Introduction
BASICS OF GAME PLAY:
1. Only normal human characters are allowed, no superpowers/abilities etc.
2. This is a realistic RPG (with the exception of the bodies of the recent dead walking around eating people).
3. MUST POST at least ONCE every THREE DAYS, if you are unable to do so then please DO NOT join.
4. Characters that remain inactive more then 5 days will be turned into a zombie and will eventually get a steel pipe smashed to their skull.
5. Please have a few NRPC's with your submitted character, this is a zombie RPG after all, someone needs to die
THE PRISON
Elements of the RPG that players are aware of/should know about:
1. No one knows how the Zombie phenomenon all started? Nor how far the phenomenon has spread?
2. No one knows how they came to be in prison and in a cell.
3. Everyone wakes up at the exact same time
4. When it starts all characters are locked in their cells.
5. Food and supplies are running out.
6. If anyone can make it over the wall they can escape.
7. No one possess a weapon at the beginning.
8. Try to keep the environment in mind, for instance, not every door or part of the prison can just be gotten into.
9. Each group starts off in their own cell block.
YOUR CELLS
THE PLOT:
Groups of people, some prisoners, others regular people, are locked away in several cell blocks. Will they work together to save themselves?
Food is running out, each group is trapped in their own cell block and must break out, some plot twists, and of course there are Zombies every where
THE COURTYARD (packed with hungry Zombies)
GUARD TOWER (empty?)
Available Characters:
You can create any kind of character that you want (within reason), they can be inmates, average person, Bartender, House wife etc. However, no one can possess superpowers, physic ability etc, this is a realistic RPG
Characters must still be approved
1. Pete Brown (Wadejackel)
2. You
3. You
4. You
5. You
6. You
7. You
8. You
THE ONLY WALL YOU CAN POSSIBLY GET OVER
Character Shelly
- Code: Select all
Name:
Appearance: (an image is preferable. No anime please)
Gender:
Age:
Height:
Weight:
Eyes:
Hair:
Personality:
Weapons: No one has any weapons at the beginning
Which cell block are you in:
Position in your cell block: (leader/member of group etc)
History/Background:
- 71 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 11 authors
Setting
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The right end of the prison complex was walled off by concrete buildings and an immense wall behind, these structures once served as housing for those staff members who were hired as full time personnel. These days the buildings were of little use, largely utilized as storage space for the accumulated bits of junk which never seemed to leave the grounds of the complex.
To the left the courtyard was cut off by the splayed structures of Cell blocks four and five, each of the six enclosures were blocked off in this manner, the compiled structures all set in a fan arrangement. Either by accident or providence there were only two courtyards which one could gain access, one belonging to the grassy plain and the other being the courtyard used by prisoners for their one hour exercise period, the former serving more for the beautification of the dreary complex; but now soured by the festering walking dead.
The epicenter of this vast monument to the immorality and brutality of mans baser characteristics, was the stubby octagonal tower to which each cell block was structurally connected. The circular building was a complex unto itself, potentially self sufficient from the cell blocks that issued from it. Each block had its own facilities and could operate independently of the center administration complex. This particular facet of its construction also had the potential to quill riots or at least prevent an outbreak into sensitive areas.
Setting
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The six cell blocks lack much in comparison to the majestic, yet pudgy semi-tower. The blocks were dingy and reeking of body odor, sweat and the occasional inopportune release of urine upon the concrete floor. This most detestable living space had been barely brought up to modern standards of incarceration, the maintenance staff were obscenely deficient in their painting duties. Save for the installment of bright fluorescent overhead lighting fixtures, nothing has changed since the construction of the prison more then 100 years before.
The sickly hued coloration of the original cell walls bled through the haphazard sploshing of the new-fangled color scheme. The barriers which kept the prisoners from wandering the halls of the prison betrayed their age to showcase the harshness of a bygone era. The bonded bars of modern jail cells were virtually nonexistent in the era of Enlightenment, still remaining were the iron slated doors with their floor level square openings.
Such is the case with the few dozen inmates still locked within their cells. These were the last of those who..........
The Allensworth correctional facility was devoid of staff, its guard and even its obsessively dedicated warden. The bodies of the inmates which once packed the cells and hallways of Allensworth had been carted away, and with the absence of these heated forms the cold was able to reclaim the complex.
The prison had stood witness to some of the most amazing displays of brutality and carnage, though it had never experienced the horror of complete emptiness, for even before the prison was fully completed in 1843, it already housed its first one hundred inmates. Its total capacity being 550 prisoners.
The cot was a scratchy thing, made from bundled hay wrapped in poorly refined wool and mounted on a half-rotted wood platform. In the corner was what Nico presumed was a bucket, though the discoloration of rust and excrement made it difficult to tell. Every wall around him was stone, though one wall had a door as equally discolored as the bucket, shut to complete the enclosure.
With his moment of clarity gone, Nico only had the sense to shout, assuming his companions from the night before would be near.
"Mullin, you bloody git! You out there? Vladimir, you damned Ruskie! What are we locked up for?" His voice weakened by the booze, and likely muted by the walls, Nico could only hope he was heard.
He walked over to the bars grabbing them with an iron grip as stubborn as the iron bars, themselves. Pushing and pulling, shaking, he would grit his teeth in frustration at the discovery that it was locked. He would turn taking a step, struggling to contain his emotion, but in a flash of movement and a a great sigh he delivered a powerful punch to one of the old, worn white walls. Small cracks, so very faint would appear to reveal the great age, blood flowing gently down his fingers from now opened cuts on his knuckles. Pain shooting up his now quaking arm as he struggled to subdue such anger, he would fall back to the cot ripping the ripped shirt from his body in frustration, until it was in bits. Then leaning his head back against the wall he would run his fingers through his now damp hair, struggling to think of a solution to this all too, uncomfortable problem.
He made is way over to a spot in the cell, One where water was dripping down and making a puddle on the floor. He held his hand out and collected a bit of the water, And rubbed it on his face, Shaking his head and giving himself a light slap, Trying to clear up his vision. He moved over to the dor and bent down to the hole, looking out over the place. "Well, This sucks."
Pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking the blurriness from his eyes, he looked out the cell, across the corridor, to see Vladimir in the cell opposite. "Oh wow, you look like shit."
Moving up to the bars, he called down the hallway, "Heeey! Any guards around here? Where the hell are you?!"
Setting
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He walked over to the window and looked outside. He staggered back and held his hand to his mouth. He used his hand to keep himself up right
"Wh- what the hell is going on?" he said softly to himself
The pain would still be fresh on his body, more so following the foolish punch to the wall. He would scold himself for the lack of control, "As for who I am, Colten. And you are?" It would be said with sincerity and he would extend his hand with an air of confidence in an attempt to put her at ease. He was heavy at work planning, perhaps she could help in the escape of the cell, though her nervous antics and noble disposition, made him quite sure she didn't have the proper skill set for such a task.
"Mullin, do you remember what that guy hit me with? Was it just his fist, or was he wearing brass knuckles or something, huh? My head hasn't hurt this bad since the demo mission in Mozambique."
As a tear crept along the edge of her eye he would pull his arm from his side to wipe it away with his thumb, being careful not to be forceful, and to not let the rest of his fingertips rest in her hair. "I can promise you this, once we get out of here, and we will." Thoughts of his past would bubble in his mind, shifting and bringing him to realizations as he would speak, perhaps looking slightly out of it and unfocused for a brief moment before his gaze upon her returning to be acute and attentive. "They'll wish they hadn't locked us up." His smile would return.
Jo Darling pushed herself up onto her elbows and tried to survey her surroundings, though her eyes were still blurry. When they cleared, her large, blue orbs widened, and she pushed herself all the way into a sitting position. "What the fuck..." she mumbled, and put one hand over her thin, flat stomach, which was churning. "Where am I?"
But she already knew where she was. As Jo stared at the bars that separated her from the hallway, she cussed loudly, and ran her hand through her fiery red hair. She was in jail. Really? Come on. I mean, she hadn't killed anyone in a long time. Hadn't she? The last thing she could remember was a dimly lit room with a man who she didn't know, and the pills that slid down her throat, and lit her veins on fire. What had happened?
Jo pushed herself to her feet, and noted that she was wearing what she had been that night, a black and white striped shirt and a short black skirt with boots. Her skin crawled as the cold, dingy air pushed against her legs, and she tucked her hands into her sleeves as she walked up to the rusting bars. A large number 3 was painted across the hall from her. Block 3? She could tell this was an old prison. She couldn't hear anyone else. Where were the guards? Where were the lights? She had no idea whether or not it was day or not, and she tried to push her head out of the bars to examine her surroundings, but she couldn't. It was then that she heard a shout. Something about being bored? Where the fuck was she?
"Hello?!" she called out. "Hello?!" She half expected a guard to rap on the bars and tell her to shut up, but nothing happened. Ears perked and ready for a response, she leaned against the bars and listened hard, trying to find anything but the whistle of the wind, and the scurry of the rat that crawled around in the corner of her cell, obviously just as miserable as she.
"And look at it like this, if something was not wrong, guard would have come by now to stop banging, Da?"
He gave the cell door a hard kick, rattling it. Again and again he kicked, working it loose.
"Nico, the guy came at you with a bottle. You were completely justified in punching him in the face."
He would smile to himself walking to the sink, with a steel grip he would work the pipe until it came loose, curved at the bottom, the sink would dip down, hanging to the wall. He would wield the rusted tool tossing it up and catching it in a nonchalant and medial manner that made in his mind clear what he was doing. He would look to Rachelle with a concerned look, "I'm going to get us out of here," With one great heave, his muscles bundling sore, but years of baseball and exercise had made his swing true and precise, and devastating to the metal. It would create a massive clang, repelling the pipe, sending shock waves of intense pain up his arms. But he held it true, prepared to deliver another swing. Much to his relief however it had come loose, banged and dented, he struggle to get the pipe under it at the rim and pried for several seconds until with a loud pop it came off.
One down, two to go.
He would pull in and out on the door shaking it, it was clear it was on the verge of giving in, he felt fresh sweat on his forehead, under his arms, at his chest. He would lift a dirty hand to wipe it from his brow. He would give a deep sigh. For the first time thinking that perhaps people were in the other cells. If there were, they had yet to make themselves known. Surveying the outside he saw only other barred doors, white crawling walls, and a wooden bench. The vague image of lettering having been pulled apart with age. Reeling back with one quick, yet powerful blow the door fell and he would quickly put his weight into it, working it so that it fell into the hallway.
He would wield the pipe with a silent pride, at the ready for whatever challenge next presented itself. He would look to the woman, "Are you coming, Rachelle? Perhaps it'd be safer if you waited here while I checked our surroundings." He would give her a bright and stern smile letting the pipe hang loosely at his side.
- 71 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
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View All » Add Character » 14 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Chou Baey
If you look hard enough miracles can be found all around you
Vladimir Vavilov
Is fond of any alcoholic beverage that doesn't taste like crap.
Nico Jones
'Retired' gun for hire, fond of vodka and pasta, though never at the same time.
Rachelle LaRue
"I dont know why they fuss. Mother and father will have me out in a jiffy."
Jo Darling
"Well this is exciting."
Colten Gray
"As if they rose from the dead to be a pain in my ass."
Trending
Nico Jones
'Retired' gun for hire, fond of vodka and pasta, though never at the same time.
Jo Darling
"Well this is exciting."
Chou Baey
If you look hard enough miracles can be found all around you
Rachelle LaRue
"I dont know why they fuss. Mother and father will have me out in a jiffy."
Colten Gray
"As if they rose from the dead to be a pain in my ass."
Vladimir Vavilov
Is fond of any alcoholic beverage that doesn't taste like crap.
Most Followed
Jo Darling
"Well this is exciting."
Nico Jones
'Retired' gun for hire, fond of vodka and pasta, though never at the same time.
Vladimir Vavilov
Is fond of any alcoholic beverage that doesn't taste like crap.
Colten Gray
"As if they rose from the dead to be a pain in my ass."
Rachelle LaRue
"I dont know why they fuss. Mother and father will have me out in a jiffy."
Chou Baey
If you look hard enough miracles can be found all around you
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Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Torture Prison of the Living Dead: Out of Character
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Torture Prison of the Living Dead
1, 2, 3by WadeJackel on Tue Oct 30, 2012 2:01 pm
- 56 Replies
- 1766 Views
- Last post by Merchant
on Fri Nov 16, 2012 1:06 am
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Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Most recent OOC posts in Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Think dropping out is irresponsible.
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
I had to inform Missing and the others that we are moving on without thier characters, now even more zombies inside ;)
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Just a bad deal. I know you COULD do it, but it'd be improbable I would imagine with odds stacked against him, and so if it turns into two targets fighting, I imagine the chances go up. Besides, your character is the only character in Cell Block 5 that could help Colten at all in fighting, since Rachelle is a hesitant pregnant lady. X)
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Granted I believe my chances are next to nil and I'm pushing probability. But I don't expect the others to make it. At all. Chou will have to be realistic and sacrifice the others.
I chose Wing Chun because it is fast and precise. I know it might like in strength but seemed perfect against zombies. Also check out 'Human Weapon wing chun.' It mentions about the force behind the rapid punches.
In the end I'll just have to see if wade kills me off while being realistic and not be on god mode.
Edit:
I just read your character came down. *chuckles* I hope I haven't killed us both. Thanks for the assist though. This should be interesting.
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
how many zombies are there in that little area?
Re: Torture Prison of the Living Dead
Ice
Nad
Please.post,your.chars.are.close.to.being.killed.off