Zombie Roleplay

mrpocketz666 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mrpocketz666** on Sat Aug 15, 2009 5:17 am

((Lolz...Red, I'm gonna have to, ironically, considering I am a Satanist, agree with the Pope on this one. Calm down. We're all friends here. Now everyone sit in a crircle and join hands and we can get some peace-lovin' songs a'goin'.))

Rainbow slapped the palm of his left hand with the crowbar when the cop pointed a gun at him. He already didn't like theses folks. They point guns at people immediately. When the girl pretended to swat at a fly, he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I shtink. Get over it! You don't smell the greatest yerself." Looking at the armory, slightly impressed, he started waklking down the remaining rows of weaponry. "They call me..." He took a dramatic pause and continued, making a dramatic movement, "Rainbow. I am Rainbow, hobo extraordinair! I used to be a doctor, but the assholes at the hospital took meh lisence to pratice medicine." He started making hand motions as he explained it. 'Ya see, I was doin a surgery and I screwed up an' they was all, 'You can't be doctor anymo.' Then I was all, 'Fuck you!' Then I got sued with the this and that and the coo-coo cachoo!" After finishing, his eye slightly twitched.

powerpack · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **powerpack** on Sat Aug 15, 2009 11:23 am

((damn straight we are all friends here! Sorry, was busy all yesterday. how was vegas?))

"Shit man, where should we go? We should try to find some more survivors for sure though. ((pocketz come find us lol)) We can take my truck. But, we need to go and grab some coats and shit. As many blankets as we can fit. I'm going North, probably. That's what they do on movies when the zombies come, right?" I take another hit "And how much ammo do we have? We need some melee too... Guns are great, but a good bat will last a lifetime."

Ayabrea2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Ayabrea2** on Sat Aug 15, 2009 2:57 pm

((ROFLMFAO Pope!!! XD!!))

Aya looked at rainbow and shook her head. She did smell good despite the fact she was in a fight with a few zombies but that wasn't the real issue. "Rainbow?" Aya then laughed. "Are you gay or something. Why the fuck would you name yourself rainbow?" She then stopped laughing and got to the point. "Well rainbow..." she chuckled under her breath.

Larry then finally talked after finally packing all the guns he could in the bag. He had moved around and took more guns pack them and now there was about 5 big bags of just guns. "Look rainbow..." larry said with a serious tone. "We don't have the time for chit-chat speak." He then shoved a bag of guns to him and turned around. "If you want to live, follow. I could tell you this now. If you think you can win by yourself, your wrong. So put all that doctor shit away and lets get out of here. We have to find new surviors, hopefully and get the hell out this place." He then walked towards a big door downstairs in the armory and the door opened up from the buttom going to the top. Aya looked at larry and grew worried. "Why was he acting like that?" she thought to herself. Maybe the bite was getting to him but she didn't understand. "Well then," she said, "Let's go," she shrugged to rainbow and walked behind larry.

Larry then opened up what was the garage of some of the cars cops used for emergency, like the big behemoth Swat van. It was over 400lbs with a bullet proof body and steel frame. It could hit down a few zombies out the way. Larry then opened the back door of the van instead of the side and threw the bags in there. Aya looked at the van and smiled. "Oh fucking Ahe! This van will do the trick. Run there asses over haha!" She laughed.

mrpocketz666 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mrpocketz666** on Sat Aug 15, 2009 3:45 pm

Rainbow was already about to beat the life out his newfound companions. He took the bag and followed Larry and Aya out into the garage. "I hope arn't takin' that, there SWAT truck! It's a death trap. Large vehicles flip way too easily. My sanity may be inquestion here, but I know what I just said is very true." He smirked. "Do you know how many people were in my hospital for car accidents? Any clue how many of then were because a large vehicle hat flipped?" Looking over at Aya, he said, "And no, ya little bitch, I am NOT gay. I hit my head real good a while back and forgat meh real name. I woke up and saw a Rainbow, and that's what the guys started callin' me." Looking to Larry, he said, "And yes I can survive on my own. I don't know where the hell you guys have been, but these zombies have been around for weeks meow. And I ave been doin' just fine!"

Ayabrea2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Ayabrea2** on Sat Aug 15, 2009 5:56 pm

"Good then. Then i don't have to worry about you dying." Larry said. The bit on his arm was now sinking into him. It slowly was going through his blood stream but he couldn't feel it. It started as if there was no symptons. Maybe he was so mad he couldn't feel them but it was slowly taking him on. He wasn't mad because of the virus though, even though that was the obvious reason. It was because he was going to die and he hated not being to help anyone. He thought he would be able to at least live to get rid of all the zombies and be a hero but his time was near and he felt that he didn't do enough. "I know what the fuck i'm doing ok!!" Larry yelled at rainbow. He didn't have time to hear about the precautions of the truck. He just wanted to go. Leave. Get away.

Aya stared at larry as he yelled at rainbow. At the moment she couldn't be mad at rainbow, larry was just a ticking bomb and he was lashing out at everyone. She sighed and scratched her head. "I guess we just have to go."

"Sorry...ok." Larry said as he realized what he did. He was losing himself and sooner or later he would die alone and he didn't want that. So he instead of yelling at rainbow again, walked up to him and took the bag away from him with ease and let out his hand. "Listen man, i'm sorry if i'm coming off a bit to strong but i'm Larry. Police officer of the 79th district. we really need your help. You know about these fuckers more than we do and you look like a great shooting partner. How about joining us on our search?" He said more politely.

RedDyeC8 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **RedDyeC8** on Sat Aug 15, 2009 6:27 pm

((sorry about that thing the other day guys, I've been off weed for a few months and I occasionally have these male PMS things lol))

Chan takes the joint back and a few hits before talking. "I don't know if thats a good idea... there isn't shit up north... we'd have to have a hell of a lot to do that. I have a truck too, but I think we should head somewhere where we can set up like a fort, thats tottally zombie proof. We'll need more survivors though... and electricity..." he takes another hit and hands the joint back to the huge guy. "We could just stay here till we gotta shitload more survivors" the weed was starting to set in. "and then we could go to like Manhattan and kill those mother fuckers. KILL THOSE MOTHER FUCKERS!" He was on a pretty good trip. "Fuck my ideads fucking blow bro. Your turn"

((yeah I was in Vegas a few weeks ago and used my fake ID to gamble lol. I lost $100 on slots. But made a bit on Blackjack. Its a badass place you guys could check it out))

Pope.of.Dope · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Pope.of.Dope** on Sat Aug 15, 2009 7:17 pm

Biz was pretty sick of all of this depressing bullshit. He wasn't the type to ever succumb to depression even if coming down off of a 3 day Herion binge. He flipped on the radio on and it was some funky shit. What could he expect he was in a fly ride. For all he knew it used to belong to a drug dealer; with: gangster white walls, diamond in the back and a sunroof top. Blasting De La Soul - Keepin The Faith down the street; he wasn't really paying attention because he didn't really need to. With no other cars on the road for a distraction, Biz kept the steering wheel straight with his knees.

He leaned over -there was overwhelming smell of skunk and pussy. When he opened the glove compartment a Five-seveN fell out, along with two band new boxes of bullets. If it weren't for the plastic wrapping on them they would have gotten all over the floor. Looking into it some more: condoms, blunt wraps, a half eaten bag of Takis, a CD case and a wallet. He shut it and before he could start on the center console he peeked his head up and saw a gas station. He pulled in very slowly and leaned down into the passenger seat to grab the gun. The lights illuminated the White paint job of the Cadillac. He turned down the radio which was now playing Cameo - I Just Want to Be.

Comrade 47 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Comrade 47** on Sat Aug 15, 2009 11:26 pm

After mumbling 'turn left' and 'turn right' for a few minutes, John spotted a gas station up the road. "Pull in there." The driver did as he was told and parked the car next to the pumps. John looked over the gas station: some abandoned Cadillac, a smashed gas pump, and something making a horrible stench. He'd need gas to make it out of the city, but the pumps were probably bone-dry by now. "Only one way to find out," he thought. He shifted over to the passenger door and opened the door. The smell got worse, maybe chicken and sometime dead. But John smelled no gas vapors and safely (at least for him) shot the driver in the back of the head.

He climbed out of the car and started to walk towards the building. He needed to find some food and quick, before the undead came back. It was as he stepped foot into the desolate store an important fact about the Caddy out front registered in his head. The headlights were on.

Subtle Blatancy · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Subtle Blatancy** on Sun Aug 16, 2009 3:10 pm

"He's right. North's shit. Every swingin' dick made a dash for the border when the panic hit--Apocalypse comes and the populace runs to Canada." Gardener said, eying the bud skeptically as it passed hands.

He turned and looked around into the darkness of the Walmart. On dirty ceramic walkways and on stained carpets, items of every shape and size littered the ground. Clothes, tents, TV's, ammunition, iPods, food--all were raided as panicked citizens fled North, escaping the onslaught of the Infection. Or, at least they thought they were escaping.

"These people. Scared fucking people. Taking shit and running North. I doubt many will survive winter." Gardener wasn't entirely aware that the words he spoke were out loud. It was a grim observation, to be sure. "There's a Shell Station south of here." he said, breaking back into his survivalist stride. "We should liberate a few crates of canned food and load up on ammunition. We could even get some vegetable seeds, too. Then we can head out to get gas, and decide where to go from there."

Gardener nodded in the approximate location of the weapon's counter and began walking that way. He turned to speak to the others over his shoulder.

"I think that there are some camping tools--hatchets, machetes--by the weapons counter. Can one of you get the flatbed cleared so we can load up supplies in the back of the truck?" Gardener asked. "Be careful for Zack--fuckin' zombies are everywhere."

[OOC]
Vegas was awesome. Gambling and excess, hooray! Thanks for asking.
BTW:
"Zack" = Zombies. Max Brooks (World War Z) terminology here. Same goes for "Zeds".
[OOC Ends]

powerpack · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **powerpack** on Sun Aug 16, 2009 3:33 pm

"Yeah.. I guess that makes sense... But what is South? Texas? Louisianna? Or should we stay in the midwest? West, East coasts? I don't care where the fuck we go. We can find a way to survive anywhere, with the right tools and equipment." ((I've decided that we are in nebraska. It's in the middle of the country, so it will make it easiest to get to any side...)) I walk down an aisle quick, and find a US Atlas. I rip off a pen from the chain at the main desk, and come back and sit down on the floor around everyone. I open up the atlas to the full US map, and circle Nebraska. "We are here, obviously.. But the shortest distance we can take would be to the south, or to the north. But maybe the East or West coasts can provide more, and maybe we can catch a boat to somewhere safer. What do you guys think?"

Pope.of.Dope · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Pope.of.Dope** on Sun Aug 16, 2009 3:42 pm

Biz leaned up, he noticed a some guy sitting in the car which was now parked next to his. He raised his eyebrow, smiled, and even gave a chesty chuckle. Having Irish luck; he had to admit, wasn't too bad off right now. He placed the safety on and slipped it into his belt buckle to hide it under his shirt while he waved at the man with his right hand. He didn't seem to notice anything while he tried to make contact.

Opening the door he stepped out and walked over knocking on the window. The man looked over quickly and his eyes widened. Biz smiled at him and waved, he even asked "How are you?" but the same apathetic look was on his face. There had not even the look of effort, graced by his eyes or made evident by facial muscles. So Max pursed his lips and shifted them to the right of his face. He turned around and forgot about it, walking with audible step to the Gas Station.

It had been several months since the initial invasion. The lights at the station were working perfectly; the entire street corner that the station was located at was illuminated by it.

Comrade 47 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Comrade 47** on Sun Aug 16, 2009 5:38 pm

John had been messing with the computer behind the counter, trying to see how much gas was left in the underground tanks. Not much, maybe enough for a couple of fill-ups. He heard a door car slam shut, and foot steps. The didn't sound like one of those things, a sloppy shuffle, dragging their feet. No, this was a person. Probably the same guy who was driving the Caddy. John slipped below the counter, where the cigarettes were kept. John laid motionless on the floor, with his pistol pointing up.

RedDyeC8 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **RedDyeC8** on Sun Aug 16, 2009 10:18 pm

"Bro your lucky u have me. We should go west. I grew up in LA so I know the lay of the land. I have a house and a boat back there.... The boat is huge. It was my dads, he left it to me..." His sadness couldn't be felt over the weed. "It can sleep 8 people. It's huge can carry enough gas to make it to Alaska supposedly. We can refuel there (i heard they still have power) and head for somewhere in Asia (we'll take alot of gas). We can refuel in Japan from there, then head to Africa. Considering the low population and high heat we can probably set up a base there and not be bothered too much by the Z" he thought for a moment leading to a marijuana induced zone-out then snappes back in "The only question left is who's truck are we taking? Of course unless you guys do like my idea...." The joint was almost burnt out now. He tossed it on the ground and casually stomped it out. It took him a few tries.

((dude I love that book. It's as good as "The Zombie Survival Guide" if not better))
((Guys come find us))

Arlissa · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Arlissa** on Mon Aug 17, 2009 4:06 am

Name: Arlissa Frost
Age: 25
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 105 lbs.
Hair color/style: Brown/striaght long. Bangs covering her left eye.
Clothing: Wearing a black t-shirt with a logo of the comic book hero, Captain America. Her blue jeans, tight fitting, cuffed into her combat boots, laced to the top. She wears a red hankerchief around her neck.
Misc: A keychain of a Jawa, clipped on to her studded leather belt. Her good-luck charm.

Personality: Arlissa's reason to live. Is to try to live. Finally her comic books and sci fi novels were put at use. She's eager to kill some Zombies. Giving her that edge she needs. She is only excited for this war to happen. Her emotions are cast aside for this greater good.

Equipment: A 3 Iron (Golf club) A 9 mm. hand gun. A Mountain bike (Black color)

Biography: Growing up, she has been a closet geek. Her looks of a model, giving the boys something to drool at. Though she had another idea of fun aswell. Her Comics and Novels. One in particular she loved was the Zombie Survival Handbook. A book how to defend yourself against Zombies. Silly at the time. But now, every one's bible. Finally a world has gone to Hell. Arlissa stands ready, with the Zombie Survival Guide in one hand, a 3 Iron in the other.

powerpack · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **powerpack** on Mon Aug 17, 2009 6:39 pm

"Fuck man. We're taking my truck wherever we go. But I like the Alaska idea. But Africa may be a bad idea... What are we gunna do when we are there? There is bound to be a trillion africans fucked up with the infection. But the boat will probably be a good idea. Good thing you know what the fuck is going on... This all hit me like a fucking train."

I drift off into my own day dream... I see my dad, and my brother, and all the people I loved that i had to kill...

I come to again, and realize I shed a few tears. I wipe them from my cheek, and see if anyone noticed. "Fuck..." I say quietly to myself...

Subtle Blatancy · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Subtle Blatancy** on Mon Aug 17, 2009 7:52 pm

There's something lurking in the shadows outside. It glides through the darkness, as elusive as a train of thought. It is some Daemon, a horror from the darkest regions of the human mind. It doesn't breath; it doesn't sleep; it only hunts, and eats.

And it senses something. The Daemon can sense warm bodies. Recognizing humans, structures, even its own bottomless hunger is no longer within the monster's capability. It only moves through the darkness, a hunter of preternatural capability. It knows that it must move to the location of the food, but cannot even understand the concepts of sustenance and location. So it moves. It stalks. And it waits for another meal, so that it may satiate it's insatiable hunger.

Gardener zipped up the wide pocket on his pack. All told, he had two boxes of rounds, plus the seven already loaded or chambered in the rifle. He wasn't sure why. He hadn't shot one of the Zeds yet. They looked too human. He couldn't bring himself to take their life. Or, what's left of it.

He shook the thought off, and walked back towards where the people were discussing. He heard them talking about where they were going. Fucking potheads. So indecisive. He thought.

"Hey," he called out, stepping up to the congregation, "I don't give a damn where we go in the long term. But let’s think about right now. Somebody give me the keys to the Victor. Dust-Off in 15 Mikes."

He was met by a chorus of confused looks.

"Somebody give me the keys to the truck, we're leaving in fifteen minutes." He said, in a voice a mother would use to explain something to a child. Somebody tossed him the keys, and Gardener was off walking to the back exit. "Thanks." He added, as an afterthought.

It is walking towards the Daemon. The Daemon is pleased at this. The hunt is easier. This creature is unaware. After consuming this, the Daemon will kill the rest. And consume them as well. A warm body, the creature gurgles at the thought, and moves into the shadows to wait in ambush.

"Fuckin' potheads." Gardener said to himself. The door to the back was left wide open. He closed it behind him as he went outside, and walked towards the truck. The lighting was dim. Shadows pooled at the edge of the flickering light above the worker's door. The Marine Veteran flicked the keys distractedly around his finger, caught them, and flicked them again.

But something gave a warning. It wasn't a very strong sensation. A feeling, dulled after a year of dormancy. It told him something was wrong. It told him something was about to happen. The light above the door gave out.

And the beast came from the darkness.

The monster immediately bowled the Marine to the ground. Hideous, mutated fangs covered in tar-like mucus gnashed to tear through his jugular. The Daemon was on top, thrashing and roaring. What features once identified it as a human being had long deformed or rotted off. Slabs of flesh hung limply off of sinewy, corded, muscle. Gardener thrashed back equally as hard, grabbing the creature's shoulders to keep it from swooping down and mauling his face. That was when he met eyes with the Daemon.

Black pits, like pools of molten tar. They had a fire in them, an eternal flame that came only in death. This beast was immortal. The infection had mutated it, made it Nature's perfect hunter. Speed, stealth, strength--a creature designed only for one thing. To kill.

Gardener yelled at the creature. Hot tears of anger rolled off his face as he reached desperately for his sidearm. The holster was at his hip. He grabbed it easily. He jammed the muzzle under the creature's jaw. He put his finger on the trigger.

But he couldn't kill it. He had vowed never to kill again. This mutated, undead creature wasn't human. But it was close enough to count. He was helpless against the beast.

[OOC]
Somebody save meh!
For real you guys, we should start an OOC thread. So we can plan a little bit just what's going on here. Just a thought.
Oh, and sorry for writing a book. I do some (non-RP) writing, so I have a tendency to go a bit overboard. Exciting, though, right?
[OOC Ends]

powerpack · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **powerpack** on Mon Aug 17, 2009 10:48 pm

((DAMN DUDE! Oh, and Ok. I will try to get one of those going...))

"What the fuck is that noise?!?" I yell. There was a harsh screaching noise coming from where the marine left to. And I could hear him screaming. Fuck. I grab my bat and 9mm and head for the door. "Come on dude!" I yell towards the Rick, still sitting on the floor. "Fuck Fuck Fuck"

I look out the door and see the marine pinned to the ground by some overgrown zombie. Mutated beyond belief. The creature is focusing on the marine so I run out, and swing my bat full swing at the creature's head. I hit it hard... And it barely flinched. "Fuck..." The zombie stands up and leaps for me. I backpedal, and quickly pull my pistol from my pants. I pop off two shots into his head, but it still doesen't drop. The bullets pierced all the way through the head of the beast though. "HEY! MARINE! GET THE FUCK UP!!! THIS THING AIN'T HUMAN ANYMORE!" I cut down an aisle, running at full boar away from the...thing... I pop off a few more shots into it's chest, but missing the last two rounds. I take a quick turn down a different aisle, and the beast turns towards me, sliding on the tile flooring, and rips into the ground with his claws, and starts at me again, on all fours.

zombie-roleplay-ooc-t27845.html

((OOC THREAD! GO DISCUSS THINGS THERE!

))

Shamus24 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Shamus24** on Mon Aug 17, 2009 11:05 pm

"AHHH!!!" Hearing the yells, Rick bolted up and looked around. A big, weird looking zombie was chasing Austin. Rick looked too see what aisle they were going down, running to the other end. He wound up his bat and banged it into it's head as hard as he could, grounding it. Within a second, he had his ruger out and emptied a clip into it's head. Still seeing it squirm, he started beating it in the head. "Somebody cut the fucking thing apart!!"

Subtle Blatancy · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Subtle Blatancy** on Mon Aug 17, 2009 11:55 pm

Gardener followed the bright flashes of light in the dark super-store. The sound of a nine-millimeter was first. Then the sound of something bigger, Gardener couldn't tell exactly what. He was carrying something large. He ran like a man possessed, a deathly light in his eyes--he could have breathed fire. He screamed incomprehensibly as he hefted his implement of death bodily through the isles. And then he saw it. One of the men was pounding shot after shot into the creature. Gardener screamed to a halt with the thrashing beast at his feet.

Inside his body, the lump-of-an-organ on top of his Kidney pumped out the potent combination of Amino Acids like a garden hose. Oxygen and Glucose flooded his brain and muscles. Non-essential functions like digestion slowed down to a crawl. His Gastrointestinal and Epidermal arterioles constricted, his blood sugar shot up, his heart rate accelerated, his stroke volume increased, his pupils dilated.

And Robert Gardener laughed like a mad man in ecstasy as his Adrenaline high climaxed.

He brought the chainsaw down, spitting and whirring, grinding and tearing. The fangs on the blade ripped into flesh and muscle. Blood like molasses streamed out. The beast screamed. Chunks of flesh, the blood-tar, bones, organs--all were sent into a massive whirl of carnal wrath as the roaring implement of destruction carved the beast into oblivion.

And then, the Adrenaline stopped. Gardener's body crashed like a vehicle driving off of a sheer cliff. Gardener stepped back. His eyes had a vacant stare. The chainsaw hit the floor, and the safety mechanism shut it down immediately as the bloody instrument clattered to the floor.

Robert collapsed, fell backwards, knocking over boxes full of blenders. Hot tears streamed down his face, but he wasn't sure why. He just breathed in heavy, haggard breaths and trembled feebly.

Through a hoarse throat, Gardener said, "Let's get the fuck out of here."

mrpocketz666 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mrpocketz666** on Tue Aug 18, 2009 1:02 am

Rainbow blankley looked at Larry as he spoke. He smiled and sai, "Yeah, I'll come along." He eyed the wound in the police officer's arm and shook his head. "The infection is beginning to spread to your brain. Soon you will lose control of normal bodily functions. Your heart rate is going to slow to a crawl, followed by your respiratory system. Then, your brain is going to completely shut down. The infection will reanimate those dead cells and bring you back to life. Unfortunately you won't remember anything. All you will have are your primal instincts. You will kill for survival; you will kill and consume loved ones and complete strangers. I'm sorry, but you aren't going to last longer than a day at this rate." He spoke normally, as if he was back to the way he was before he hit his head. Perhaps he was.

Rainbow looked at his feet. This was what he had hated most when he was a doctor. Telling people the bad news. The reality of things was what people feared, buthe knew someone had to say something. Placing a comforting hand on Larry's shoulder, he said, "I'm sorry, but there isn't anything anyone can do. If I had access to the proper equipment, I might be able to search for a cure, but it doesn't look like that's gonna happen."

Zombie Roleplay

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