shamefully dropping it in his duffel bag and hurrying off of the aisle. He knew he would never need these, but he still had that foolish youthful hope that one day he'd meet someone. [i Stupid. I'm so stupid.]
He neared the canned foods aisle but the shattering of glass caused him to freeze in his tracks. His hand flew to his side, yanking the pistol from the holster and crouching as loud laughs joined the otherwise overwhelming silence of the pharmacy.
[b "We know you're in here!"] A brash voice called. [b "Your truck is parked outside, you fucking idiot. Come on out!"]
Oliver bit his lower lip, waiting quietly.
[b "It's gonna be a lot worse if we have to come after you, you know!"] The man cackled, and Oliver heard him sigh. [b "Suit yourself."] The man whispered some words, and Oliver knew immediately what they were. [i Commands.]
He waited, silent, as a set of footsteps tread nearer, turning up the aisle next to him. Oliver grinned. These guys were trying to sneak around him. A heavier set of footsteps walked in a straight line across the front of the store, and Oliver guessed they intended to cut him off at the front while the sneaky guy came around behind him. Oliver sucked in a breath. There were always more than one way out of a situation.
He threw his entire frame into the shelving units next to him, leaning against it as the structure tipped completely over. He heard the beginnings of a scream before he and the entire unit crashed down onto the man who had been unprepared for such an assault. Oliver shot his attention up to see two men armed with different makeshift melee weapons, one a pipe and the other some sort of bludgeon. He raised his gun quickly, squeezing the trigger once, twice, three times, four. The first bullet hit Pipe-guy square in the chest, causing him to stumble back into a rack of sunglasses. The cheap plastic frames scattered across the ground and the man fell to the ground, unmoving. The second bullet hit Bludgeon in the right shoulder, and he began to surge forward before the third bullet hit him in the throat- the kill shot. Blood spurted over out of his neck and down his front and his hands clawed for the wound in vain, as if he could stick his throat back together with only the shredded muscle and tissue. The fourth bullet caught him in the thigh for good measure, bringing a fresh surge of blood and dropping him to his knees before he slumped over, his hands never leaving his throat.
Oliver pushed himself up, rolling his left shoulder. It ached, but nothing unusual for man who had barged into a metal shelving unit. Something wasn't quite at peace; he could still hear shallow breathing. Oliver walked forward, gun raised, and rounded the corner to see the man who had been talking to him. He had purple liberty spikes and a sleeveless denim jacket, chains hanging from shredded carpenter pants. Oliver pointed his gun for the man's forehead, and tears brimmed in the gang member's eyes.
[b "P-Please..."] He blubbered, [b "...you don't want to do this."]
[b "Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?"] Oliver stood still, his hands not shaking a bit.
[b "Y-You would have shot me already."] The man smiled. A sharp smell brought Oliver's attention to the front of the man's pants. Wet.
[b "You're right."] Oliver said, his finger squeezing the trigger before the second word had even left his mouth. The back of the man's head blew out and his last expression was one of baffled relief. Oliver shook his head, sliding his pistol back into its holster and crouching to check the man for supplies. [i Pathetic.]
Jet purred from all the new excitement he walked into he thought it was priceless he had startled the woman in school girl clothing his hand put his on her machete before she had put it away cutting his thumb he licked the blood away. [b “Nice and sharp just like they should be. Maybe just one time I can allow this foursome once this shit is fucking over I wouldn’t mind you two.”] He laughed his eyes glued to the silver haired male his features seemed younger than his but then again, he has been stressed with being a drug lord of the slums after all.
Jet looked at the Doc and smiled a bit. [b “Then don’t dirty those pretty little hands let the big boys deal with the undead. Don’t want you to get scared for life killing people who once were just like you and i.”] The black-haired male took his his oni mask off holding it in his hand. He heard the undead starting to come for the door. [b “Oh I forgot to mention the undead probably smelt me while I was out there and….”] He stopped hearing the hum of a car before the lights flickered and finally blew out.
[b “Oh im so scared… Wont you hold me. Just kidding let’s take the roof we will be safe going out the way two of us came through I bet any time that door will be knocked down and a horde of them will take over. Where do you think that friend of yours will be I think I can make it to my warehouse to get morphine in a bag. Our Doctor will be needing it won’t she, oh I should probably call her by her name calling her doc would cause some unwanted attention and I think im done with that attention for now.”] Jet pulled out one of his sword cutting open his hand marking the door with it before letting it drip on the floor.
[b “Ill be up there once everyone has made it on the roof this blood will have them searching down here for a while. Its fun to watch them squirm for their next meal.”] The male looked around the room finding a old blanket ripping only a big enough piece to wrap up his hand he would have the woman take a look at it when they got somewhere safe. Least he cut his right hand he would want to use his right hand for some fun later either with his own self or maybe he could pull the male aside either way he was going to please himself somehow. To relieve that stress.
Jet stood by the stairs as he waited for the others to leave before him keeping his katana out. [b “Too bad I don’t have smokes I could really use one.”] He mumbled to himself.
Cecyl nodded a moment: She did understand what the girl was saying.. But it didn't mean she had to like it. "[b Listen.]" She was whispering to the girl: "[b I'm sorry. I don't want you to think that you owe me anything, you don't. Just, let me help you.]"
Cecyl looked to Owen. "[b Sorry. I'm not into guys, so I'm not interested, plus.. I'm already married to my work. I just need to check on my patient..]"
Going into the master bedroom: She put a hand on his forehead: Hot. Checking his pulse she closed her eyes shaking her head. Leaning forward she heard a low groan: "[b Here we go..]"
Driving her machete into the man's head she sighed: "[b Only so much this girl can do...]"
Grabbing her bag she threw it over her back. "[b I don't like killing, too messy but... I can if I have to.. I won't waste my time however. I only aim to make things bearable for people who need the help.]"
Cecyllia wasn't going to hang her hat with a group that didn't give a shit about it's own people. Though they didn't know her and she didn't know them. Giving them a chance, that's all she could do and nothing more.
But this, girl. Anita- she needed help and they had to get away from this house and that was something she could agree on. Being a part of a group could be more important than ever before.
"[b Lead the way, then..]" She said as she sheathed her machete.
[center Anita watched as the man named Jet exited the area, declining her request for help. She rolled her eyes, out of all the people, she expected him to be the least likely to help her. Anita turned her head to Cecyllia and let out a small sigh. [#4B0082 "Look, I'm grateful, I really fucking am. However, I am not lying when I say that helping me wasn't a smart move. Nor is announcing to others that you are a doctor. People around here, they aren't kind." ] Her eyes flashed to the other male in the room. He didn't seem like the gang type, but you could never be too careful. [#4B0082 "I've seen people getting ripped apart from the ones they love, all because they have skills that could help out these stupid fucking gangs."] Her voice was low, angry. She pressed her face near the girl and whispered, [#4B0082 "Just, next time, be careful, okay? And I know, no one works for free. I have some supplies hidden that I can share with you."]
Anita moved away from the blonde, turning to the male who was speaking. She gave him a slight wink when he finished his sentence, [#4B0082 "I can't lie, I wanted to go for a ride, but I guess you can take it."] She bit down on her lip lightly, [#4B0082 "And thank you, I appreciate it-" ]
Anita whipped around at the sound of someone entering the building, her blade cutting into the air near her as she turned. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that it was just the dark haired man called Jet, lowering her weapon slightly. She cocked her eyebrow as he spoke, then let out a tiny chuckle. [#4B0082 "I always return my favors." ]
Just as Anita sat up she heard a large clicking noise, then a single buzz. Her eyes darted around the room looking for the culprit, confusion boiling up in her stomach as the lights started to flicker. Not just the lights in the house they were in either. The street lights started to flicker, too. Suddenly, a loud bang could be heard, and all the lights near the bunch were out. Darkness swallowed the city, and a loud scream could be heard down the block. [#4B0082 "Fuck, I knew this was going to happen. Fuck, fuck, fuck! We got to go, like now." ]
[left [pic http://i68.tinypic.com/net1es.png]]
What a fucked bunch.
He decided, then, that he would NOT rob them.
Owen listened intently, though he could not have possibly given a lesser fuck about the rich elitists tucked away in their little airtight lockers. Let 'em rot, fuck 'em. Why should he be concerned with revenge when he was no longer chained to law enforcement 24/7? He was gonna live it up, undead or no. And then there were folks like these three, the final pieces of a busted puzzle, the rest of a bad joke with a horrible punchline. A convict, a doctor, a samurai, and a highschooler all walk into a bar...
His attention was diverted.
Two offers in one go. Geez, was he that good looking? How nice. A crooked grin worked its way across his face, gaze flitting between the younger of the two girls and the odd man with the swords who appeared to not have much of a thing for the ladies. [b "You might not like chicks, precious, but I like [i everything]."] Always ready to flirt, in a sick, douchey kinda way. Owen was a reeeal piece of work. Their living situation was cause for some uncertainty, though, so perhaps some ingenuity would do them some good as things worsened and the living grew fewer and fewer still. He leaned against the wall, eyeing them each as he contemplated the physician's words.
'Help'. The swordsman had mentioned something similar, followed by the brunette.
What a Motley crew of busted ass oddballs-
Owen [i liked] it.
His only reluctance would have been if there was anyone inherently moronic amongst them, but he was an intelligent man, however twisted. None of them knew one another well, which was of interest, as it meant they'd all survived on their own to some degree by using their own strengths to keep them alive. This brought with it the promise of being in a well-rounded group for once, a change from these rag-tag groups of savages that turned against one another at the slightest sign of trouble or who went mad with the terrifying lust that came with a lawless environment.
Owen would beat the shit outta folks if he felt the need but he was no rapist, and he kept his promises. It was hard to avoid certain people nowadays, though, so he'd wound up avoiding groups altogether in the past few weeks.
They'd be a better bunch than the last had been?
[b "I don't know any of you, but I like foursomes, and I love killing shit. I'm down with it. But the fuckin' skateboard's mine, I'll eat your goddamned legs off if you try some shit."] he warned, thinking back to the board outside. It was his, fair and square.
Not that they'd want it, but Owen had learned to guard every [i speck] in prison and he wasn't stopping now, not with the lack of officers roaming about to keep the peace.
"MOM! PLEASE! WAKE UP!" D screamed into her mothers face as she shook her awake from her deep sleep.
"DAD PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO CARRY JEREMY, HE IS TOO HEAVY FOR ME AND I CAN'T WAKE HIM UP, I THINK HE INHALED TOO MUCH SMOKE!"
Suddenly Dianne's dad jumped from the bed, and with lightning quick reflexes grabbed D's younger brother.
After a few moments Dianne's mother sheepishly grinned at her daughter, [b "Hunny, you are too old to crawl in bed with me and your dad when you have a nightmar-" ]
"MOM you have to get up, the house is on fire, you need to move your fucking ass NOW!" Dianne opened the second story window to her parents bedroom. Holding on to the curtain rod above the window she smashed the screen out with a single kick, and crawled out onto the small roof that extended from the house below the window.
Dianne's father handed Jeremy to D, and helped his wife through the window as well.
Dianne knew she had to find a way to climb down to help the rest of her family, but she could only think to jump. As she threw her body over the small roof she shakily held onto the rain gutters, and dropped down to the ground, bracing for the fall by bending her knees and covering her head.
Though the descent wasn't as smooth as she had planned she was still unscathed. While watching the rest of her family make their way from the small roof from the side of the house, she saw their pictures and childhood memories slowly burn and turn to ash.
Waking up in a cold sweat, Dianne could hear the undead banging on the main door of the house. [i Had I really been that loud? ]
[i I guess I can go see whats going on out there, maybe I can take those fucker out. ] After taking a quick glance at her left arm, and the limp motions it made when she moved, Dianne realized that fighting anyone would not be an option.
Crawling through the window and onto the tiny ladder extending from the small metal patio, Dianne could get a better view of the streets, and slowly found her way up to the roof, though she was realizing just how important her arm was to her, considering it took her five extra minutes to climb the ladder.
Undead swarmed the house, a mob of 20-30. Dianne fell to the ground, feeling defeated, but knowing she would somehow find a way out of this mess like she always manages to do.
Oliver cracked the top of a can of beans off, dropping it in an almost-full trash bag before beginning to eat them cold. He moved to his window, pulling back the blinds and peering into the center of the cul-de-sac where a small fleet of the undead helped themselves to fresh prey.
He kept to himself. He had been lucky. His sister had been killed before all hell broke loose, and his parents long before that. Traveling in a pack was an unnatural notion to him. His gaze drifted to the house he knew now to be at least temporarily occupied. Didn't they know they were just opening themselves up to more risk than if they travelled alone? Oliver scoffed, shoving another unsatisfying spoonful of beans into his mouth.
He came away from the blinds after some time, traversing the living room to enter the narrow hallway leading to a couple of bedrooms and that door he always dreaded walking to, the door to the basement. His hand lingered on the knob for a long while and he braced himself for the sight that he knew deep in his bones he would never get used to.
Oliver opened the door and stepped down the first three rickety stairs before him, eating his beans and listening to the dull groans and shambles below. He pulled at a string that hung overhead, his eyes adjusting to the dim light that filled the wide basement and revealed the beings Oliver had come to think of as something like roommates. A long series of pipes made up one of the basement's walls; Oliver remembered hanging out on lazy Saturday afternoons with Tommy down here. Tommy had a PlayStation 2 back when it was state of the art. Oliver's family was too poor to afford video games or anything of that sort, so Tommy's home was almost like a little amusement park where he could spend entire weekends adventuring and killing various monsters to his heart's content. He sighed. He missed the days when this was all make believe. Chained to the pipes were 7 different undead, the former members of some gang or another, one who had gotten a bit too bold and explorative when raiding the local neighborhoods. Oliver thought again to the person and the house nearby. Had he saved someone an awful fate by catching these goons in the act?
He kept them in the basement as nothing more than an elaborate trap. At the far end of the basement away from the stairs were a set of stairs that led to a double set of cellar doors which separated the lowest level of the house from the backyard. If he was overrun by an enemy group he could navigate the dark basement and head out those doors, leading his pursuers into an entanglement of infected teeth and tearing fingers. Conversely, if anyone were to try and invade his shelter through the backdoors, they would end up the prey of Oliver's newfound and very hungry roommates. If either situational set of evildoers were able to kill the zombies, it would at least buy Oliver time to escape or slaughter his opponents.
He pulled the string again, leaving the basement devoid of light and returning to the light of day. He chunked the can, dropped the spoon into the sink, and returned to his window, glancing out to find the creatures from before slaughtered and lying splayed across the ground. He glanced up at the sun, judging that he probably had a few good hours of daylight left. He had enough time for one final scavenging run.
Oliver grabbed his bag, heading out his front door and freezing in his tracks. A small group of four undead shambled towards his front door. [i Shit.] They must have been drawn from whatever chaos had taken place in the cul-de-sac while he was in the basement. Oliver drew his Ka-Bar in a matter of a couple of seconds, closing the distance between himself and the closest monster and driving the knife into its skull.
He shoved the twice dead creature onto its side and split into the head of the next one, throwing a hard right into the side of the next one to floor it before crouching quickly and feeling his few inches of steel slide into the fragile skull and the decaying brain beneath. The last one was downed in two slashes.
Oliver's chest heaved as he opened the door of his truck, twisting his key and listening as his loud engine began to rumble to life.
Jet heard a male’s voice behind him his face grinning from side to side then in an instant it became a frown as he spoke of a threesome in a dirty place. [b “Listen here dumb fuck.”] He cleared his throat as he stood up halfway up the stairs half way down. [b “Some of us don’t have the same tastes. I despise women sexually. I can deal with them as a person but I don’t tend on ever touching one filthy little creatures. Now you… You I wouldn’t mind going a round or two with you we can always find a nice clean place…”] Jet licked his lips then looked back at the women.
The dark-haired woman loved to cuss almost as much as he did she told him that there would be no use trying to get over their side. [b “I have been in and out many of times how do you think I got all the fucking drugs that I sold to make profit…”] The blonde then spoke of a tunnel and how she stole supplies too he liked these two one was a bad mouth the other one was smart, she knew how to get over the wall into their territory. [b “Hmmm I see the tunnel, I don’t think I am going to use it though don’t want to use the only way in and out for now, until I can secure my old route. Here take this Cece, it’s easier to just say Cece for me its quicker too. Fuck I’m rambling again! Fucking idiot….”] He kept an eye on the three then the woman spoke of how she needed help. Jet gave the Doc the key to his safes filled with all sorts of drugs from morphine to meth.
[b “Sorry lady but I can’t help you I have my own selfish agenda to attend to, also you people will be fucking die around me everyone always does. Two of the toughest men I knew died right in fucking front of me and turned into those things. Maybe when this is all over we will see each other again. Oh, Doc that key if you take the roof and about two blocks make a right and you will see a Wearhouse its quite big. Not wanting to brag but it is big. Go there you want to be a hero to those people take the morphine and whatever another drug you Need to save them…. Leave the rest. That’s all I can do to help I work alone.”] Jet walked back up the stairs past the silver haired male. [b “Find me if you ever want to take me up on my offer I think you would enjoy it very much.”] he touched his shoulder
Jet had other plans at least he knew one way into the city but he needed to clear a path for another he believed it was the others who had caused the poor to suffer anymore. His violet eyes filled with anger his fist balled up as he walked to the window and descended down the roof unsheathing both of his katanas but not before dawning his mask. He made his way to the center of the cul-de-sac a few stray undead came at him their arms stretched out for him one of the undead had a poor bastards flesh hanging from their mouth.
[b “Poor bastard but unlike the man you ate, you can’t kill an Oni.”] He spoke under his mask held a grin. He moved swiftly dodging the first attacked the second one grabbing his left arm before the undead could sink its teeth into his delicate skin he chopped its head off with a clean-cut splattering the blood on his mask he quickly killed the others hearing more coming towards his location. [b “Well fuck me in my ass. I don’t want no fucking help but maybe just maybe helping them will help me.”] He kicked one of the undead body’s. [b “Fucking Whore!”] Jet made his way back to the house this time going through the front door. [b “Hey, long time no see. How about a fucking compromise? I help you and you help me. WE all will end up happy what the fuck do you three say?’] He laughed
Cecyl was taken back by what she said: [i an idiot?!] Cecyl took a deep breath, she did not want to punch this girl in the face. She looked away: "[b I was trying to help you, sorry for that! Next time I'll just let the dead swarm you!]"
Being taken off guard by the man who had appeared before them: Looking to the girl she shrugged: "[b I have no idea who he is! In fact, I just met you! I'm by myself.]" Turning to the man she didn't know. "[b I don't know him, I never met him.]"
Cecyl sighed and apologized quickly: "[b Sorry, I appear to have gotten ahead of myself: My name is Cecyllia Irons, you may call me Cecyl.]"
Cecyl had understand what Jet was trying to say: "[b Listen, a lot of the people who live in the rich area are evil terrible people but there are good people! If we storm that place or bring the dead with us... The military force will eviscerate anyone or thing. Believe it or not. Staying in a structurally sound area while reducing the sound made is the best option, but Jet if you truly wish to go after those in the high end... There's a tunnel under the house, just rest and wait until the dead are gone. I can't allow myself to be caught by them. I stole supplies from them. I do not regret my decision. I can do a lot more out here than there..]"
Yes, she may have admitted to where she had grown up but she never felt like she belonged. Her eyes widened as she looked at her machete:
Two weeks earlier: Cecyl had come home from work, she'd been doing small check ups and that had been about it. She had sat down at the table in the dining room eating cereal. Her mom had walked in and had a menacing look on her face: "[b that's not yours..]"
Cecyl had dealt with drama everyday, growing up, she had a distinguishable scar on the back of her leg from taking more ten minutes in the shower. Her father had pulled her out the shower by her hair. Her mother was the one who stitched it up.
Cecyl spoke: "[b Can we not do this now, mother?]"
Her mother slapped her: "[b Get the fuck out of my face, you little cunt.]"
Cecyl's eyes were wide, something had finally snapped in her because she had jammed a butter knife into her mother's chest with all her might, then she had blacked out next thing she knew she was holding a machete and covered in blood, her whole family was dead, by her hand.
She came back to the current situation: Her eyes wide, she sat down: "[b Yes, it is very nice meeting you Jet..]"
Then the fourth guy showed up: turning to the girl: Her eyes were wide with having dealt with her past just now: "[b Please. Don't use the term idiot so loosely. I will help you people but I don't run a bed and breakfast...]"
[center Anita heard footsteps thundering above her, moving down the staircase and to the hallway. She gripped her machete tightly, ready to pounce at any given moment.
When Anita saw the blonde hair she froze, automatically assuming it was her friend, Dianne. A wave of relief washed over her as she stepped towards the figure that was pulling down a barricade. Instead of seeing the familiar face of her sidekick, she saw a girl with green, kind eyes. Her relief was rinsed away with panic, not because she didn't know the person, but because it wasn't her friend at all.
Anita cocked her eyebrow at the girl, shocked by the display she just saw. [#4B0082 "You're an idiot, you know that?" ] She hissed, lowering her weapon slightly. [#4B0082 "You came rushing to let me in, not knowing if I was going to kill you. I'm not, but fuck girl, that was a dumb move on your part." ] She started to shake her head, this girl wasn't from around these parts. [#4B0082 "And don't go announcing yourself as a doctor, people [b will ] take you against your will and make you a permanent member of their gang." ]
Another noise crept up behind Anita, forcing her to turn on her heel towards it. She could hear footsteps now coming down the stairs again. [#4B0082 "You've got to be fucking kidding me," ] She rolled her eyes and tried to push the green-eyed beauty behind her, raising her blade. [#4B0082 "Is that your friend?" ]
Before Anita could say another word the culprit of the noise appeared, mask over his face. She listened to him speak and couldn't help but roll her eyes at his comments. [#4B0082 "Another fucking idiot here," ] She grumbled under her breath, along with a couple more curse words. [#4B0082 "You don't think people haven't tried getting over the gates? They snipe down anyone that even gets close to it-" ] Another noise cut her off. [#4B0082 [i 'The fuck? ] ]
Anita cocked an eyebrow at the man that appeared next. He was handsome, with piercing blue eyes. [#4B0082 "You want to make it a foursome?" ] She winked, before turning towards the woman named Cecyllia. [#4B0082 "I don't need your help but my friend might. She knows how to keep contact with me so it won't be hard to find her. She has some medical experience but she's no doc-" ] Anita's eyes darted toward the two men. She didn't trust them, not one bit. This girl, however, her eyes showed warmth that had been vacant on this side of the city for a while. [#4B0082 "Look, I'm not one for grouping up. Not in a long shot, but right now, I fucking need help. I just need to sit for a few minutes to catch my breath, then I'm going out there again to find my friend. It would be nice to have some extra hands against the oncoming horde." ] Anita crossed from everyone, making sure her machete stayed in between her and the men. She sat on a tattered couch, not caring for the dried blood splattered across it. In the apocalypse, you were going to get blood on you, so it didn't really matter to Anita. She didn't expect any of them to come with her, in fact, she was waiting for them to pounce on her like the prey she felt like. [#4B0082 "Are you guys, like a crew? You all came from the upstairs..."]
Anita was puzzled, had each one of them not noticed each other? Or had they snuck in from the roof individually? Who was there first, if they weren't together?
[left [pic http://i68.tinypic.com/net1es.png]] [b "You [i fuckers] are in my way!"]
Rancid blood and rotting meat spattered across the sidewalk as their heads caved in under the weight of his heavy metal rod, his eyes wild with displeasure as he went about the usual task of scavenging despite the obstacles. Still, this little town was a hell of a lot better than prison, there weren't any probation officers to check in with, no rules, no dirty looks. Why?
'Cause people were fucking eating each other, nobody cared what he did.
Owen hadn't ever given the undead much thought, not before, and not now. Why should he? He hadn't lost anyone or anything in this supposed shitstorm, so much as it'd bailed him out of a ten year sentence and given him free reign of the streets. He'd nicked a few vehicles thus far, having wound up in LunaVale about a week ago and having decided to stick around. Owen had no reason to rush out, no reason to leave. 'Place probably still had a few cans of something somewhere, right? Worth a look. It wasn't like he had a goal in mind or a car to drive at the moment, place was perfect for his playtime habits.
He was, unfortunately, a bit of a wild card, currently scooting about on a skateboard he'd scored in a backyard somewhere. O had missed having one, he'd been in and out of juvie and prison for so long that he'd been on a bit of a hiatus from his regular hobbies, though now, nobody was around to holler at him for tapping the rod on lamp posts and telephone poles, attracting attention to himself in the hopes that he'd be followed. He knew they could hear him. He knew they could smell him.
And it was sunset, the perfect opportunity to be out with such predators! Morons would be crawling around everywhere, and they'd be snacked on while he looted their shit like the bastard he was. For now, though, he merely wove in and out of locked, looted, and busted cars on the street, grinning as usual.
He was a big fellow, but he was plenty nimble. He circled an abandoned drive-through and kicked up the board, catching it as he hauled himself into a vent and smashed the vent shut in their starved, rotting faces.
[b "I'll be right back, don't leave yet."] he instructed, shooting them a creepily loving look as he scurried through the vents. He dropped into the old restaurant, rod tucked into his pants and jacket to keep it from clanking off everything as he went to watch them from the window. Such fun... But, he wanted more from them today. He instead pulled out his pistol and slammed it into the side of the building a few times to get their attention, sitting at the drive through window with a bright, toothy grin. They came.
[b "I'll take your order now, assholes!"]
Owen did not make a habit of counting bullets, as he did not perceive guns to be 'real' weapons. An exciting weapon didn't fire shit, it crush skulls. Guns were toys, the fallback of pussies and churchgoers, of which the overly deranged ex-convict was neither. He killed them all, closing the window and heading back out through the same vent to continue the search for food.
Luckily a raccoon had the misfortune of stepping out in front of him, though, and Owen made quick work of the furry woodland beast, skinning it with his knife and taking it back to the restaurant. Using their coal stove was risky, he'd have to cook it with high heat and watch the time.
They'd smell it.
He sat in front of it with his weapon of choice, hidden partly by the counter as he strained to hear any and all things.
Yes, he could smell the coon.
If he could smell it, so could they. He shut the thing down and pulled it from the stove, sticking a knife in it with which to carry it as he ate his catch in the vents. He watched them swarm below, knowing they could smell him but never reach him.
The failure of others pleased him greatly.
Once finished, Owen again took to the streets. Gangs wheeled around, having a blast. O liked the way they thought, he could relate. This was a time to rejoice! The world was finally livable, finally people were independent! Such a simple, righteous time to be alive... His blue eyes shined with delight as he returned to the task of raiding homes, and entered one whose door was already opened. He could hear voices, and that was to say the one legged bro out cold toward the front was ACTUALLY dead, himself.
He thought better of it, popping back out the front door and circling the house so he could climb the decorative fencing along the side snd scale the piping to get into a bedroom. Much better. Nice room, too... He gave the pillow a squeeze. Yes, perhaps he ought to stay... Or take the pillow, perhaps. He gave this some thought before he heard a man's voice, something about rich people, something else about the undead. He'd heard the murmur of a woman, too, not too long ago.
Owen shrugged this off and went about nabbing the pillow, pleased. Yes, this would be good for sleep. He held his rod in front of him as he hung back around the corner from the stairwell, listening. Who was he even talking to?
Did they have food to steal?
He came forward, raising his brows at the three people gathered there. [b "Kind of a shitty place for a threesome, but I can dig it, I guess."]
Owen was knowingly an asshole.
But he wouldn't attack them, not yet, if he did choose to in the first place. Maybe they'd be interesting? Owen liked interesting things.
[center "I'm sorry kid, you're not gonna make it.."
"Ju... Just bring me my supplies okay? I think I have a gun and some bullets left in there." The boy looked defeated and fought off a tremble in his lip. D walked across the room and over the zombie brains and guts that had been spilled on the floor. She picked up the handgun, which felt like an anchor in her hand.
"I don't think you'll want to be here for this... you should leave now... before I... " the boy silently began to cry, but D understand by the heaving of his shoulders.
D quickly walked over to the kid and got down on her knee.
She looked him in the eye, seeing the horrors in the lines of his face, in the circles under his dulling eyes. The young boy couldn't have been older than 16, and had already come to terms with ending his own life.
But Dianne had different plans.
"I'm gonna need this gun." and shot him in the head quickly and with little pain.
Running out of the house with the supplies in hand, D ran down a back alley as quickly as she could, hoping she could get away from the area before the zombies made their way there.
Suddenly she heard the smashing of a garbage can onto the ground.
Looking around D tried to find a place to hide, and looking up found a ladder up to a rooftop. Dianne started sprinting for the ladder when a zombie appeared from around the corner. The zombie and D got closer to one another until she finally smacked the rotting corpse square in the face with her metal bat. [b DING! ] The spray of blood splattered the wall, making the ladder wet as a result.
Dianne knelt down and threw her bat in the black bag strapped across her back, and quickly pulled her knife out and placed in her mouth.
While brisk and silent she still attracted attention from the zombies around her when she pulled the ladder down from its holder and climbed up the 2 story apartment complex. As Dianne made her ascent towards the rooftop she felt a sharp pull and knew she was starting to slip from the ladder, she could sense the blood underneath her hands, making her unstable. A snapping zombie waited for her at the bottom of the building, holding onto her ankle.
Dianne managed to rip her leg away from the zombie after kicking it in the face, crumpling it to the ground and escaping before another zombie could land a hold on her legs again. As D crawled onto the roof she felt her arm pull in a harsh direction, and surprisingly, yet drawing much concern from D, couldn't be felt at all. Unsure of what caused the pain she continued on her rushed journey back to her hideout.
Running swiftly through the twilight on the roofs she kept having to take breaks to hush herself from crying out in pain.
"Fuck!!!" D cried out in agony. Her left hand fell limp by her side, right hand slightly blue from the spray can used to communicate with Anita when the two split up for supplies. [i 'I hope that stupid bitch didn't get killed. She was supposed to be back by nightfall. ]
Circling around the small room in quick steps, D tried to keep her mind off of the intense pain coming from her shoulder, though the part that worried her mind the most was that it felt as if the rest of her arm was completely dead. Already having spent too much time on trying to figure out why her arm was fucked up, Dianna moved on to barricade herself in the room for the night. [i 'Anita will find me in the morning... She has too, she's not stupid enough to put herself in a dangerous situation...' ]
Throughout the night D awoke to terrified screams, though she was unsure if they were screams of those alive, or people that had no chance left. During the day Dianne would have ran to help the people she could faintly make out running away from zombies in the street through the small window in her hideout. But zombies had the capability to smell and hear their prey before humans could even hope to notice them. And D knew that her life was more important than some idiots who thought moving at night would be a better idea. As well as Dianne knew she couldn't fight at full capacity in her physical state anyways.
Quickly and quietly D would fall back into her slumber, baseball bat on her left side and a knife in her belt.
Dark blood splattered the toes of his boots and the front of his thick coat. Gun smoke dissipated from the muzzle of his Beretta and Oliver stepped over the fresh corpse, its head now nothing more than red pulp spread in a semicircle around its savaged neck. He slid the gun back into its holster on his hip, the fingers of his other hand finding the familiar handle of the Ka-Bar knife his father had given him years ago before taking off on a business trip he would never return from. Oliver wondered for what could have been the hundredth time if something had happened to his father or if he had just taken off with the intention of never returning to his family. He crouched, sliding the blade into the soft skull of a scrambling undead who had been gone from the world of the living for so long that no features remained prevalent on its face. One clean motion.
He stepped out of the narrow alley, a duffel bag filled with canned foods slung over his shoulder. He travelled alone, so providing for himself was fairly easy. Defending himself against large hordes of the undead or groups of bandits proved difficult, though. A faded red truck was parked a few dozen feet down the road, and Oliver threw the bag into the bed as he reached it. He unlocked it, slid into the driver's seat, and was moving in seconds.
As he rolled out of LunaVale's heaviest shopping district, parking and killing the engine every few minutes as a few groups of gang members drove by in loud, intimidating vehicles of their own, he turned off in the direction of the home of a childhood friend, the house he had been holding up in since everything had fallen apart. It had remained relatively safe; one night he had returned home to find an enemy gang had forced their way inside and were in the process of raiding his carefully collected supplies. He had used stealth to his advantage and taken all of the intruders out, but their undead forms still lingered in the basement, locked below the rest of the home with nothing to do but to shamble back and forth.
He pulled into the familiar cul-de-sac and then down the driveway he had grown accustom to, exiting his truck and throwing the door closed when he noticed what looked like a dark-haired man entering the house three doors away. He froze, his hand instinctively flying to the gun on his hip. He stood for three long moments, tense, before relaxing just a bit. He grabbed the bag from the bed of his truck and headed into his home.
Whatever was going on over there was none of his business.
[center Hours before the horde of zombies found away into the “Slums” Jet was running his “Business” Smoothly. People came to him trading food, money, women and even men for drugs that would make you forget about life and all your troubles. Once Jet got tired for the day he let his men take over and he went to the roof for a smoke.
It was then that he noticed people screaming and running around the town, it couldn’t have been the drugs, right? No, it couldn’t have this was something else something more dangerous people were being torn apart and eaten. The short haired male put his oni mask back on his face and re-entered his building through the window latching his two katanas to his hip walking back down the stairs.
[b “Ivan, Egor. Come we are leaving.”] He spoke grabbing one of the handguns on the table. [b “Hide the drugs upstairs in the safe, we are going into town to have fun like the others we will kill those fucking rich kids who are carelessly ripping up our people.”] He hissed. Even though Jet was a hard ass who always had a bad attitude pretty much hating everyone and everything besides those who worked under him jet had a soft side for those who lived in the rundown city.
His right and left-hand men did as they were told and were off. It was far from being quiet they heard screams from women men and children filling the air and Jet became angrier with each passing moment. The black hair blew in the wind his weapon in the ready as they came around the bend. Jet fired three shots at the human before he turned around her eyes foggy her mouth bloody and skin all torn up. [b “What the fuck happened to you?”] He shouted those three shots should have killed her but she ran towards him. Ivan pushed her back and got bitten on his wrist in the process.
More of the deranged started to run their way being attracted by the sound of the gun so jet and the two ran slipping in-between buildings and homes making their way to their Warehouse. [b “What the fuck are those things we need to barricade the doors. Ivan are you okay?”] He spoke egor by Ivan’s side as he turned and ripped out Egors throat with his teeth. [b “No Ivan what the fuck man gets off him. I swear I haven’t done any of the shit we sell. You guys did this to me didn’t you I’m just having a really bad trip…”] He laughed nervously as the man he once called friend lunged at him.
In one swift movement, the violet eyed male pulled his katana from his sheath slicing his head off. Jet ran upstairs putting his oni mask to the side tears flowed from his face he didn’t know what had happened he just knew he killed his friend. He looked out the window seeing about 20 to 30 undead at the door, [b “I guess I have no choice in the matter, do I?”] He spoke crouching out the window sneaking out from the roof.
Jet traveled across roofs for an hour looking through windows seeing if anything was alive or if they were dead he felt like he wanted to be alone but he secretly wanted to save others from the horrors that he had just seen.
The male came across a home where a man laid his foot cut off and a woman walking down stairs. The male seemed to have passed out from the pain so it would be easy to sneak in this place. Jet opened the window from the outside slowly not to make a noise and headed for the stairs to see how many others were there.
Upon him coming to the top of the stairs he hears the woman introducing herself to another and speaking about the man in the bed. He became angry with himself if only he had done that for Ivan both of them would still be alive. Jet walked down the stair his Oni mask on his face, [b “Well hello ladies, don’t be alarmed I don’t bite like those out there. If anything, those things out there were created by the rich inside their protected walls. They have always wanted to get rid of us let’s find a way to get them into their walls.”] Jet paused pulling off his mask. [b “The names Jet, let us protect the remaining people of our town by sending the Rich a gift… What do you say loves?…”] He asked and then started to laugh. [b “I’m kidding I’m kidding. Let’s just save whomever we can and get our asses through their walls. And if they have a problem with it, only if that’s when we send in those undead fuckers.”] Jet found a spot on the stairs to sit his hand on one of his Katanas in case one of them came at him.]
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.