IC The Waiting Game

[Naoh]

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[BCOLOR=transparent]The year is 2026. A medical breakthrough has brought a new age of surgery upon the world, genetically engineered surgery insects. Through nanotechnology, scientists have given the newly discovered ultratiny grub-like species a higher intelligence, ability to survive in the human body, higher strength, and trained them to receive orders from scientists to perform various surgeries. However, due to their advanced intelligence, the Pusermites (an informal term for [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]pusillus vermis[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent], literally “tiny grub” in Latin) have adapted and developed parasitic tendencies. They began to latch onto the brains of patients and analyzed some nerve impulses to gain control of the body. However, their sense of touch and pain is dysfunctional. The Pusermites took control of humans and turned the bodies into zombie-like creatures, turning on the humans. They reproduce by laying their eggs in the saliva of the human body, so a bite from a Pusermite will cause eggs to hatch in the infected body and take control of the brain. The backfire of the mass-produced surgical bugs immediately threw the world into chaos. People died and became infected left and right. The apocalypse took hold of the whole world in a mere 3 days.[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]Flash forward to about a half year later. Most of the world is now infected. The remaining survivors have exhausted their brains trying to find a way to get rid of all the zombies for good. Then, after lots of strenuous testing and estimation, a small group of scientists come to the conclusion that because of the Pusermites’ inability to sense pain and touch, they are unable to know when the body is decaying. They estimate that it takes about 27-29 days for a Pusermite body to decay fully and die without feeding. The discovery is passed on to as many survivors as possible. To rid the world of the zombies forever, nobody must become infected for the 27-29 day period.[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]The Waiting Game has begun.[/BCOLOR]

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[BCOLOR=transparent]If you have something particularly “ground breaking” that would change the plot line a lot, talk to me about it first. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]You can’t control others’ actions. If you are going to interact with another character, talk to them. Forum PM, Steam, whatever. Just make sure that both parties know what’s going to happen.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]The zombies can run much faster than normal people can, but have fairly low control of their body. They don’t use their hands, mostly their head. They are also attracted to sound more than sight. Their appearance is very much the same as other humans, save for their movements, and pale skin.[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent] Please avoid from making zombies do something different from the behavior I have set for them. If you [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]do [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]want them to change for something particular, like I said, contact me. [/BCOLOR]

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Blake - S_swimmer
Chris - Naoh
Arin - NovaCat
Fredrik - Enderfive
Riley - Toiletprincess
Ash - Snarky_Wondermuffin
Kaes - Timdood3

[BCOLOR=transparent]BIG THANKS TO S_swimmer FOR PUTTING OUR IDEAS INTO WORDS[/BCOLOR]

 

[Hunter]

[BCOLOR=transparent][A medical breakthrough has brought a new age of surgery upon the world, genetically engineered surgery insects.][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][can i be the hivemind i want to be the hivemind][/BCOLOR]

 

[Naoh]

"Hello? Is anyone out there?" A nearby radio was still receiving a signal, and a strange almost childlike voice was broadcasting over it. "Helloooooo? Oh, what am I thinking- you can't reply back. Uh, if you can hear this, you should come visit the radio station here in Rockford. I repeat, Rockford Illinois. I have supplies, and loads of food and water. I'm going to keep broadcasting to anyone who can hear me. I'm broadcasting in Rockford Illinois. I have supplies..."

****************
The time is night.
Day 1
****************

 

[S_swimmer]

Blake was going out for another routine area check when he saw it. A group of the bastards had descended upon a corpse and began feeding. He watched their fingers tear into the flesh and rip out chunks, blood cascading from the open wound. He watched their hungry yellow teeth sink down on the meat and rip it to shreds. Before he knew it, tears had began trickling down his face. In a fit of sorrow, he ran back to his hideout. He took his knife and went to the chipped concrete wall. Furiously, he crossed out the 19 tally marks and wrote a huge, menacing 1. After that, he let the knife fall from his hands as he rested his back against the wall, slowly sank down to his knees and covered his face in his hands.

Suddenly, the radio Blake built began to make static noises. Jumping up, he rushed over to it and grabbed it in both hands, staring at it as if it were his only treasure. After a couple more seconds of static that felt like an eternity, words became audible. "H... o? ...h, what am I thinking, you can't r....y back. Uh, if you can hear this, you should come visit the radio station here in Rockford. I r....t, Rockford Illinois. I have supplies, and loads of food and water. I'm going to keep broadcasting to anyone who can hear me. I'm broadcasting in Rockford Illinois. I have supplies..."

The words I have supplies resounded within Blake. He could tell by the tone - especially by the childlike qualities in the mysterious boy's voice - that he was at least a little trustworthy. He looked up the hill and through the black, thundering clouds of the night. There, Blake could see it: the radio tower. It was a long ways away, but if he ran stealthily and calculated his moves, he should've been able to survive making it. He ran his hands down his legs, smoothing out his white lab coat that billowed in the wind. With one finger, he adjusted his thick-framed glasses. He gathered his things and threw them into his backpack, putting his arms through one strap, then the other. Finally, Blake grabbed his shotgun and slung it over his shoulder. When everything was ready, he began his ascent.

The lightning cast ominous, starkly white light onto the houses and streets. Blake wildly flung his eyes left and right constantly as he dashed, looking for any signs of the Pusermites. Oh, how he longed to call them something simple like "parasites" - but his pride as a scientist didn't allow it. He realized his fatal mistake too late when he stepped onto a wooden porch while distracted in thought. It was a simple creak and thunk, but to Blake, it was as if it was an echoing siren. Confirming his fears, he looked up to see a Pusermite in the other end of the porch. It heard the footstep and whipped its head around in a 180. Growling, it opened its mouth, saliva dripping, and sprinted towards Blake.

He had less than a moment to assess the surrounding. The front porch of the small, broken-down wooden house was barred off by a fence and well-spaced support poles. The windows were broken, shards of glass scattered across the floor, in large and small pieces. He accidentally put his knife in his backpack – he was getting too comfortable. With a nod, he knew what to do.

The parasite was upon him in seconds. Blake took two steps forward to gain momentum, and then he'd his arm straight out to the side. Latching his hand onto a wooden support beam, he pulled himself into it not a moment too soon. The parasite ran past in its blind charge, and Blake swung around on the pole. Landing on his feet, he ran towards the zombie and grabbed a large piece of glass. With his other hand, he grabbed the top of the Pusermite's skull and held it back as he sent the glass into his neck and watched it poke out the other end, red-tipped and spewing blood. With his hand still firmly around the zombie's skull, Blake smashed it down through the wooden floor and into the pavement below. He felt a satisfying crumble beneath his palm. Panting, he rose back up and pivoted on his feet. Blake had not a moment to waste – he killed this one rather uncleanly, and others were sure to have heard him. Nodding to himself, Blake continued on his deathly run.

(( Will provide character bio later

This is my first zombie RP so I hope I do well nobody hesitate to tell me if I take it the wrong way

EDIT: You can tell in my sig, I've been making some badges for the RPs, feel free take them and add them to your signature if you want ))

 

[Toiletprincess]

Thunder rumbled and rang in her ears, bright flashes of light cut through the dark like knives and cast her face in shadow. She twisted her wrist, a sickening crack coming from the twitching body. Roughly, she stepped on the corpse and tugged her machete out , cleaning the sharp blade of it's gore-y contents on her pants. She huffed, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face as they stick to her sweaty skin. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, feeling blood and dirt smear across her cheek. The girl shoved her machete into her belt, turning to see two more of the fuckers wandering aimlessly around. "Fuckin' parasites," she muttered and moved silently into a low crouch. She made her way towards one of those large bins, stepping carefully and keeping down. Once she was close enough, she ran, breaking out into a sprint, leaping onto the bin and making a jump for the rooftop which she grasped and pulled herself up onto. She sat there briefly, surveying her surroundings before she spotted a large radio tower.

Exasperated, she pulled off her backpack and searched through it, pulling out a wireless radio she'd picked up a while back. "Hello?" She spoke into the radio, "Hello is anyone at the radio tower, Rockford Illinois?" She paused a few moments and pressed the button repeatedly, harder each time. "Fuck," she cursed, shaking the radio in frustration, "The microphone is fucking broken piece of shi-" As she was about the throw the radio off the roof, she heard a crackling, static sound, before words began forming briefly. She listened to the young, boyish voice and looked back up at the tower, contemplating. She crossed her legs, hesitant as she listened to the boy speak. She rifled through her bag for the little supplies she had left, swearing in anger before she picked up on exactly what she needed. The boy had supplies at the tower. She bit her lip and glanced at the tower, and back to the bag. Fuck it. I need supplies otherwise I'm going to die.

She brushed her long bangs from her eyes and slung the bag hurriedly over her shoulder. If I'm going to get there, I better get there first. No doubt others have heard the transmission too. She ran across the roof towards an overhanging tree and pulled herself into it's branches, climbing as far up as she could so she could map out her path quickly, preferrably without going on the ground. The brown-haired girl scanned the road to the tower briefly and begun to move on, using the tree to aid her onto the next roof. She needed those supplies.

 

[Fiestaguy]

((I'M GOING AS LEE FROM THE WALKING DEAD. Interesting. I'll look at this tonight and see if I'll join :3 ))

 

[Toiletprincess]

((I'M GOING AS LEE FROM THE WALKING DEAD. Interesting. I'll look at this tonight and see if I'll join :3 ))

((BUT BUT YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO HIM RIGHT))

 

[Fiestaguy]

((BUT BUT YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO HIM RIGHT))

((SHH, HE SHOULD'VE GOTTEN THE ENDING HE DESERVED.))

 

[NovaCat]

The closet is dark, Arin can see a light shining under the door. Something drags itself acrost the floor, blocking the light before moving on. She crouches against one of the walls, wrapping her arms around her legs. "H... o?... Am I th- can't reply...." Is that the radio? Arin turns her head to the closed door, something moans, and an icy chill runs down her spine. At least two more 'zombies' stumble into the room, attracted to the sound of the boys voice. "Visit.. -dio station.... I repeat Rockford Il-.... have supplys.... and water." The station breaks up and is replaced again by more static.

Time passes.


"Food..." She stirs, as her eyes get wide. When was the last time I ate? It was at least a day ago. She lets her arms drop silently to the ground. I have to get out of here and get to that station. She stands up and puts her ear to the door. After listening for a couple minutes with no sounds coming from the room, Arin pulls her knife out and cracks the door open.

A zombie smashes it's way threw the crack she made. Arin stumbles back as the zombie sprawls forward falling to the ground. Her eyes widen up, she trys to scream but no sound comes from her mouth. The creature turns it's twisted face to her, saliva hangs from it's mouth. It starts to stand up, Arin jumps at it instrinctivly plunging her knife through it's eye. Blood sprays out through the wound on to her face as she pulls the knife out and kicks it full in the chest. She stares at it's unmoving body. "Is it dead?" She walks over to it, and examines the corpse. Suddenly spasms rack it's body and it starts twisting around. She runs to the window and without looking back climbs up the fire escape.

Arin sits down, safe on the roof. "Oh no no no no no NO! This is not happening!" She clutches her head and rocks back and forth. She lays on her side, "what am I going to do?" She wonders aloud, and falls asleep.

 

[S_swimmer]

Blake never had a goal like this since the day he left Project Heilung. Every step was sure and unflinching. He bolted up the hill at blistering speeds, changing streets and moving out of Pusermites' lines of vision at a moment's notice. His moves were fluid again; he was constantly running as he hid and as he fought. He couldn't help but let a small smile crawl onto his lips. He finally felt his own age again.

At some point, during his constant scan of the area, his eyes picked up on a considerably large silhouette in front of the majestically large moon. Curious, he turned his head to the left and adjusted his eyes. There, lit up by moonlight and running towards the radio tower along the roofs, was a girl. A human girl. A survivor. Blake wanted to scream. She's going to get herself killed! He thinks frantically. She's in plain sight up there! Does she know they can climb? Blake almost begins to redirect his course towards her until he sees her face.

Set on her battle-hardened face was an expression of greed. She wasn't going to the radio tower to team up. She was going for supplies. Hundreds of scenarios flashed through Blake's head. She steals the supplies and runs away. She steals the supplies and kills the boy. She teams up with the boy and I, cooperating until she kills us and takes both our supplies. More and more "death flags" appeared. With realization, Blake gasped. At her current pace, the girl was running faster than him. She's going to make it before me. He made up his mind. He couldn't let her get to the tower.

Keeping his legs moving, Blake pulled his arms out of one of his backpack's straps. He reached around and groped for the second zipper. When he finally got hold of it, he pulled it open with two fingers and grabbed a ball out with the other three. He knew they would come in handy. He examined it one more time to make sure that the alarm inside was working and so was the timer. Looking up every so often to be aware of his surroundings, he set the red, digital numbers to 10. He made a mental apology to the girl. She looked like she'd been through a lot, but at this point, she would be too dangerous. With a deep breath, he set confidence in his eyes, clicked the trigger button, and, with all his might, hurled his judgement at the girl.

A timed noisemaker.

Blake kept the mental picture of it's trajectory the entire time. 09. He kept running, surveying his surroundings. He felt a twinge of guilt. 08. He shook his head, getting rid of the feeling. The deed was already done. 07. It was now soaring a comfortable distance away from Blake. He was no longer endangered by the beeps that came with every tick on the timer. 06. Blake looked through alleys and corridors, surveying the area beyond the line of houses. 05. Immediately, he flipped to the other side of the houses, dashing through the narrow alley, concealing himself behind them. The girl could no longer have seen him. 04. Blake was safe. There were no parasites in the new street. 03. By now, the beeps would've been within earshot of the girl. 02. She would've looked over and have seen a flash of the green numbers. 01. The fear would set in. She would gasp, immediately knowing that it was of some danger. Blake apologized. Even if she were to catch it now, it would be too late.

00.

The alarm resounded through the night air. The only response was a discording chorus of growls.

 

[Enderfive]

((So... do we just hop in without a character application or...?))

 

[Toiletprincess]

The girl made her way across the crumbling rooftops of the abandoned city, long bangs flying backwards in the wind. She pauses, looking to the side with a soft frown on her face as she hears a slow beeping, like something counting down. The colour drains from her faces as briefly, she sees the flashing green numbers as an object flies past. A noisemaker. Moments later, an alarm sounded and the inevitable chorus of growls fills the air. "FUCKING SHIT," she yells, looking with an expression of rage in the direction the device was thrown, "IF I FIND YOU, YOU'RE DEAD MEAT." She glances over the edge of the roof, watching as the newer parasites begin to climb, and the older ones scrabble at the wall uselessly. With a gutteral roar of anger, she kicks her boot into the first Parasite's face to give her time to pull out her machete. "Alright, you fucks, let's dance."

She slams the machete into the dazed Parasite's face, blood spurting all over her face as she twists it, pulls it out and shoves the first zombie onto the ground below. A second Parasite, like the idiot it is, bites her bag. She spins around to try to nail it in the skull with her weapon, but her beatdown backpack rips, spilling it's contents all over the rooftops as cans and a canteen half full of water clang to the ground. "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" She screams, slamming her fist into the side of the creature's skull, blood going up half her forearm as she shoves it off the roof. Lucky for me this is a pretty abandoned side of town, not a load of Parasites like the West Side. With that, she ran to the next roof, followed in tow by one particularly fast zombie, in which she twists around and stabs it in the neck, kicking it into two other parasites that had been flanking. She began to run across the roofs, pumping her legs hard with perspiration beading on her brow.

Snarl, thump.
A parasite had grabbed her foot, sending her tumbling to the tiled rooftop. Blood seeped out of a cut on her cheek and her arms were grazed and bruised. She kicked the thing in the skull, hearing a sickening crack as her hard military boot slams into it's bone. Again and again she kicked it, before a final crack signalled the breaking and the parasite went limp. Briefly, she rubbed her jaw, wincing as she massaged it's heavily bruised surface. She spat blood onto the dead creature, kicking it in annoyance before looking around. Those were most of the new ones, and the others take longer to climb. Looking up at the radio station, she cursed and gave it the finger out of frustration. "For fucks sake," she cursed under hear breath, "that greedy son of a bitch. Good as bait once I get my hands on them."

Crouching low, she begun to make her way silently across the roofs again, muttering and swearing to herself, "Fucking lost all my supplies." Her fists remained clenched and her knuckles were going white around the tight grip she had on her weapon. Soon, the radio station loomed above her and she followed it's supports with her eyes till it reached into the heavens. "The better not be a fucking trick," she mumbled, moving towards it's base.

((Enderfive jump right on in sir))

 

[Naoh]

((So... do we just hop in without a character application or...?))

(( Basically, yup ))

 

[S_swimmer]

Blake; Chris

I stand in front of the looming radio tower, lab coat flapping in the wind, staring up at its impressive structure. The myriad of bars light up by the flashes of lightning. Truly ominous. Bringing my chin back down, I stare at the gray doors. Taking a deep breath, with knife in hand, I feel the cold doorknob, twisting it and pulling it open.

I am greeted by a mess of garbage. Candy wrappers, water bottles, clothes and paper litter the damp floor. Among the trash, I notice some posters of "MacVanner's World-Famous Circus." Stepping carefully around the sludge piles, I make my way to the stairs, lit only by lights that flash on and off and the occasional spark. Fearing the worst, I tighten my grip on my knife and ascend the ominous steps.

The boy heard steps coming up the stairs. "Oh myyyyyyy, looks like someone got my message!" The boy giggled. "I wonder if they are a friendly Wendy or a Nasty Ned!"

The boy saw a young man with red, black-tipped hair come up the steps. He had rectangular, half-rimmed glasses and a bandaged left hand, along with a lab coat. "Hello," grinned the boy. "Who are you? Are you a nice man?"

A young boy stood before him with pale skin and utterly white hair. He wore on him black jeans, a white, wool coat that drooped down over his hands, and a vacant smile. His eyes were wide and a dreamlike light blue. He wore nothing on his feet, and Blake could see various scars, cuts and dirt smears. Blake shuddered. Although the young boy looked no more than 14, he could tell that he was a dangerous person.

"Hello~" the boy drawled. "Who are you? Are you a nice man?"

Blake responded, speaking to the boy as though he were a toddler. "Yes, I'm one of the good guys. My name is Blake. What's your name, young boy? Do you have parents?"

The boy laughed. "You look like the type I can trust I suppose..." The boy looked up at the ceiling. "Blake..." he said thoughtfully. "My name is Christopher Theodore Caspar Josiah Lloyd the Third!" Enthusiastically, he held up 3 fingers. "But you can call me Chris!" The boy grinned.

He bobbed his head with each name. "Alright, then, I'll call you Chris." Blake smiled reassuringly. "Are your parents here? Have you been alone this whole time?"

"Uhhhh" Chris stared at the ceiling. "Not here. I've been here alone. But now you're here!" He brightened.

Blake laughed, forgetting about the supplies for his inventions. "That's right, I'm here. You're safe with me." Suddenly, he heard the faintest sound of footsteps. Looking out the window, he saw a girl with brown hair, a black tank top, army kakhis, and murder on her face.

"Safe..." mumbled Chris. "Whatchu lookin' at Blake?"

He motioned to Chris and put a finger to his lips. "Shh. Be very quiet. Look over here."

Chris skipped over to the window and looked over. "I spy a dreary dame," he whispered into Blake's ear.

Blake twitched, bringing his shoulder up to his ear. "Do you see her? She's one of the bad guys. She's going to come in just for your supplies. Be very careful." Blake considered jumping on her, but he disregarded the thought. She was a foe to be reckoned with; he couldn't risk giving away his identity as her previous attacker.

"HEY LADY!" Chris jumped up and waved his hands. "YOU HERE FOR THE GOODS?" Chris giggled and looked at Blake. "I lied about the supplies, there never were any!" Chris grinned.

Blake took a step back, mouth agape. Standing in front of him now was no longer a young, quirky boy, but a monstrous and cold-hearted tactician. "You're a devious little man, Chris," I say in awe. "How do I know I can trust you now?"

"How was I to know I could trust you, mon ami?" Chris snapped his fingers. "However, I have a plan! We will capture the scary female that presents herself before us, and we will force her to help us get supplies!"

Blake raised his eyebrows. "And if it doesn't work? If she escapes? She'll want to kill us from the start."

"If she escapes..." Chris laughed. "Well if she escapes, I don't think we will have much of a choice." Chris' smile faded. "I suppose we'll have to remove her from this world if she refuses to help us." His smile returned again. "Why wouldn't she want to help us anyway?" It's not like we've done anything to her."

"Because we'd be attacking her from the start. If we want her to trust us, we should be nice to her." Blake held his face in his hand, shaking it left to right. "I don't know what you have in mind, but you seem quite hell-bent on capturing her..." Blake wondered what he got himself into. Just who is my new partner? he thought to himself. "I'll consider it. Tell me your plan."

(( Toiletprincess I'm msging you the plan rn, respond how you like~ ))

 

[Enderfive]

Fredrik was having a pretty good evening so far. Sure, some of the Pusermites were outside, but then again, some were always outside. He'd managed to barricade this place pretty decently, so if the worst happened and they did break in, he'd have a solid 3 minutes to get all his stuff and get moving across the rooftops to a safer place. Not like they could climb very well, since they had trouble moving their arms, or see very well, so rooftops were really a pretty reasonable choice of road, especially during the night, if you only kept quiet.

There was some old cans of beef in the cabinets here. Since it was his birthday, he'd decided to open up the can and savour the meat, even if it was pretty shit by pre-Pusermite standards. Fredrik wondered if his friends remembered it was his birthday. Perhaps they'd wonder how he was doing right now, assuming they hadn't gotten themselves infested with the little buggers.

The red-haired man didn't plan to stick here too long. He had a mission, after all - see if there's any survivors outside Chicago, that's what they'd told him. Still, there was no point in hurrying, either. He'd only got in Rockford four days ago, it was a big city, so there were plenty places he'd still need to check out for useful loot or other survivors.

Fredrik heard the radio he'd set up picking something up. The signal was weak, and the singer had to play with the buttons a bit to tune the transceiver to the right frequency, but he managed to hear enough. "... -nyone who ca- ... -oadcasting in Rockford, Illinois. I have suppli-"
The message cut off, but Fredrik had heard everything he needed to hear. He walked up the stairs, packed his smaller bag with everything he'd need on a trip out, and fastened the sword belt carrying a heavy, double-edged blade his friend had given him. Garland had been a smith before the Pusermites and after the tiny bastards struck, he'd put his skills to use whenever he had the materials. In a way, the sword suited Fredrik; with his wild auburn hair and braided beard, he almost looked like a viking in modern clothes.

Not too far from it, he supposed. His parents had come to America from Norway some thirty years ago, but they'd visited his grandparents often enough.

An alarm went off somewhere. Noisemaker. It seemed to be coming closer. That's trouble, the singer thought silently and cursed in his beard. The place would be overrun soon enough with Pusermites the way the alarm blared, so Fredrik had no choice but to grab his hiking backpack; with the sword belt and the smaller bag, the setup was clumsier than he would've liked. He thought he heard a struggle on a rooftop a bit too close to his own. Fredrik decided to wait until it was a little less noisy outside, and then climbed on the roof himself.

Yep, there'd definitely been a struggle. Dead Pusermites littered the roofs not five houses away and the ones on the ground seemed agitated. Fredrik cursed again. He glimpsed a look in the direction of the radio tower. It seemed like someone was running across the rooftops, but the person looked careful, crouching, almost like he was afraid to be noticed. He pondered over it for a second. The message had most likely come from the radio tower and the guy running towards it had most likely heard it as well. Well, I was supposed to find survivors. That's the most likely place to meet them. He started making his way to the radio tower.

((Yeah, so I'll be climbing up as well, will arrive a few minutes after Claire. Also, getting some strong Okarin-vibes from Blake so far c: ))

((Also, Chicago's overrun and all Fredrik's friends are dead or Pusermites. Yay.))

 

[S_swimmer]

Okarin

(( I think you mean

HOUOUIN KYOUMA

but yea Blake's a badass and super smart scientist and I'll be posting a character bio soon (y'all should too)

Also red-hair buddies ^-^ ))

 

[NovaCat]

Walking, always walking. "How far is this place?" Arin mutters to her self. She looks around, all these abandoned buidings, it's like everyone is gone. She pauses and leans against a wall, something moans. She jumps up, her eyes are wide. She starts to run in the opposite direction.


Where do I go? What do I do? She ponders stricken with horror. She runs down an ally. Ah! A fire escape! But I can't reach it! She steps on to the hood of a near by truck, reaching to the ladder. Something runs towards her, "Oh my gosh!" She whispers as loudly as she can. "Beep Beep Beep!" What!? She looks down, the car alarm is going off, zombies start running to her spot. She jumps to the ladders and pulls her self up, scrambling up the steps. She falls slipping on a couple steps before regaining her balance, she reopens her eyes seconds later. Huh? Why is my head throbbing so much? She reaches up and touches her forehead, blood drips from her fingers, What? She shakes with new shock. Her view gets cloudy as her eyes fill with tears, stop it! STOP IT NOW! You have to get up right fricking now! She pushes her self up on trembling arms on to her quivering legs and starts to run again.


She pushes a window open and falls threw, her eyes wide with a far away sort of look. Why am I here? What did I do to deserve this? Gosh, I'm so hungery! Can I just find something to eat?! She looks up, the room is a small one person bedroom. The walls are a pale yellow, to the right of the bed is a closet. To the left is a white door, maybe it leads to the kitchen! Her eyes shine with hope, despite the blood covering the right half of her head she jumps to her feet and walks threw the door. She walks in to a short hall with light robins egg blue wallpaper. On the walls hang dozens of pictures, in each one is a man with light brown hair. They all very, some with kids, others where he stands alone, in most of them he's standing by a young woman with blond hair and blue eyes. This must be his house, and this is his wife or girl friend, probably wife, and his kids. She opens the kitchen door, "What... What the crap?..."


Her voice trembles and her eyes fill with horror. What... happened here? She starts to hyperventilate and falls on her knees. The walls are painted with blood, a twisted corpse lays in ribbens at her feet. The room changes between blurry and strait as she struggels to calm down. A burning liquid rises in her throat, NO! Stay down! She brings her hand to her mouth, I need... I need to keep it down, so I won't stave. She sits there, after a minute she looks up again. "I... need... something..." She looks around, what was... I just thinking? She walks over and looks in the cabinets. "Ah!" She shakes with joy, pushing against the walls and sliding down till she was sitting. A box of crackers, she rips the top off, biting the plastic and tearing it off too. She shoves the crackers into her mouth, oh my gosh. She turns to the corpse, a vacent look comes to her eyes, "no... you can't have any... they're mine." She stands up, and opens the refrigerator. A foul scent fills the room. Ew, what a stench. She rumages threw the drawers, mostly mold covered vegetables and spoiled food. A bottle of water! Yeah! She knocks a couple boxes down from the top shelf. A low screach reaches her ears. No! It wants my food! NO NO NO NO! It's mine... I found it. She pulls the knife out of her bag just as the creature burst threw the door. It's rotting body drips with pus and blood. It starts to run at her, a wild look comes to her eyes. "No." She whispers, "THIS IS MINE!" She swings the knife into it's head, the body falls to the ground twitching. She rips the blade out and stares at it wide eyed as blood spray threw the air covering her and the room. She tilts her head, "I told you... it's mine." The zombie twiches and turns to her, trying to get up. "You aren't dead yet?" An icy smile crosses her lips. "Die die die die die die!" She stabs it over and over again in the head and chest. Blood pools around her, she stands up again. Swinging her arms as if they were limp, holding on to the knife she continues to rumage in the drawers. One extra box of crackers, two bottles of water, thats all I have. She packs them in her bag and turns around. She starts to shake again and grabs the counter for support. The room is covered with blood, dripping from the ceiling and splattering on the ground. What have I.... done? She turns and pukes.

 

[S_swimmer]

(( CHARACTER BIO TIME

Name: Blake
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance: Wears a lab coat with ripped sleeves. Slightly physically built. Wears black, half-rimmed glasses. Gray eyes, red hair that is spiked up in the front and tipped black. Right palm is bandaged.

Spoiler: I tried a drawing again and its horrible again and you cant see the black tips too well tho and dont hate me pls

scientist more like stylintist amirite guise
Background: Part of Project Heilung, the group of scientists who tried to search for a cure and figured out the 27-29 day decay time (mostly thanks to Blake). They turned into a survival group, but the others were monsters, so Blake defected. He had a 6-year-old son whose mother left him, but the son died, causing Blake to turn inward and become apathetic. As for his bandages, a Pusermite bit him in the palm, and Blake gouged out the infected flesh with a knife. The wounds still have yet to heal. This is all I have so far, I'm working on more ))

 

[Toiletprincess]

((very short Character Bio just to kill some timeeeee, the parts not included will be found out
Age: looks between 18 and 22, specifics unknown to others at this point in time.
Gender: Female
Appearance: Short, choppy black hair (all but dark brown, long bangs at the front). Bright blue eyes. Wears a black tank top, camo kakhis, heavy black military boots and a red bandana. Wields a large machete and currently her face is covered in blood and dirt. ))

 

[Enderfive]

((Character bio:

Name: Fredrik "Viking" Knudsen

Age: 27 (his birthday was on the day before the RP started)

Gender: Male

Appearance: Tall, strong and fair-skinned. Fredrik has blue-green eyes, auburn hair and a braided auburn beard. His hair is medium-length, wild, messy, like it hasn't been cared for in a while. He doesn't pay much attention to what he wears, as long as it doesn't make a lot of noise and is comfortable to move around in.

Personality: Fun-loving, active, friendly and always one to crack a joke, he rarely gets angry, although when he does, his rage is terrible. He's quite clever, but never thinks too much ahead, preferring to plan on the go. He's also pretty rash and doesn't always think of the possible consequences of his actions, which have left him in a bad situation more than once.

Weapons: Fredrik prefers heavy melee weapons because of their ability to protect him at close range, the fact that one swing can take out multiple enemies if swung the right way and the fact that they don't usually make a lot of noise. He carries a medieval-style double-edged sword, which has earned him the nickname "Viking" among his friends. If the sword isn't at hand, he's perfectly happy with anything heavy to swing at his enemy's head. He's not very good with ranged weapons and despises firearms because of their noisiness and for them being a "coward's weapon".

Backstory: Fredrik's parents came to the United States a little more than thirty years ago, where they settled in Minneapolis, which was where Fredrik was born. There isn't much to talk about Fredrik's childhood or his school years, since he was a pretty average kid. He always had a taste for music, though, alternative rock in particular. In high school, he started a band called Catherys with a couple of his friends, with Fredrik being the lead vocalist and occasionally playing the bass; soon after graduation they changed the name to Sevenfold and started to pursue a musical career. At first they didn't have much success; in the couple of years leading up to the apocalypse, though, their fanbase started to grow as their first studio album, Fallen Curtains, achieved moderate success. They were supposed to release their next studio album three weeks after the Pusermite outbreak, and were at Chicago at the start of the apocalypse, promoting their second studio album.

After the Pusermites outbreak, Fredrik stayed in Chicago with his band, helping out in the establishment of a safezone. A couple of weeks before the current events, Fredrik was sent out with three other men to find survivors outside Chicago and spread the word about the safe zone. The others died when a Pusermite swarm attacked them ten days after departure, while Fredrik was the only one to escape. Since he hadn't found any survivors yet, he decided to keep going and see if he could find more survivors.))

 

[Naoh]

((very short Character Bio just to kill some timeeeee, the parts not included will be found out
Age: looks between 18 and 22, specifics unknown to others at this point in time.
Gender: Female
Appearance: Short, choppy black hair (all but dark brown, long bangs at the front). Bright blue eyes. Wears a black tank top, camo kakhis, heavy black military boots and a red bandana. Wields a large machete and currently her face is covered in blood and dirt. ))

(( aahfdsk what is your NAME ))

 

[Timdood3]

Kaes (said "Kay-See") had been prepared for the outbreak for years. He'd lived a secluded life in a cabin in Iowa. He'd hunted game and pumped water from a spring underground. Life was good until he started to feel the effects of the ifestation. Due to the small population, there weren't many actual pusermites, but the animals all fled. Kaes no longer had a steady source of survival. He'd been gradually moving East since the outbreak, and had run into a city for the first time.

Sure, there'd been small towns, but they'd all been looted. Every one of them was barren and deserted. He mostly followed the road, and signs, and what few pusermites he encountered quickly met their end at his axe. The city was much more populated, so Kaes decided to just hole up until morning. Being the outdoorsy type, he stayed up the rooftops, dozing off. He woke up to the sounds of an alarm clock. He rolled over and mumbled, "Five more minutes..."

And then he realized...He didn't have an alarm clock. It wasn't morning. And he was no longer alone. He sprung up, grabbing his pack and his axe in one smooth motion. Across the street and a few houses down there was a girl being attacked by a bloody horde. She escaped, thankfully, the last thing anyone needed was another infection. After the area seemed to be clear, Kaes followed the trail of the girl and the- well someone had to throw the noisemaker. They seemed to be headed in the direction of a radio tower. He followed them, watching from whatever cover he could find. He was definitely out of his element, but he could handle it.

((Bio:
Name: Kaes Iliath (Kay-See Ill-ee-eth)
Appearance: Bulky from years of self-sufficiency in the forest, hunting, chopping wood, et cetera. Typical red plaid lumberjack shirt and blue jeans, stained and ripped. Scruffy brown beard.
Age: Around early forties.
I already gave the background in the first paragraph and anything else will be revealed later :3 ))

 

[Toiletprincess]

She looked up at the radio tower and thunder cracked, lighting it with an eerie shadow. "Alrighty then," she muttered, spitting on the ground and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "Slow approach." Moving quietly, she creaked the door to the radio tower open slightly and slipped in through the gap. Nothing. "Hello?" she called softly, wincing as she steps on her left foot. "Well fuck," she groans, allowing herself to limp just slightly towards a set of stairs. A brief look around to check there was nothing here, and she made her way up the stairs, forcing herself to suppress the want to take the pressure off her aching foot. As she makes her way cautiously up the stairs, she lets an inkling of fear trickle in, just briefly, before shaking her head to get rid of it. "Hello?" she called again, brushing her bangs carefully out of her eyes, "Anyone?" She steps into the room above and stops, pressing her lips into a thin line. Nothing. No one was here. What bullshit. She curses colourfully under her breath, kicking the ground with her good foot before turning to begin making her way down the stairs.
((S_swimmer Naoh))

 

[Timdood3]

Kaes walked along the road casually. There weren't many pusermites left after the incident with the noisemaker....And those that were swiftly met with a heavy hit from his axe. He was covered in blood, and surprisingly, enjoyed it. He'd had plenty of life or death situations, but never combat like this. He had just dispatched another infected bastard when a flash of orange on the rooftops caught his well trained eyes. He quickly made his way up a fire escape ladder and got a good look at what it was: A man. Surely he couldn't be from around here....He looked like a....Viking? Regardless, this was the first person Kaes had seen in a long time, and was eager to make contact.

It was easy enough to catch up. The blade-wielding maniac cleared away any obstacles, namely pusermites, in the way, and wasn't exactly sprinting. From a safe distance (about 10 feet), Kaes called out a muted greeting. "Hey, you there. Where you headed?"

((Enderfive))

 

[Enderfive]

Fredrik stopped as he heard a quiet call. He looked around in confusion for a moment, then spotted a lumberjack down on the road. Fredrik made sure there weren't too many pusermites on the ground to worry about and then climbed down from the roofs to meet the other survivor.

"Fredrik Knudsen," he said after he was sure the stranger wasn't a threat and reached his arm out in a greeting. The stranger took the hand and shook it. "I was heading towards the radio tower. There was a transmission some twenty minutes ago. Apparently they have supplies in the radio tower, plus I saw someone else going there as well."