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((Hello to you all, I'm Misumena. Most people call me Misu for short. Like Blue, i've been RPing for near enough three years so i like to think that we know what's needed in an RPG.
I guess i'm the Second In Command for the moment, so if you have any questions don't think that you just have to ask Blue because I can help as well.))

((Right, here is my character))

Name: Warren .D. Issacs

Age: 22

Current Location: Roof,Richmond Hospital, Lower West Side,Deadlock City

Weapons: BoneSaw used for amputation

Other Equipment:Surgeons face mask and a bandana

Physical Description: Five ft 11 ins, Medium build, shoulder length Blonde hair, Blue eyes, Lightly tanned skin. Tattered blood stained trainers, Dark Blue Denim Jeans held up by a black leather belt. Red long sleeved T -shirt ripped at the right sleeve and a white unbuttoned short sleeved shirt covering the T Shirt.

Personality: Warren was considered to be a model human being until he was found Breaking into cars and experimenting with minor class drugs. Since attending meetings every week, Warren has since returned to his original state but has since grown to trusting and has recently been unable to cope with loss of anything in his life.

Character Background:Brought into the world by two loving parents, his life was destined for greatness. Through school, he was top of the class but gradually his grades started to fall until he evetually dropped out altogether.
His life turned for the worst when he started to take drugs and steal. After realising the mistake he had made, Warren visited the local hospital each week and attended a class for indiviuals hoping to change their lives. Warren also took a course in first aid hoping to prove to himself his life wasn't a waste of time.
Warren was attending one of the rehab classes when the outbreak began in the lower A and E wing. It gradually spread through the hospital pushing those uninfected and minor injured to the roof. The door has been sealed shut by a chair pressed against the handle but it's gradually deteriating.

(Well, thats my character)

((Any of you remember me? I stopped posting around the 40-70's. Anywho I would gladley re-join this fine RP. I havea few questions though. The time? area? Is it still taking place with zombies and shit? I will fill out the sheet now.))

Name: Marcus Williams

Age: 29

Weapons: Combat-knife (Ka-bar) M9 Beretta (with 5 spare mags)

Equipment: Flashlight (attached to M9)

Physical Discription/Clothing: 6"2' 180lbs. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes. Sort of a tinted skin color, but not toally tan. Wears a old camo jacket, white T, stonewashed jeans, and boots.

Character Background: A U.S Army resurve. The infection hit him and his family like a bullet hits a turkey sandwhich his wife and son were eaten, alive. After he found out of the death of his wife and son, he proceded to a military checkpoint to help sucure the checkpoint, and get others to safety. he was sent out with 4 other marines to scope houses out for survivors....

At 1/31/09 04:48 PM, ironraven24 wrote: ((Any of you remember me? I stopped posting around the 40-70's. Anywho I would gladley re-join this fine RP. I havea few questions though. The time? area? Is it still taking place with zombies and shit? I will fill out the sheet now.))

Name: Marcus Williams

Age: 29

Weapons: Combat-knife (Ka-bar) M9 Beretta (with 5 spare mags)

Equipment: Flashlight (attached to M9)

Physical Discription/Clothing: 6"2' 180lbs. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes. Sort of a tinted skin color, but not toally tan. Wears a old camo jacket, white T, stonewashed jeans, and boots.

Character Background: A U.S Army resurve. The infection hit him and his family like a bullet hits a turkey sandwhich his wife and son were eaten, alive. After he found out of the death of his wife and son, he proceded to a military checkpoint to help sucure the checkpoint, and get others to safety. he was sent out with 4 other marines to scope houses out for survivors....

((Sorry mate, but I don't remember you. Mostly because page 40-70 was over a year ago I think. Anyway, your sheet looks great, I just need you to say your current location, and then you are good to go.

The time and place is modern day, (so like 2009-ish) and we're in Deadlock City. It's sorta our equilivent to Raccoon City, so zombies, monsters, viral infections, all that jazz. As for the type of zombie/monster, anything goes really, so long as they can't fly and shit. You can do slow zombies, fast zombies, mutated cockroaches, giant spiders, whatever.

It's awesome to see that an old member joined back up! Glad to see you back, pal.))

At 2/1/09 01:56 PM, Blue-Dragon wrote:

((Sorry mate, but I don't remember you. Mostly because page 40-70 was over a year ago I think. Anyway, your sheet looks great, I just need you to say your current location, and then you are good to go.

((Is the based world wide or to specific area?))

The time and place is modern day, (so like 2009-ish) and we're in Deadlock City. It's sorta our equilivent to Raccoon City, so zombies, monsters, viral infections, all that jazz. As for the type of zombie/monster, anything goes really, so long as they can't fly and shit. You can do slow zombies, fast zombies, mutated cockroaches, giant spiders, whatever.

((alright, as soon as I get a reply to my question i'll list my location and start))

Name: Fred Sheperd
Age:28
Current Location:My home first floor,north side
Weapons:M16,Luger,M9 (has 5 clips for each weapon, trained in hand to hand combat,also trained riot contral.)
Other Equipment:rock climbing gear,riot gear,and gasmask
Physical Description/Clothing:5"10 has a kevlar vest, a army issued helmat, combat boots,camo pants, and dogtags,pale eyes,jet black hair,and musclar a bit skiny on the sides.
Personality:loving,funny,always able to do the job,and able to talk to
Character background:Was born in a military family took ranger training, also took sniper training was about to be sent to japan when he found out that the infection took over,all of my freinds died while trying to warn me barricaded house but going to the St. Paul's Catholic Church to find my daughters freind that was evcauted there.

(it is also my first rpg so if u got any pointers let me know)

At 2/1/09 07:08 PM, awe548 wrote:

Weapons:M16,Luger,M9 (has 5 clips for each weapon, trained in hand to hand combat,also trained riot contral.)

((Well... M16 is acceptable I guess, but a Luger? Thats pushing it a little. I suggest You pick the M16, or a more modern handgun, only one of them, not both.))

Other Equipment:rock climbing gear,riot gear,and gasmask

Rock Climbing gear? how did he obtain this.. Could he always carry this around with him, without being fatigued constantley? Same with the riot gear... thats alot of stuff. Eitehr he has extreme endurance, or hes screwed. Lighten his load.))

Physical Description/Clothing:5"10 has a kevlar vest, a army issued helmat, combat boots,camo pants, and dogtags,pale eyes,jet black hair,and musclar a bit skiny on the sides.

((Everything is good, but the Kevlar.. did he obtain this? did he own it? It just seems odd that hes so equipped for an outbreak. Also the U.S Army today uses Dragon Skin armor, not kevlar.))

Personality:loving,funny,always able to do the job,and able to talk to
Character background:Was born in a military family took ranger training, also took sniper training was about to be sent to japan when he found out that the infection took over,all of my freinds died while trying to warn me barricaded house but going to the St. Paul's Catholic Church to find my daughters freind that was evcauted there.

((Cool.))

((I don't see any problem with a luger to be honest. There are literally tons of old weapons lying around peoples houses, it stands to reason that they could be cleaned and used.
I have to agree with you on the full riot kit though Raven. It seems a bit much for one person to have. But in a city where everythings gone to hell, anything can happen))

((Oh yeah Raven, for the moment, its just based in Deadlock City))

At 2/2/09 09:49 AM, Misumena wrote:

((Oh yeah Raven, for the moment, its just based in Deadlock City))

((Ah, then... I should've just added this earlier.. His current location is at an army checkpoint near the border of the town.

((raven i was about to be sent to help some traininee's with the ranger moutin training when it started and they issued us riot gear and gasmaks and personally i like the kevlar i have 4 dragonskin's at my house but its barricaded so yeah lol locked my self out..........real smooth move there))

At 2/2/09 10:50 PM, awe548 wrote: ((raven i was about to be sent to help some traininee's with the ranger moutin training when it started and they issued us riot gear and gasmaks and personally i like the kevlar i have 4 dragonskin's at my house but its barricaded so yeah lol locked my self out..........real smooth move there))

((Pointers away my friend:

1.) Type like I am right now, with proper spelling, grammer, and punctuation, please. I don't know where you live or how old you are, so I'm just going to assume you live in North America, and are at least 13 or so years old, so yeah...you should be able to type good.

But if not, just run your posts through a spellchecker before you post, it's all good. Hell, I do that some times.

2.) About all that equipment, I have no problem with what you have and how you got it. Really, it's nicely thought out. But yeah, I have real riot gear at my house, and that shit's HEAVY. That plus rock climbing equipment would tire even the strongest soldiers out after awhile. We're in an urban environment, so you can safely ditch the rock climbing gear, if you want to. If you want to keep it, that's fine too, it's your character after all. Just remember, that's like 30 pounds of gear all together.

Hope this helps. : )

Also, to everyone else, I've read all your sheets, and they all rock out loud. Raven, awe, and Misu, you are all approved, and may post your RP posts.

To kick things off, let's check in with Xavier!))

______________________________

drip......drip......drip.......

"C'mon....stop bleeding!" said Xavier softly to the laceration extending up his forearm. He moped up the blood trail going down to his elbow, then applied more pressure on the cut. He raised his arm up a few inches higher, and sighed in frustration when more blood trickled down his arm and dripped onto the church floor.

Wincing in pain, he squeezed harder on the cloth he was using to staunch the bleeding. The flow of blood began to slow, and he leaned back and sighed. He closed his eyes and thought back to what had happened only days ago....

The initial infection was unnoticed at first. Just a last hurrah of cold and flu season it was written off as. For two days, the city lightly suffered, until the deaths began. It wasn't much at first, the elderly, the young, people with advanced AIDS were the first to go. Again, no one thought much of it, until healthy people in the prime of their lives began to literally drop dead with no warning. The Department of Health and Human Services came into town, worried about some new sort of deadly influenza. Those fears were put to rest when the first zombie rose from his body bag and bit the HHS doctor in full view of Deadlock City hospital staff. Within two hours, every victim of the virus had arisin, and those newly infected were turning into zombies themselves within six hours of initial infection.

It was chaos. The police were overwhelmed in hours, the military was called in, set up checkpoints to contain the infection. They managed, but Deadlock City had a population of five million. Any concentrated zombie attack would destroy any military outpost. All attempts to send in units ended in failure. Eventually, the army stopped trying to find any survivors, and just watched and waited...

Xavier opened his eyes, and checked his wound. "Fucking finally," he muttered, cracking open the first aid kit and reaching for a bandage. He carefully wrapped his arm up, tore the bandage with his teeth, and taped it into place. He moved his arm experimentally, and nodded.

<Should hold up, assuming I don't do anything too stupid,> he thought, <Now, I need to get outta the city. I've heard more than one building collapse today, God knows how many road are blocked with->

*SMASH* "What the-?!" *THUMP* "Oh shit...." Xavier looked up, hearing slow footsteps on the balcony above him.

"One of them...or a person? If I stay here, and it's a person, they might die, if I go, and it's one of those things, at least I can run away.....Shee-it!" he swore, before slowly getting up, nursing his forearm. He carefully reached across his chest and flicked on his light. The stark, white light lit up a large, bobbing arc in front of his, as he made his way across the church floor, to the stairs. He looked up them, swallowed thickly, then slowly made his way up them.

"Hello?" he called out tentatively, "Is anyone alive?" No response, the footsteps didn't even break stride. He looked to his right, and saw a figure, dragging its leg behind itself, making its way slowly towards the front of the church.

"Hey, buddy!" Xavier called out, "You, okay?" he began to jog across the balconey, "I've got a...FUCK!" he yelled out as his flashlight illuminated the shambling figure. The vacant stare, grey skin, and non-bleeding, but gaping neck wounds told Xavier that he was beyond saving. He was one of them.

"No....a zombie?! Fuck this...fuck this!" Xavier began backing up slowly and was about to turn and run when his flashlight caught something metallic at the zombie's waist. A gun.

"Oh fuck....Christ!" Now Xavier had a problem. He knew he wouldn't survive the street without a gun, but he couldn't take the gun with the zombie still walking around..."Need something heavy...preferably long....Yes!" Xavier looked at the smashed window frame, and took hold of a rebar that was heavily rusted, and holding on by just a thread. He pulled, it didn't budge an inch.

"Fuck!" he yanked harder, nothing. The zombie was five meters away.

"Jesus Christ, c'mon you fucker!" he pulled again, and he felt something give. Three meters.

"C'MON!!" He gave the thing an almighty wrench and it came loose. The sudden shift in balance almost caused Xavier to lose his footing, and he nearly fell into the zombie's arms. As it reached out to grab his arm, Xavier pulled the rebar back and batted at the thing's torso. It was knocked back, regained its balance and began to walk forward again.

"You've gotta be shitting me! That would....How did....NO!!" The zombie grabbed Xavier by his injured forearm, and began to bring its mouth to his arm. Xavier gripped the rebar like a javilin, and rammed it into its skull. There was a cracking sound, and it crumpled to the floor and stopped moving. Xavier breathed deeply, trying to keep from vomiting. He stared at the gun at the waist of the zombie cop, and slowly moved towards it. He bent down, undid the snap, and pulled it loose. He moved to the other side, and searched for extra clips. Finding one extra one, he slid the extra one into a spare pocket of his overcoat, and checked the mag in the gun.

"Fully loaded. Poor bastard didn't even get off a shot before he was killed. Sorry pal, hope this brings me better luck than you." Xavier ran a hand over his hair, and noticed that he was still shaking like a leaf. He went back downstairs, and laid back on a pew, trying to calm his heartrate, as he knew shooting a zombie in the head when one was shaking like he was on crystal meth would only waste ammo, and endanger his life.

((So yeah, that's how I RP! Over to whoever wants to contribute anything! May the fun begin. : D ))

((Next up is Misu to bat))

"Get out of my fucking head" Warren fell to his knees in a fit of rage, fear and panic. His eyes were clenched tightly shut as the moaning of those already deceased and those soon to be deceased echoed through the building as well as his mind .
Heavy foot steps clambered up the stairs towards the roof where Warren and two others rested, seemingly left with no other options they waited for the inevitable.
"Get out of my head". Tears started to form and run down Warren's cheeks as the moaning grew louder, shrieks and screams escaped the mouths of the two others stranded atop the roof.
"What the hell are we mean't to do?"
"I will not become one of those, i would rather die"

Warren slowly opened his eyes and stared upon the two bickering men, one dressed in scrubs and the other drenched in blood. Through teary eyes, the young man could see the fear within them. What they had already witnessed in one day should never be seen in an entire lifetime. The wards of Richmond hospital were bloodier than the somme and more dangerous than the empty streets of Baghdad, they were filled with nothing but bloody beds, scattered equipment and mutilated bodies.
Warren carefully raised himself from the gravel and walked to the edge, the city was filled with the sounds of anarchy and full scale disaster. Without looking ,Warren addressed the two men.
"Deadlock's in anarchy, do yourselves a favour and jump. There's little chance of getting of this roof alive"

The two men judged the situation just as the glass window located on the door shattered behind them, Warren turned away from the edge and stared at the ground near the door. The BoneSaw glimmered in the bright sunlight a few feet away. Warren cared not for what the others did, all he knew was that he was going to prove his life was not wasted.

Wiping the tears from his face, he reached down and grabbed hold of the bonesaw. Carefully he ran the blade across the bandana, it was neatly sliced in two. A weak smile appeared upon the distressed mans face but it was quickly covered up by the doctors mask. Taking one last look at his hands, Warren prepared for what could well be the journy to his death. The door creaked as the creatures behind it continued to push, Warren's blue eyes stared upon the lone bloody handprint which coated the outside of the door. It was not his blood and therefore it did not matter. He muttered words of confidence behind the white mask.
"I fear you not creatures, for I can only fear death itself and you are simply a creation of death."

The door started to buckle, Warren raised his weapon ready. He was unaware if two pairs of eyes watched him from behind or if they had made the smart decision and ended it before it started, he didn't care. His only focus was the door and what rested behind it.
"I shall not fear you"
The door eventually gave way and the occupants that had been sealed within were released. Their bloody bodies shuffled towards Warren with lust for his flesh.
"You shall feast only on silver today"
Warren clenched his fists tight and raised the saw. With adrenaline pumping through his working body, the survivor lunged forward with saw in hand.

As Warren lunged so did the undead that wished for his flesh, Warren acted fast and sliced those closest to him. As an ocassional body fell, Warren was that much closer to the door and his only escape that did not end in certain death. Fighting with all his might, the survivor pushed free of the mob and ran for the door narrowly dodging the bloodied hands that so wished for him.
Running his fastest, Warren jumped and kicked the disfigured body of a nurse to the ground. The body rested in a heap at the bottom of the stair, Warren wasted no time in following.
Jumping steps two at a time, Warren made his way to the Accident and Emergency ward. Pushing free of the emergency exit, he closed the door and barred it shut. Staring into the horrors of what the ward contained, Warren stepped back.

The ward was scattered with shuffling figures, each eager for fresh meat. An old woman in a robe shuffled forward, much of her face missing and her bony hands stretched to their fullest. Warren clenched his fists and swung for all his might. The old figure was forced to the ground, its face shattered. Warren raised his foot and moved it over the quivering body.
"Consider this mercy"
His foot collided with the skull, a loud crunch echoed through the ward. Warren turned his attention once again to the rest of the ward, walking slowly forward he journeyed through the hospital.

His fight had only just begun.

((Well thats my first part))

Xavier awoke with a start and was on his feet in a split second. He hadn't noticed he'd nodded off again, and was suddenly on his feet and completely alert from a loud *CLUNK*. He looked at his feet, and saw that his newly acquired pistol had fallen to the ground while he was sleeping and hit a small piece of debris.

He bent over, and picked up his gun. He carefully put on the safety before sticking it in a spare pocket of his cargo pants. Wincing in pain, he arched backwards and felt something crack as it protested at being moved. His stomach gave off a sudden growl, and he was suddenly, acutely aware of how hungry he was. Rubbing absently at his abodmen, Xavier realized that he had already scoured the entire church and rectory three times, and hadn't found anything to eat. He found some bottled water before, but that was long gone.

Xavier started picking his way across the church floor to the main doors. He stopped and looked back at the ruined church. In the evening twilight, it looked...peaceful, even with half the roof caved in from God-knows-what. For luck, Xavier quickly crossed himself, then pulled out his gun and took a deep breath.

"Okay....I can do this." he said to himself quietly, "I'm just going up the street to get some groceries. Nothing I haven't done before, except now I have to shoot anyone who gets in my way. Perfect! And this isn't helping at all, damn!" He heaved a sigh, "Fuckit, I'm dead if I stay here, and the only way out is forward." He put his hand on the doorknob, and stepped outside.

Walking down the cracked steps, Xavier looked to his riht, and say with dismay that an overturned bus and several dozen cars had sompletely blocked the street. And several of the things were in the way to boot. Looking to his left, Xavier saw a huge building with the characteristic large, blue "H" on top, signifying it was a hospital. Moving closer at a brisk run, he passed the parking lot sign reading, "Richmond Hospital ER Room Parking."

"Hospital! It should have food, and maybe I can actually bandage my arm up properly!" And with that, Xavier made for the entrance to the Richmond Hospital ER.

(( if anybody wants my character to be at there location say it and I'll begin my roleplay part there))

Name: Hunter, Spiltrock

Age: 27

Current Location: ?

Weapons: katana, "blinding" camera.

Other Equipment:backpack, his pet falcon "named Talon", survival kit, custom headset.

Physical Description/Clothing: he wears a black scruffy backpack with a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, dark red spiky unkept hair that comes down to the middle of his neck

Personality: calm and quiet seems to have somewhat of a split personality that when the situation is dangerous can be a bit psycho and foolish.

Character background: Before the outbreak he was a photographer. He used to find joy in making his own cameras. He also managed to combine his love of his pet falcon, and his love of photography by making his bird a camera that was lightweight and latched on to Talon, so he could take live streaming videos of a view from his bird to his custom headset. A week before the outbreak he was visiting his best friend in japan who was into crafting swords and gave his best one to Hunter. He returned home to his home in Deadlock but the plane he was on was hit by a missile and came to a crash near a military bunker near Deadlock Hunter was one of the only surviver's.

At 2/8/09 04:09 AM, angryglacier wrote: (( if anybody wants my character to be at there location say it and I'll begin my roleplay part there))

((It's completely up to you. You can start with anybody you want, or on your own, it's your call, mate.))

Name: Hunter, Spiltrock

Age: 27

Current Location: ?

Weapons: katana, "blinding" camera.

Other Equipment:backpack, his pet falcon "named Talon", survival kit, custom headset.

Physical Description/Clothing: he wears a black scruffy backpack with a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, dark red spiky unkept hair that comes down to the middle of his neck

Personality: calm and quiet seems to have somewhat of a split personality that when the situation is dangerous can be a bit psycho and foolish.

Character background: Before the outbreak he was a photographer. He used to find joy in making his own cameras. He also managed to combine his love of his pet falcon, and his love of photography by making his bird a camera that was lightweight and latched on to Talon, so he could take live streaming videos of a view from his bird to his custom headset. A week before the outbreak he was visiting his best friend in japan who was into crafting swords and gave his best one to Hunter. He returned home to his home in Deadlock but the plane he was on was hit by a missile and came to a crash near a military bunker near Deadlock Hunter was one of the only surviver's.

((Everything is good except for the weapons. We used to ban swords, but I'm going to allow swords in the RP...for now. It's just that before, people were abusing the weapons list and trying to wield shit from Halo and Final Fantasy.

The only beef I have is the camera thing. If you mean you're trying to blind the zombies, that's not gonna work, because they're zombies, and don't feel any pain. You can have a camera, but it's not going to hurt anybody.

So yeah, just choose a location, and I think you're good to go. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I'm always happy to help the new guys.

Welcome to the RP, hop in at any time after you've picked a location.))

At 2/8/09 04:09 AM, angryglacier wrote: (( if anybody wants my character to be at there location say it and I'll begin my roleplay part there))

Name: Hunter, Spiltrock

Age: 27

Current Location: ?

Weapons: katana, "blinding" camera.

Other Equipment:backpack, his pet falcon "named Talon", survival kit, custom headset.

Physical Description/Clothing: he wears a black scruffy backpack with a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, dark red spiky unkept hair that comes down to the middle of his neck

Personality: calm and quiet seems to have somewhat of a split personality that when the situation is dangerous can be a bit psycho and foolish.

Character background: Before the outbreak he was a photographer. He used to find joy in making his own cameras. He also managed to combine his love of his pet falcon, and his love of photography by making his bird a camera that was lightweight and latched on to Talon, so he could take live streaming videos of a view from his bird to his custom headset. A week before the outbreak he was visiting his best friend in japan who was into crafting swords and gave his best one to Hunter. He returned home to his home in Deadlock but the plane he was on was hit by a missile and came to a crash near a military bunker near Deadlock Hunter was one of the only surviver's.

((Just a couple of questions, thats a bit of an unusual name isn't it?, strangest i've ever heard and i've heard some pretty strange ones and secondly, Whats with the pet falcon?. Considering the facts that the RPG is based in a highly populated city, is it likely you'll have a pet falcon? i'm just curious because birds of prey don't make fantastic pets from what i've heard.))

At 2/8/09 12:12 PM, Blue-Dragon wrote:
The only beef I have is the camera thing. If you mean you're trying to blind the zombies, that's not gonna work, because they're zombies, and don't feel any pain. You can have a camera, but it's not going to hurt anybody.

((I know that they don't feel pain but it is the equivalent of a flash grenade if there blind they can't see if they can't see they can't kill very well and have to really on smell and hearing. To the sword thing I replace the sword with a shotgun. Also to the person who said something about the bird Im just going to take out that bird.))

((I will Now begin in the hospital))

oh my head, were am I... uhh Sudden realization made his eyes flutter open, he looked around shocked, the room he was in was not the plane he was in. He saw that he was in a hospital bed with a heart beat monitter strapped to him, two dim lights were flickering in the small white room. He looked at the clipboard by his bed it read:

current patient status: brain dead burn the body to make sure the outbreak doesn't spread to the patient

Hunter pried off the suction cups on his chest and head. Got up and immediately tryied to pry open the door but found it was locked from the outside.

Hunter pounded on the door no answer came. He decided to look around the room there wasn't much but he noticed a black backpack hung in the corner of the room by a metal claw. In the other corner lay a few sheets and a table, Hunter pulled of the sheets and recoiled at the sight he saw, there was a body that had a doctor's uniform on clutched a tattered journal. Hunter picked up the journal and wiped the dust of it, he opened it and looked at the first page:

If you are reading this you have found my body in this room. If you are the patient that had the blanket pulled over you and you were alive all this time I'll tell you what had happened while you were in a coma. The town is overrun by zombies, I don't know how but I do know that NEVER ALLOW YOURSELF TO GET BITTEN. I managed to get a hold on a specimen, and have recorded my data on this journal, also I have managed to make a "anti venom" for this decease it only has a time frame of 10 seconds so if you apply it after 10 seconds it will not work. Also it can only cure most of it you will still feel symptoms

Hunter took the case of anti zombification needles, stuffed them in his backpack, took anything else of the doctors possessions including a shotgun. Lay down on the bed and waited for anything to unlock that door.

At 2/8/09 06:58 PM, angryglacier wrote:

If you are reading this you have found my body in this room. If you are the patient that had the blanket pulled over you and you were alive all this time I'll tell you what had happened while you were in a coma. The town is overrun by zombies, I don't know how but I do know that NEVER ALLOW YOURSELF TO GET BITTEN. I managed to get a hold on a specimen, and have recorded my data on this journal, also I have managed to make a "anti venom" for this decease it only has a time frame of 10 seconds so if you apply it after 10 seconds it will not work. Also it can only cure most of it you will still feel symptoms

Hunter took the case of anti zombification needles, stuffed them in his backpack, took anything else of the doctors possessions including a shotgun. Lay down on the bed and waited for anything to unlock that door.

((Damm, that was quick to make an anti virus, when we did the original story we were writing for at least half a year before someone came up the idea of a cure. You've taken a big gamble there so i hope you have some good ideas which wont damage the story))

At 2/9/09 08:15 AM, Misumena wrote:

At 2/8/09 06:58 PM, angryglacier wrote:

((Damm, that was quick to make an anti virus, when we did the original story we were writing for at least half a year before someone came up the idea of a cure. You've taken a big gamble there so i hope you have some good ideas which wont damage the story))

((Don't worry it only can be applied after 10 seconds, and all it fix's is the death part.))

At 1/29/09 08:18 PM, Blue-Dragon wrote: ((Well folks, let's revive this sumbitch shall we? Please consider this the brand new OP of this thread.))

((Well hell yeah!

Name: Duran Volkeff
Age: 19
Current Location: Unconscious in Richmond Hospital's utility closet (for the sake of getting in the story quicker)
Weapons: None
Other Equipment: None
Physical Description/Clothing:
5'11" and 130 Lbs, non-muscular build
Blood-stained white T-shirt
Bloodied black jeans
Personality: Quiet
Character background: Duran grew up in a very abusive family until he was 17 when he ran away. One of his friends took him in off the street and started helping him and his father in criminal activities.

. . . and there we are! I've needed a reason to come back to Newgrounds, and this is it. Yay.

At 2/8/09 04:09 AM, angryglacier wrote: Weapons: katana,

((SLAP IS ANGRY, SLAP MUST SMASH.))

((Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. Nice to see you again Slap))

Warren staggered through a pool of fresh blood, his once white shoes were now covered in the blood of others. His breathing was heavy as a trail of bloody prints followed behind his slow walk through the Accident and Emergency ward.
His eyes darted left and right judging every body, piece of equipment and supplies of any relative use. Equipment was scattered across beds, desks and the cold floor, needles gleamed in the flickering lights of the hospital ward and the slow moaning of the undescribable horrors within the hospital bounced off the walls and echoed, they pierced Warrens fragile mind. Grasping hold of his head, Warren tried to focus.

The squeaking of wheels brought Warren from his thoughts, quickly he stared down the nightmarish ward. He quickly found what was making the squeaking noise. A lifeless figure was shuffling down the ward, in its bloody hand was a drip stand and the drip cable still attatched in its arm. Blood squirted from the other side of its torso, where an arm used to be there was a bony stump but nothing else. Warren stared to the side of him and spied an empty bed, instinctivly he grabbed it and wheeled ot down the ward towards the walking corpse.
Just before reaching the figure, Warren released his grip on the bed, it quickly slammed into the figure and skidded into the wall crushing the undead patient. A weak smile crept across Warrens face but quickly disappeared after realising that he'd just alerted nearly every walking corpse of his presence.
From the end of the ward, one corspe appeared and then another before there was half a dozen then double that. The numbers continued to grow, Warren stepped back in shock as the small horde approached.
"Dammit, this is not good. Where's a S.W.A.T team when you need one?"

Warren slipped in the pool of blood he originally walked through and fell to the ground. Scrambling to his feet, the undead were not far behind.
"SHIT!!"
Warren was left with one option, hide in one of the private rooms. Slipping again but quickly regaining his balance, Warren dived into a room to his left, locked the door and placed a metal chair under the handle. He waited for the horde to approach the door and they were not ones to dissapoint. Bloody hands whacked against the small glass window, Warren stared unknowing of what he was to do next.

Name:James Castanza
Age:22
Current Location:Office
Weapons:None
Other Equipment:Car keys
Physical Description/Clothing:6ft-average body type, Black 'chino's' black suit jacket, white shirt
Personality:Inquizitive
Character background: A 'regular' guy, with a job he doesn't like and earning just enough money to get by

((What is up? I actually might return this time ;D))

At 2/12/09 12:01 PM, Misumena wrote:

Warren was left with one option, hide in one of the private rooms. Slipping again but quickly regaining his balance, Warren dived into a room to his left, locked the door and placed a metal chair under the handle. He waited for the horde to approach the door and they were not ones to dissapoint. Bloody hands whacked against the small glass window, Warren stared unknowing of what he was to do next.

"Who are you!!!" Hunter yelled pointing his shotgun at the figure in front of him.

At 2/12/09 07:32 PM, angryglacier wrote: "Who are you!!!" Hunter yelled pointing his shotgun at the figure in front of him.

((. . . that could have been longer.))

At 2/12/09 12:01 PM, Misumena wrote: ((Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. Nice to see you again Slap))

((Physical Therapy suuuuuucks dick. Glad it's over.))

((Oh, and my character sheet was incomplete. . so:

Physical Description/Clothing:
5'11" and 130 Lbs, non-muscular build
Dark blond hair (dirty blonde, wtf ever you call it)
Blood-stained white T-shirt
Bloodied black jeans
Construction work boots.

There. And now. . .))

Duran found himself staring into darkness for the most part, save for a dimly lit emergency light. He felt a strange tickle in his ribs. <a lright. . . it's dark and I've been hurt. . > Duran thought as he gently grabbed at the tickle. His shirt was wet and damp. <Stabbed?> He lifted his shirt up and felt his naked stomach. <No wound to speak of. . .> Duran looked around the room he was laying in. <How'd I wind up here?> Duran thought. He didn't come up with an answer. Something outside the door fell against it and let out a moan. An empty moan that made Duran's mind suddenly sharpen.

Hospital.
Zombies.
Friends dead.

<Fucking shit!> Duran scrambled to his feet, his ribs screaming out in pain as he did so. Ignoring the pain Duran scanned the room for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. The only thing Duran finds is a broom. <Fuck, I need help.> Duran thinks as he holds the broom like a battle axe, daring the door to open.

At 2/13/09 10:41 AM, Slapdamonkeyaz wrote:

At 2/12/09 07:32 PM, angryglacier wrote: "Who are you!!!" Hunter yelled pointing his shotgun at the figure in front of him.

((. . . that could have been longer.))

((Yeah forget what I said Im remaking what happened))
Hunter stared wide eyes at the sight before him zombies were smashing there arms against his door. His adrenaline spiked, he propped up his shotgun, pumped it, and waited till his door came down. "Somebody must of caused those zombies to go berserk. Looks like I still got hope." The door finally came down as zombies tried to rush in, but weren't quick enough to avoid the blast coming from Hunter's shotgun. Fear crept over his body, more were coming he grabbed the BPM monitor besides him and threw it at the door followed by flinging the sugar water right wen the zombie crashed into the monitor. Hunter quickly pumped his shot gun a second time and fired at the next crowd coming through his door. He retreated before any more came, he found a crowd of zombies by a door and fired two times to clear them then he burst in to the door closed it and found a person in the emergency ward bed.

((Assuming that wasn't me you weren't talking about glacier (I'm in a closet, so I assume such), I'mma continue.))

Several more zombies, or at least what Duran assumed to be zombies, started pushing on the door. <a lright alright alright shit shit shit> Duran's mind and heart raced as the moans grew louder. <I have a broom and I'm not Jackie Chan. Shit shit shit. . . > Duran looked around the room more, hoping to find something metal. More desperate for meat, the zombies started pounding and clawing at the door. Without thinking, something Duran rarely does, he grabbed a half-empty metallic shelf and threw it on the ground. Stomping until a metal bar gave way, the door buckled and fell nearly onto Duran. Resisting the urge to scream and piss himself, Duran stabbed the broom at the zombies, only knocking one out of maybe six that came at him. Grabbed by an old man, Duran lets out a scream. Bringing his knee up as hard as he can, he smashes the old man's jaw shut as he moved in for a bite. Thrown off balance, the old man lets go of his death grip and steps back, stumbling over the fallen shelf and toppling over himself and taking out the other zombies. Not wasting a moment to breathe, Duran hurdles over them and runs.

Slipping into another empty closest, Duran sinks to the ground and breathes deep. His ribs scream at him, speaking words unknown to man. <My god, was I hit by a car?> Duran asked himself, trying to breathe as much and little as possible. The adrenaline was wearing down and his focus was fading quickly. Duran tries to remember what happened before he woke up and fails. With his lungs content and his ribs still angry, he slowly stands up. Even in his state of mild confusion, he came up with two ideas. Either find someone who isn't already dead in the hospital, or leave and hope the situation gets better. Quickly dismissing the second idea, Duran pokes his head out of the closet door. As if on cue, two shotgun rounds ring loud over the faint moans of zombies. <May as well head that way.> Duran thinks, limping out into the hallway and toward where the shotgun fired.

Hunter peered at the body before him. It was definitly dead infact it's curent condition was to injured to be infected, or if it was infected it would be a horrid sight. Hunter managed to resist the urge to throw up in the janitors bucket beside him. Hunter looked around the room for anything salvageable, he found some rations and placed them in his backpack. He then looked at the closet in the room, right when he opened it a zombie sprang out and tried to go for Hunter's brains, Hunter uppercut the zombie to keep it of then he tried to get to his shotgun but was pinned to the ground by his attacker.

((Holy crap! Slap AND LordSkeletor are back in action! Fucking sweet. That's all I can say. I'm honestly exceedingly happy to see you too back. Skeletor, you can join in and stuff.

Also, I assume we're all at Richmond Hospital?))

-rattle rattle-

"Oh fuck you, doors!" snapped Xavier, pushing and pulling fruitlessly against the entrance to the ER waiting room. "Open the hell up!"

-rattle rattle....snap-

"Fuck of a bitch!" he sighed, holding the broken doorknob in his hand. He twisted it side to side, idly examining it. Deciding that it was a lost cause to try and repair, Xavier tossed it to the side. Peering through the small hole where the knob used to be, Xavier tried to see inside the room. What little light was trickling in painted a sad picture. Chairs were overturned, paper and other assorted debris was scattered everywhere. Blood was spattered across the floor, the walls, and lumpy sheets that covered what Xavier was quite sure was dead bodies.

Pulling away from the door, Xavier decided that it was safe to be a little more forceful. Taking several steps back, he rushed forward and slammed his shoulder into the door near to the frame. He bounced off like he had taken a dive onto concrete.

"Ow...." he groaned, holding his now-bruised shoulder. Looking up at the door, he now saw a small sign reading, "FIRE DOOR! Keep this door closed at ALL TIMES!" Meaning the fucker was solid as a rock, and there was no way he was getting through that door short of a rocket launcher.

Flipping the bird to the door, Xavier spun on his heel and headed for the stairs. Pausing to read a guide on the wall, he decided to make for the Trauma ward. It would have medical supplies that could deal with his sliced up arm, and possibly painkillers, as his hurt shoulder was starting to protest quite loudly. Heading up the stairs, he wondered why it was so quiet in the hospital.

Then logic clicked in. He realized with mounting horror that any zombie on the ground floor would have wandered off by now. Any zombies left would have no fresh prey to lure them outside, and would likely still be inside the hospital. Especially if the hospital had been quarentined. Sure enough, when Xavier reached the third floor, he found that the door had been barracaded and labelled prominently with red biohazard symbols. A written warning threatened anybody leaving the hospital unauthorized could be shot on sight by police.

With mounting apprehension, Xavier entered the dark hallway. The lights unceasingly flickered, and Xavier could here more than one zombie around. Turning a corner, he realized "more than one" was an understatement. There was at least ten of them down this hallway alone. Some were medical staff, others patients, and the rest were just normal people. At least....that's what they used to be. Pulling his gun out, Xavier beat a hasty retreat. Turning down the other corridor, he hurried forward, when a new sound shocked him so bad he nearly tripped.

*BLAM*....*BLAM*

"Shotgun blasts? Oh God...a survivor?!" Xavier muttered to himself.

*THUMP* "Ah shit!" A voice! "HELP ME! Fer Chrissake! HELP!!"

"Fuckfuckshitshit, where is he, where is he?!" said Xavier, sprinting down the hallway, towards the sound of muffled thumping. Skidding to a stop by a blocked door with the glass window smashed, Xavier peered in to see a man being held to the ground by one of the bastards. The man was holding the zombie by the neck to stop from being bitten, but the undead monster was steadily inching closer.

Xavier raised his gun and took a deep breath. If he missed, he and the man would be toast, as one shot would alert any zombie in the area. Aiming down the sights, he screamed, "HEY ASSHOLE!"

He didn't expect it to work, but the zombie turned its head to look at the newcomer. Xavier seized the chance and fired a round clean into the zombie's forehead. It slumped to the ground, and the man scrambled to his feet.

He turned towards Xavier, "I don't know how to-" A sudden chrous of moans erupted beside Xavier. He looked over to see at least a dozen zombies marching towards his position, having been alerted by the scream and gunshot.

Xavier looked over, "Thank me later. Get outta there and meet me in the Trauma ward. It's on the South side. Room Five. Go!" And with that, Xavier turned and sprinted full out down the corridor.

((That was you glacier.))

At 2/13/09 08:41 PM, Blue-Dragon wrote: ((Holy crap! Slap AND LordSkeletor are back in action! Fucking sweet. That's all I can say. I'm honestly exceedingly happy to see you too back.))

((Daww, you're makin' me blush. :3))

<Gunshot. . . not shotgun.> Duran thought, stopping his limping progress. Moans rose into an ominous choir and Duran heart beat twice as fast as before. <I either ru-. . . limp. . . away or I limp towards the sounds of doom.> Duran didn't have to think twice. Surviving by himself in his current state would be impossible or close to it, and living was something he wanted to do. Quickly walking, Duran tried to call out "Wait for me!" but nothing came out. This was confusing and scary. He tried again. His voice was non-responsive. <Dammit, talk!> Duran demanded his mouth. Once again, nothing came out except what sounded much like the moans the zombies have patented. <Shouldn't do that. Reeeally shouldn't do that.> Duran stopped his voice. He turned a corner to the backs of several zombies, unaware he was there. He started to back away slowly, praying one didn't turn and look. Something grabbed his foot and he tripped, making his presence known by both the crash of his body and his audible "Cunt-licker!".

Bad timing to learn to talk again.

Every zombie turned and set their eyes on Duran. Duran scrambled to his feet, tripped (once again with another "Cunt-licker!"), and got back to his feet. He did his best run and ran toward the gunshots. . . or at least. The trip confused him, made him dizzy and the fact that several zombies were after him didn't help the situation. Up became left and down became right and his ribs felt like broken glass. Duran round one corner after another until he tripped again, this time smashing his face on the tile of the Hospital. The edges of his vision faded black and his mind dulled. Something grabbed his arm and Duran tried to fight it off, but with no luck. Whatever had grabbed him had him good.