Introduction
Character sheet:
Remember make these characters as close to the real you as possible. This roleplay is youm as your self in a much different world.
Age:
Gender:
Weight:
Height:
Distinguishing marks:
Fears:
Weapons: (Does not have to have anything)
Skills: (Make these skills the same as you have in real life, and be honest.)
Personality: (Remember just like you and when you put this personality in you must stay by oit and not change the second you start to post but after a while your personality will change do to the much harder world.)
History: (Must have one and if possible a descriptive one.)
- 60 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 8 authors
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Silva holstered the pistol a sleathed the knife. He unslung the 30-30 and took aim, he did not like shooting a rifle from standing position very much unless it was an assault rifle which he could put more rounds down range faster and it felt more natural to do so. Silva squeezed the trigger and the round flew hitting the zombie alittle right a low of where he aimed. this put so hurt on the thing and generally pissed it off. Another round hitting the infected dead center of the chest was enough to drop it, after it went through the spinal cord and the heart.
Silva slung the rifle and unholstered the pistol as he cautiously made his way to the house. He knew the door was locked as with most of these houses were after the disease hit. Silva smashed the butt of the pistol against the glass. The quick strike combined with the small point of impact was enough to break the window, but it took three more hard swings to make the window completely give and let him in. Silva slipped through the window readying himself for any thing.
"Is any one here?" Silva called searching the house.
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"My name is Silva, I'm not going to hurt you I'm here to help." Silva knelt down and looked calmly into to the girls eyes to reassure her. "Are you hurt?"
It wasn't a very smart question to ask beacuse the only thing that would hurt her would be zombies and if that were the case she'd be dead, dieing, or infected. Still it was an instinct to ask this question it was also polite.
"If you are okay we need to get moveing, most likely there were others who heard the gun shots and we'll have company very soon." Silva informed her.
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"My name is Silva, I'm not going to hurt you I'm here to help." Silva knelt down and looked calmly into to the girls eyes to reassure her. "Are you hurt?"
It wasn't a very smart question to ask beacuse the only thing that would hurt her would be zombies and if that were the case she'd be dead, dieing, or infected. Still it was an instinct to ask this question it was also polite.
"If you are okay we need to get moveing, most likely there were others who heard the gun shots and we'll have company very soon." Silva informed her.
(Why suddenly double posts? stupid mateinence.)
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Kasma looked up, biting her lip at the sight of a boy. He couldn't be much older than her..a year, perhaps? "The only way I'm hurt is emotionally..B-but...all's w-well.." she murmured. Biting her lip, she shifted only uncomfortably, she felt weird under Silva's gaze. It took her a few moments to speak again, she'd been so terrified by her outside attacker she found it hard to speak. She did open her mouth, eventually, only to give a muffled reply due to Carlos being pressed firmly against her chest and mouth. "You're right..we r-really sh-should be g-get-getting a move o-on.." she squeaked, shifting again. Blinking, she bit her bottom lip close to the point of bleeding. "You..you /did/ get that..that thing out there..r-right? As in..k-killed it d-dead?"
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Silva could tell this girl was terrified, although if he hadn't been taught by his dad to perform under stress he probably would have been in the same boat. Despite the way Silva was able to do things he still was not without compation for people who were suffering. Silva remembered when someone didn't have to be this way and everything was much simpler to deal with, memories of the time before the Rage disease hit flash through his mind. Silva shook his head to clear these thoughts.
"Here let's get going." Silva offered a hand to the girl. "Do you guys got a car or something here?"
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Cliff stretched as he stood, and then walked into the kitchen of his apartment. He opened the fridge and studied its contents. His food supply was unoptimistically low.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath.
It had come as quite a surprise to Cliff that barricading himself in his apartment would prove the best survival mechanism against the rage-infected. But about a week after the outbreak had started, the infected had abandoned most residences and taken to the streets. Cliff had managed to remain quiet enough to stay undetected so far; however, with nothing left to feed him, his options seemed slim.
Still, Cliff did not wish to immediately abandon his home on a whim. He sat down and smoked a cigarette, flipping through an old Playboy he'd read about a dozen times since the incident had started. After growing bored with the James Franco interview article, Cliff retired the magazine to the pile it had been laying in and opened the bottom left-hand drawer on his coffee table. From the drawer he withdrew a blood stained two-way radio that he had recovered off the body of a dead soldier in the one time he'd been brave enough to venture downstairs.
"Maybe today's forecast will be more promising," Cliff said to himself while figuring it to be untrue.
He clicked the dial at the top of the radio and sat it down on the table, kicking his feet up after doing so. A repeating layer of unbroken static emitted for the next ten minutes. Cliff leaned forward and, sighing, he shut the radio off and returned it to the drawer.
"Or, maybe not..."
He stood once more. A slight pain spread across his stomach as it growled. Cliff realized that the average person could go a few days without food, but he also realized that a potential rescue would most likely take more than a few days. Moving towards the coat rack, Cliff slid each arm into the respective sleeve of his dads green Marine Corps jacket, and then placed his cigarettes and lighter into one of the pockets.
He had no weapon. If he was to reach the grocery store or a gas station, he would have to be as stealthy as possible against the feral minded rage-infected. Slowly, he unbarricaded the door item by item and then unbolted the latch. Heading down the stairs, he made his way passed a few disfigured, decomposing corpses and out the door of his apartment complex onto the streets.
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Silva unslung the 30-30 lever action and held it out for the girl. The rifle big enough that when it came down to it she wcould keep her distance from the target and be able to drop it without haveing to go through as many rounds as she would have to with the pistol, but small enough that it didn't nearly jump out of your hands when you fired it like the 30-06 did.
"You know how to aim a gun right?" Silva asked before completely giveing it to her, if she didn't know then a gun at this point would be useless.
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He remembered the day that they had died. In fact, he had watched from his apartment window. The rampaging infected had rushed them so fast that the soldiers barely had time to react, managing to squeeze off only a couple of rounds. Their weapons were scattered near their corpses. Cliff examined them, but they all appeared to be in bad condition due to a combination of weather effects over time and because of the damage they had received during the struggle against the humans that had been infected by the rage virus. Cliff dropped the assault rifle and continued forward, crouching as close to the ground as he could while moving.
Soon, the road gave way to a big square that housed a bank. As he entered the banks parking lot Cliff slowed to a halt. There were a few miscellaneous corpses strewn across the lot, and one of them was now slowly struggling to it's feet. There appeared to be what looked like two bullet-sized holes in it's chest. It's A&F Polo was torn and covered in blood. Whether it was just the person's own blood, or their blood plus the blood of someone else had yet to be determined.
Without thinking Cliff had ducked and was now residing behind a tattered police car opposite the unknown person. He leaned his back against the wheel, making sure it consumed his features so that he could not be distinguished. He would need to think of a new plan quickly. From what he understood, the humans infected with the rage virus had a heightened sense of smell, and it would only be a matter of time before this one distinguished that there was nearby prey.
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Silva pionted to each end. Silva knew alot of people didn't like guns but right now likes an dislikes were irrelevant. Silva had just found this girl and did not wan to lose the only person he has talked to in several months because he didn't properly equip her.
"As soon as you gather all the food and say your good byes to the house, we leave." Silva said walking out the garage door.
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He would keep out of sight and out of mind, and he would survive because he wants stupid. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't Rambo, and he wasn't a mole hiding in his damn house. No, he was simply a teenager trying to survive the chaos, that was all. A straggler in a world trying to eat him. His long brown hair he had tied into a long ponytail to keep out of his face as he didnt want it messing with his vision in case the hungry monsters tried to make a meal out of him.
On his left stood a empty looking, and he stresses looking 7/11. He quietly walked to the door and pushed it open with his bat, watching that shadows for movement and listening for any moaning. He heard none, so he slid in and with the doors closed he turned and slide the rifle between the two metal prongs. The door wouldn't be able to be pushed open, sure it wasn't the most tactful but it kept the door shut to the outside world which is about as safe as one could be fore a while. In these close quarters a rifle would be useless anyways... although the thought didn't keep his hands from shaking.
He carefully checked every closet, aisle, and behind the counters and found nothing. It was odd that he found nothing, he expected at least 1 zombie or maybe a few zombies. In fact the aisles themselves were fine, even fully stocked which was even stranger. The chaos of the initial outbreak caused many people to go looting but it was as if this little gas station was an Oasis of the old world. He moved down the aisles, it was so surreal although he would have liked lights but asking for electricity is a little too much. He grabbed chips and a bottle of water, happy to have some food as he didn't like looking. The door to the 7/11 was blocked off by the rifle, so he didnt have to worry about sneaking up on him, and for the first time in weeks he was able to relax.
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"I think just in case we should stop at a gas station and pick up the rest of the gas cans there then we can use the manual pump, that they usually have in the little machines." Silva suggested, he had spent his time before everything totally hit the fan but still looked grim, inorder to research things in the city that would allow him to be able to provide heat fuel and food to survive.
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It was true, his dad taught him how to shoot fight, and how to solve complex equations used for long range shooting. But he never taught him how to drive, and come to think of it Silva never asked or even thought about driveing. Yeah he had driven on video games and stuff like that before, but not in real life.
"Well do you know at all how to drive, cause i've never got behind the wheel,ever." Silva looked back at the girl, speaking of which he had not found out the name of. "Hey by the way what's your name?"
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He took this time to mourn a little, but not too long before deciding that getting prepared is probably a good idea. So he took a few things out of the garage; a metal baseball bat, which he tied to his back with a bungee cord and some duct tape. Two hatchets - a sharp but quick hand-axe, about half the size of a regular axe which he put them in their respective cases and taped them onto his pants; making it easy for him to take them out in case he needed them. He even found some cleats, and managed to put some small nails through the front of them - flat end towards the toes, obviously - and would probably hurt like a bitch if you kicked someone now. He was about to remove the barricades from his door, when he remembered one last thing; his prized eagle knife, which he called 'Annie'. His eyes gleamed evilly as he picked up that ungodly blade; a 15 inch blade, sharp as can be. He grabbed his small sharpening stone and shoved it in his jacket - which had pretty big pockets considering its size - and made his escape. Which you don't need to hear about since he actually only met one of those freaks, and killed it by stabbing it through the back of the head with Annie a few times while it was just standing around looking pretty. How nice.
But returning to present time, Gawain realized that in his rush, he had forgotten to grab two of the most important things of all; food and water. But considering that there was a 7/11 'conveniently stored' nearby, it really wasn't all that big of a deal. That is, if you consider that there a rifle barring the way of the door. He raised his knuckle to the glass, and knocked on the door.
"Hey! Is there anybody in there? If there is, do ya think you could, you know, open the door? I'm kind of in need of supplies and stuff.. and yeah, open it. Today. Possibly even now." Gawain called out. Not the smartest idea in the world, but then again, Gawain wasn't the smartest person in the world.
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He quietly moved to the door the gun still wedge. He took a moment to stop and look at the man outside. He was armed with a knife, albeit a big knife but nothing to have to worry about. Worse was out there than a stupid guy with a knife, although he wanted to be far away from this guy as soon as possible. Anyone who screams in this world just because a door is locked is not someone he wanted to be around. His survival came first, and it would be impossible unless he was with people that stopped and asked Why? Once in awhile.
He took the rifle out of the door, and held it loosely in his hands before stepping back. Once the man came in he would stand by the door to ensure it never opened. He did not trust the new man, and would shoot him if he did. He had done worse in these times, he didn’t trust anyone anymore.
- 60 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
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View All » Add Character » 13 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Alison Cameron
"Great job. Gonna miss you. Want to start missing you as soon as possible."
Cliff Ronen
A sardonic part-Irish man
Jared Cooke
"They can't get you if you can fly..."
Gawain Fitzpatrick
"Oh, I do like my knives.. yeeeeesss.."
Silva Kimber
"Distance is your friend."
Walter Oliveira
"What cruel world is this where the beloved Texting does not extend!?!"
Trending
Cliff Ronen
A sardonic part-Irish man
Gawain Fitzpatrick
"Oh, I do like my knives.. yeeeeesss.."
Alison Cameron
"Great job. Gonna miss you. Want to start missing you as soon as possible."
Walter Oliveira
"What cruel world is this where the beloved Texting does not extend!?!"
Jared Cooke
"They can't get you if you can fly..."
Silva Kimber
"Distance is your friend."
Most Followed
Silva Kimber
"Distance is your friend."
Walter Oliveira
"What cruel world is this where the beloved Texting does not extend!?!"
Jared Cooke
"They can't get you if you can fly..."
Alison Cameron
"Great job. Gonna miss you. Want to start missing you as soon as possible."
Gawain Fitzpatrick
"Oh, I do like my knives.. yeeeeesss.."
Cliff Ronen
A sardonic part-Irish man
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60 posts · 13 characters present · last post 2011-03-28 13:18:07 »
Amirillo, Texas. Owner: MEH
Hot and dangerous place to be
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Rage Disease: Out of Character
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Rage disease.
1, 2by MEH on Mon Mar 14, 2011 10:36 pm
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- Last post by Zuratul
on Fri Apr 08, 2011 10:15 am
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Rage disease.
Most recent OOC posts in Rage Disease
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Although if he does come back by some miracle, then we can save him.. but still leave him behind, the same way he left us RPers behind. :P
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
He should expect to see Gawain at his doorstep some time soon.. hehe..
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Hurry up, Penguin!
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Or the villain. Or both at the same time.
Villainous, humourous, and totally not mind-raping at all. That's me.
Shut up, me.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
I think Gawain is going to a) "accidently" stab one of his friends or b) be sent on a kamikaze suicide mission to save everyone or c) merely thrown the infected to die.
Or even combination of all three.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
So yeah.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
I'll just conveniently show up at that gas station because I can. And you wouldn't say no to a crazy midget with knives, would you?
EDIT: Also, this is an eagle knife.
I actually own one. It's awesome.
Edit #2: I won't be able to post tomorrow, and for half of Friday. So yeah. Having a life is a terrible thing, isn't it? ^^
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
Also smoke is not a smart idea either. Zombies are rather curious creatures from what I have seen and a giant pillar of smoke would pretty much be saying “HEY! COME CHECK THIS OUT!” and than they smell you and game over, personally I think simply walking. No super powers, no super equipment is needed to survive. Id much rather have a pistol and a mace than any other weapons, but I don’t own either of those so I have to use what I have in my house a rifle, bat, and pocketknife.
Re: [OOC] Rage disease.
(And yes my dad was specail forces for 8 years and a Scout sniper for 15 he has passed many of his skills down to me for which i am greatful.)