Kan
Elite Member
I.Y.A.A.Y.A.S.
Posts: 2,361
|
Post by Kan on Aug 4, 2008 23:50:42 GMT
In accordance with Rei's earlier rp this is set in the RE game universe with some slight changes as it follows our Retcon of the canon.
The date is September 28th 1998, three days before Raccoon City's destruction, months after the mansion incident when the leader of the famous S.TA.R.S unit, Reimari Nakatsuji, betrayed the others, the result being the death of all but four STARS members, James Hardner, Nathan 'Nate' Reynolds, Adamo De Luca, and Brad Vickers, the rest of Alpha team dead, along with all of Bravo.
Soon after the incident most of the remaining STARS members left the city to parts unknown, to bring the fight to the Umbrella corporation.
Now four days after the initial outbreak the city lies in ruins, many of the police force dead or dying from failed defenses and attacks against the undead, and many more civilians dead, each adding to the rising army of undead.
Two days prior the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service (UBCS) arrived in the city in an effort to aid and help the evacuation of civilians, however this is not to be, shortly after landing the remaining RPD officers make a last stand against the undead menace, a few UBSC taking a part in the battle.
Very quickly however the battled turn into a slaughter, with the many if not all the remaining officers being killed and turned. The UBSC, while being better equipped and prepared for this situation, did not far much better, between betrayals and plain old losing their numbers dwindled fast, leaving only a handful, if that.
Many survivors have noticed the Army barricade around the city has begun to be removed, hinting an ominous ended to this nightmare.
The RP:
Ok this RP takes place at the same time as the first half of RE3, one day before the events of RE2. Now the outbreak has been happening for a good couple of days now, thinning the ranks of the living so remember this.
Rules
Alright we know the usual, no trenchcoaters of trenching, no god modding and blah blah blah.
Now on to rp specific rules.
- No STARS members, even if you had one in the original, the only way I may allow one is if you ask me, but this is only for those who were in the original.
-NO BOWs, or t-virus infected things, this includes Wesker like powers.
-No Exosuits or power suits or anything like that.
-I and only select people will control the higher level monsters, IE Nemesis and the tyrants, I will let these members know who they are before I start the RP.
-You can be a civilian, surviving RPD member, UBSC or anything in between.
-No weapons or items created or put into general availability after 1998, IE no MP7s, P90s or other weapons.
- No Canon characters! IE Leon or Claire.
-Do not allow things to drag on to long as we will be rping the last three days of the outbreak, and hopefully escaping the missile strike. (which none of our characters should know about that)
-If I do happen to allow a STARS character from the original Nemesis will hound them like no tomorrow.
-You are permitted two character slots but I ask you to wait on the second as I would prefer them to used for the side story which is based on RE2 which takes place in the RPD.
Characters:
Kan
Tom S. Jenkins
Scorp:
Kyle Remo
Oct:
Trenton "Trent" Reed
Roman:
Gordon Mcsweeney
Harry Turtledove.
Griggs:
Abraham Mitzen
Cleon:
David Lamayan
Rei:
Karen Garernazi
|
|
Kan
Elite Member
I.Y.A.A.Y.A.S.
Posts: 2,361
|
Post by Kan on Aug 4, 2008 23:55:35 GMT
Name: Tom S. Jenkins Sex: Male Race: White Age: 24 Height: 6'0 Weight: 180 lb Occupation: U.B.S.C.
During his UBCS days he looked like most other operatives, having wearing the same uniform. However that was were the similarities ended. He wore his blond hair close to his scalp, being more comfortable that way. He also obtained a long scar along his left shoulder and upper arm. His brown eyes also still showed traces of innocence even after seeing death. If he ever goes back to wearing this uniform he will look much the same. His general appearance when in uniform is that of a psychically fit man, with large muscles from his marine years.
During his USMC years Tom was a cheerful sort, not afriad to crack a joke, even during basic, something that got him into trouble quite a bit. But eventually he learned to keep his mouth shut in front of superiors, although that didn't stop him when their backs were turned. In reality his commanders didn't mind as long as he didn't undermine them, it helped keep moral up. Among other things as well was a slight lack of respect for authority, but this was literally beat out of him in basic. What wasn't though was his sense for justice and honor, which was actually strengthened by his training and has stayed with him sense. He was generally well liked for his being open in his thoughts and not afriad to stick up for someone.
During his last days as a Marine his unit was ambushed and killed, only Tom remaining alive, and just barely. Blamed for the death of his men he was sentenced to death, only to be bought out by Umbrella.
Now he has been dropped into raccoon city, again the only surviving member of his squad, an dis current fighting for his life in the god forsaken city.
OOC: I just ripped alot from my other RP site, you dont have to go into thsi kinda detail.
|
|
|
Post by Scorpio on Aug 5, 2008 23:40:44 GMT
Name: Kyle Remo Age: 29 Height: 6'5 Occupation: Private investigator
A PI working out of Las Vegas, hired by the family of a missing hiker to check out racoon city.
After a few days of dead ends, Remo took a night off in J's Bar for a few beers. Before a violent individual attacked the staff. Remo a racoon cop and an off duty security guard quickly opened fire on the man and soon led the other occupants to the safety of a police checkpoint after more similarly infected people attacked the bar.
Remo is a decent shot with handguns, having permits for a .475 wildey and a beretta M92. Both of which he currently carries.
He has currently been deputised by a cop he met during the first night and is working with the racoon PD. Directing survivors towards evacuation sites.
|
|
Oct-taku
Elite Member
Designated Forum Tech-Priest
Posts: 1,695
|
Post by Oct-taku on Aug 6, 2008 0:04:46 GMT
Name: Trenton "Trent" Reed Sex: Male Race: Causasian Age: 30ish Height: 5' 10" Weight: 135 lbs. Occupation: Hardware Store manager.
A native of Raccoon City, Trent is a serious sort of man, given to cracking jokes only when the situation warrants dark humor. When TSHTF, he holed up in his work place, gathering tools, parts, anything that could be useful. Along with a portable tool kit on his belt, he carries a hatchet, along with a variety of small, ad-hoc creations, such as traps and explosives.
|
|
|
Post by Captain Obvious on Aug 6, 2008 0:17:17 GMT
Name:Gordon Mcsweeney Age:38 Height:6'2 Occupation:RPD Officer.(Deputized) Skills:Navy Reservist.Piloting,Basic marksmanship.
Gordon is a quiet man who mostly keeps to himself.He was pressured by his military family to join the Navy and finally gave in at the age of 26.Gordon had been mostly a drifter, but the military's discipline made him shape up.After a two year tour of flying Blackhawk helicopters in Afghanistan, Gordon returned to the US and got a job flying for SouthWest.He flew, and became proficient with, several types of small airplanes.
After a ten year run with Southwest, Gordon came to Raccoon city to settle down.Noting the relatively high crime rates, he bought a AR-15 to protect himself.The RPD honorarily deputized him when he stopped a gas station robbery, though when the infected people started showing up, the RPD deputized him for real.
Gordon is currently assisting two more heavily armed RPD officers and a UBSC soldier in guiding a family to the evacuation sites.
Name:Harry Turtledove. Age:43 Height:6'5 Occupation:Writer Skills:Used to be in the mafia.Strangling, intimidation,making offers you can't refuse.
Harry owns the Winchester, aptly named for the Winchester rifle above the bar.He is a zombie induced single man who spends his days drinking and killing any ghouls that come by the bar on the days its been closed.Which is every day. Whenever a survivor stumbles upon the building Harry lets them stay in the upper rooms of the three story building.
Harry has the "tenants" search for supplies while he "holds down the fort".Holding down the fort usually means getting his blood alcohol level above .10.But hey, the system has worked out so far.
|
|
Kan
Elite Member
I.Y.A.A.Y.A.S.
Posts: 2,361
|
Post by Kan on Aug 6, 2008 0:28:38 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Griggs on Aug 8, 2008 0:16:28 GMT
NAME: Abraham Mitzen ORGANIZATION: Panhandle International, a Texas-based, private contracting company AGE: 37 HEIGHT: 6'1" EYES: Green HAIR: Brown SPECIALTIES: Navigation, wilderness survival, pistol marksmanship, boatsmanship (inland and shoreline) NATIONALITY: American
A 9-year veteran of Panhandle International ( a contracting company with the accurate slogan: Anything, Anywhere, Fast), Abe has traveled the world for a variety of clients, doing everything from simple package delivery to search and rescue. He is good at his job, acting out orders with efficiency and self-reliance, and is especially favored by the company to do tough jobs that require a good deal of finesse. Abe delivers.
Abe is in Raccoon City to visit his sister, the manager of a local supermarket. Abe decided to see what little Raccoon City had to offer in the way of bars, and before he knew it all hell was breaking loose. Now, he is holed up in Kimpsey's Bar and Grill with a few other survivors, armed only with his Panhandle 10th Anniversary folding knife and a whole lot of booze.
|
|
Ms. Cleo
Elite Member
Forum Troll!
Posts: 3,361
|
Post by Ms. Cleo on Aug 10, 2008 1:39:04 GMT
NAME: David Lamayan OCCUPATION: University Student AGE: 19 HEIGHT: 6'0'' WEIGHT: 174 lbs. BLOOD TYPE: O NATIONALITY: 2nd generation Filipino American (Ilonggo) SKILLS: Basic security guard training, basic firearms experience, advanced street fighting
PRE-OUTBREAK:
A typical student at Raccoon City's prestigious university, David used to get average grades in his nursing-oriented classes but excelled in the arts--namely his writing, acting, and music courses. More athletic than the average person, he boasts relatively high stamina due to the ROP security guard training he underwent in high school, though he puts all emphasis on strength training, but only his arms and chest. As a pre-teen, he would occasionally go fire the family rifles and store-rented handguns at the range downtown, and even go hunting deer once in awhile with his father.
Playing lead guitar and vocals in his thrash metal band, he has long, fine hair and a thin goatee. A rowdy youth has led to advanced street fighting skills, though now he is known by his friends as an honest intellectual and all-around nice person who thinks in abstract terms.
This is misleading. He does not panic and succeeds in hiding his emotions, he rarely talks about his deepest thoughts and never reveals his guarded secrets. Though a very caring individual that feels sorry for people, he is completely immune to begging, peer pressure, guilt-tripping, and even female persuasion-- in fact, he finds them extremely annoying. He is somewhat of a psychopath with a bad temper should anybody get on his bad side. David is secretly responsible for the murder of three gang members that tried to mug him as he was walking with a friend down a quiet street. He did not hesitate to turn the knife on his assaulters after he deceived them into thinking he was a helpless, clumsy coward before he striked.
He would usually be found wearing dark colored low boot cut jeans, tight T-shirts, and his trademark size 12 purple-colored hi-top Chucks.
THE OUTBREAK:
An obsession with zombie movies has well-prepared him for the throngs of undead corpses that have took through the streets, but he was not prepared at all for the virus-infected animals and gigantic spiders that invaded his dormitory. The only thing that saved David from dying in his sleep were the screams of pain from his roommate Joseph as he was attacked by a colossal arachnid. After trying in vain to rescue his friend by pounding on the monster with the desk chair, he was forced to jump out the window to flee for his life as another spider entered the room with its eyes on David.
Running through the panic and chaos of Raccoon City's streets and alleyways, he snuck into the Raccoon City Police Department -- which was relatively empty, probably due to the officers being dispatched throughout the city at the time -- from the underground parking garage to try and acquire some firearms and any useful gear. Managing to sneak into the locker room, he donned the uniform of a Select Police Force officer and simply ran out of the building with a 9mm pistol, a Benelli M3 shotgun, limited ammunition and some useful SWAT gear. Once out of the precinct, he stripped off the BDU jacket and the helmet as a comfort issue, preferring to have his arms exposed and his hair down.
He later came across several other people barricading a bar, including fellow students he knew casually who also survived the university massacre. Now part of a small band of citizens and armed with a pair of firearms he does not recognize, he waits tirelessly for help to arrive.
|
|
Kan
Elite Member
I.Y.A.A.Y.A.S.
Posts: 2,361
|
Post by Kan on Aug 10, 2008 20:26:12 GMT
OOC: Alright lets light this candle!
IC:
*Midday September 28th 1998*
I struggle not to cough or retch from the smell, even after two days in this hell hole I still can't get used to it. I continue running for my life, behind me I can hear a loud barking.
I stumbled onto a group of infected dogs a few minutes ago, they were eating a damn kid, I was stupid, stressed, still am. I fired on them, and took out a few, but the others, well lets just say they were not to happy.
I turn and hit a dead end, thankfully it seems another team managed to clear the area out, well relatively, of infected. I still can't come to call those souls zombies. I turn around as I hear the infected dogs get closer, I ready my rifle and shoulder it.
"You want me!? Well come and get me!" I shout before letting loose with my M4.
OOC: Right now lets go a few posts by ourselves then meet up.
|
|
|
Post by Captain Obvious on Aug 10, 2008 21:41:42 GMT
PFFFT
"Good shot." Gordon said, smiling at the soldier who had fired.The soldier, who's name was Tim Colleton, grinned back.Gordon didn't have a silencer for his AR-15, nor did the other two cops, but the UBSC soldier did.Umbrella came prepared it seemed.
"Come on, the chopper should still be waiting." Gordon said, beckoning the small family he was charged with protecting forward. Tim lead the way, wary for any infected lurking in the alleyways.They didn't waste any ammo on the ghouls that weren't an immediate threat.They didn't have much to begin with.
"Heyo! Gunshop here!." Tim called, pointing at a small shop at the corner of the street. He started to slow down. "We'll come back for it, civvies come first." Gordon replied.
"Alright, lets just hope we aren't gonna be sorry when we get there and the building is swarming with the bastards.Pardon my french ma'am." Tim said, glancing at the women in the middle of the soldiers."That's alright."The woman, or to be more specific, the mother said."I'd like to fu**ing kill whoever is responsible for this clusterfu**." She replied happily.
Everyone stopped and turned to look at the woman, who returned their stares."What? Charlotte can't understand me." She said, referring to the baby she carried in her arms.Tim smiled at Gordon, then turned back around, and continued walking.
---10 Minutes later---
'Thanks again." The woman said, stepping into the helicopter.The small group was standing on the roof of a apartment building, having safely reached the evacuation point.
"Your lucky you guys got here." One of the Umbrella men sitting in the chopper said, yelling to be heard above the powerful engine of the Blackhawk."We were about to leave, and you know how far a walk it would be if you guys were late."
"Yeah, we know." Gordon answered."Are there gonna be any more choppers?" He asked. "No, We're the last." The man said."Umbrella lost too many already." He closed the door before Gordon could say anything more."Great." Gordon thought to himself as he started walking down the fire escape.As soon as the chopper lifted off Gordon knew something was wrong.
He broke into a run, speeding down the fire escape to reach the alley below.He hadn't heard it above the prop wash of the chopper, but now he heard gunfire from the ground. As Gordon reached the lowest portion of the fire escape he saw what was happening.Four infected dogs were jumping and running crazily through the alley, attacking Tim and one of the other RPD cops.Two more were dead on the ground.
The second cop lay unmoving, his face a bloody pulp. Gordon pulled his AR-15 off his back, shouldered it, and started firing at the dogs.The last cop turned his M14 to "rock and roll" and unloaded his entire clip into one of the infected animals, shredding it.Gordon managed to kill another just as Tim screamed something, dropped his rifle, and pulled out his Beretta.As he flipped the safety off a dog jumped directly towards his face.Tim barely had time to bring the gun up and fire before the beast was on top of him.
"NO!" Gordon yelled, firing a three round burst that caught the dog square in the side.It dropped off of Tim, who struggled to a sitting position and continued firing at the last two. The cop thumbed the magazine release on his M14 and reached for another clip as one of the dogs ran behind him and bit his ankle with a sickening crunch.
The cop screamed in agony and fell to the ground.He tried to maneuver his rifle to hit the dog, but its length worked against him as the dog jumped on his chest and began tearing at his neck.Tim fired two rounds as the dog, killing it, but it was already too late.The infected dog had ripped the man's throat out before it had died.Tim and Gordon both fired at the last dog as it tried to run away and watched as their bullets ripped it apart.
Gordon jumped down the last flight of stairs and ran over to Tim.It wasn't pretty.Tim had lost a big chunk of his shoulder and part of his arm when the dog had mauled him, and blood was pouring out of him."Sh-sh** man, I'm not gonna make it."Tim said, holding his good armd against his shoulder."Your gonna make it, just hold on." Gordon said as he ripped off a piece of Tim's shirt and used it to bandage his arm."You know what happens when they bite you, you have to do it, man." Tim replied shakily."No, it's gonna be ok.I'm gonna grab the medkit, I'll be right back." Gordon said, hurrying to the first dead cop and taking his backpack.
He turned just in time to see Tim shoot himself in the head with his pistol.
OOC: Sorry for the long post.
|
|
|
Post by Scorpio on Aug 10, 2008 22:47:16 GMT
Remo ran into the main area of the garage to see the other survivors firing outwards. Something was scratching loudly outside, several somethings.
"What's the news?" He asked a doctor checking over a body.
"They're like big...bug people, nasty suckers too." He rolled the body over showing a gaping wound in the back of the head. "and I mean SUCKERS."
Okay, I'll go up top and give some noise exchange. Get the survivors out the back and get ready to light this place. Give me a fair warning and then go for the police station.
"Gotcha."
Remo took a service ladder to the roof and drew his Widley, looking over the side to see the attackers. Huge misshapen bug like things, little bit of human shape to them as well, plus the large tube like mouth apparently for feeding.
BLAM BLAM "Up here uglies!"
They were a lot more breakable than the zombies, a shot a piece caused them to drop whole chunks out. The brain suckers climbed the walls to attack.
"Bring it on up. I got plenty." He tucked his .475 into his belt and drew his beretta. Two shots to each one that got near him, more were coming though.
"Remo! We're lighting now!" A cop from the survivor group lit a trail of gasoline they'd set up as they retreated. Remo took a running leap onto the next rooftop (ooc: small ass gap between them) and kept moving, the suckers hung around chittering around the garage wondering what was happening....and what that smell was?
PHWOOOOM!
"Christ!" Remo dropped off the next roof landing in a pile of trash bags, standing up and dusting himself off. Could have been a worse landing.
|
|
|
Post by Griggs on Aug 11, 2008 3:31:11 GMT
Abe took a swig from his whiskey bottle, then put it down, then picked it back up for another swig. It was dark because the power was out, but the emergency generator that kept the beer cold also lit a few key lights. From his position at the bar, Abe could see the whole bar. There were about 8 other survivors, the bartender among them. None were armed with anything but knives but the bartender, who had a pump action shotgun behind the bar with him. It was all fairly quiet but for the sounds of the dead outside. Several were at the gates, so to speak, but the doors and windows had all been firmly secured with 5-ply plywood the proprietor kept in the basement in case of riots.
Abe didn't think the situation was bad, as he had seen that many who were caught unprepared had been quickly slaughtered. However, it could be a lot better. Everyone in the bar was drunk, several to the point of stupor. If any dead managed to get in, they would be thoroughly screwed with only one gun and a bunch of drunken brawlers. Still, Abe felt fairly secure behind their makeshift fortifications, and they had enough food and drink to last fortnight on tight rations.
Feeling the call of nature, Abe got up and moved past the small groups of drunks, nodding to the bartender as he moved to the stairs. Using the toilet would mean wasting potable water, so he would have to go the one place that didn't mean polluting the bar- the roof.
The fresh Colorado air hit him as he opened the door to the roof, tinged with the odor of decay. It didn't smell too bad, not with so many places to go, but there was no masking it with so many zombies walking around. After a minute, however, he had gotten used to it. With a feeling of irony, Abe let loose over the edge of the building onto the small moat of zombies. They did not react but to look at him stupidly and make groaning noises. Liking the momentary solitude, Abe sat down upon the air conditioning unit and surveyed the city for a while, nursing his whiskey bottle from time to time.
|
|
Ms. Cleo
Elite Member
Forum Troll!
Posts: 3,361
|
Post by Ms. Cleo on Aug 11, 2008 7:05:28 GMT
"It's another one of those tongue things." I whisper to my fellow sentries watching the back door barricade of the bar of the weird blind monster with a long tongue crawling outside the alleyway.
"Go tell the others to keep as quiet as possible." The old man orders me quietly.
That was the second time we saw these tongue things. The first time we came across it, two of them were crawling around upstairs. We lost a man as he was on the toilet. They must have heard his gas passing and they broke through the door. He screamed the same scream we've been hearing so commonly echoing throughout the streets for the past couple of days now, and we were too late to save him.
Lost another two guys trying to kill the damn things. I knew one of them well, too. He was some stoner kid in my Scene Studies class, kind of dimwitted but a really nice person. Only thing that took them out were the shotguns, and I noticed their blindness as they searched for us while we were silent.
Hopefully we can avoid another incident like that tonight.
"Hey," I approach the closest group of people sitting by the bar sharing a bottle of whiskey, "There's another one of those tongue things lurkin' behind the bar outside. Spread the word to keep it quiet, yeah?"
|
|
Kan
Elite Member
I.Y.A.A.Y.A.S.
Posts: 2,361
|
Post by Kan on Aug 11, 2008 19:18:09 GMT
I had prolonged my life momentarily when I killed those dogs, but if I don't find a safe place to rest I won't even be able to defend my self from the dim witted infected.
I continue walking down the ruined street, moans coming at me from all directions. None to close though, I figured out early these infected were dumber than sh*t, easy to avoid. I begin to walk past a gas station and stop. I need to get to the clocktower for extraction, this being very difficult as of the fact I have no idea where the hell I am.
I make sure my rifle is off of safe and enter the building. My red filtered combat light shining into the dark room, the windows being boarded up. I manage to find the light switch just as I hear a gun shot being fired from the back, the flash of it catching my eyes. I start dashing towards the back of the store, where drink holders and coolers were broken, open and their contents spilt or hot. I make it in time to see another UBCS member in a scuffle with one of the infected. Sadly before I can do anything I see the infected take a chunk out of the man's shoulder.
I shout, "No!" before raising my rifle and letting loose into it, without regarding my ammo stores. The thing falls backward into a pile of it's own grime before I go over to it and smash it's head in with my boot. I rush over to the wounded man and kneel down. "Damn it man, what happened?" I ask the man, who is grasping his shoulder. In between gasps he answers, "I came in the back, lost my light yesterday, was looking for the switch, God d*amn it, one of those assh*les must have gotten in behind me, damn it hurts" he groans before dragging him self to a intact cooler door and leans on it.
I try to help him but he pushes me away, "Get away damn it, you know what happens next, arghh" He half screams, I still reach to him, maybe I could help disinfect the wound or something. He again pushes me away, this time pulling his pistol out and aiming it at me, "I said get away" he says with a cool voice. I start to back away, then he begins to turn the pistol on himself. I rush to stop him, but fail as I watch the man's finger pull the trigger, sending a piece of lead through his head.
I let out a loud groan before standing up and looking around, no infected, this one must have been whoever was held up in here, the poor SOB happened to run into it. I shake my head in disgust but I know I have to do it. I police the body of my fallen comrade, taking his M4 magazines and his handgun magazines. I look him over for any form of map and find a folded up map of the city.
I silently thank the man and grab a beer from one of the coolers, "Heh still cold" I half chuckle before I pop the top and down it in a few gulps. I breath out and grab a bottle of water and place it in my pack. I look back at the man's body before walking out, making sure to avoid any close infected.
|
|
|
Post by Captain Obvious on Aug 11, 2008 19:55:42 GMT
Gordon walked silently down the streets of Raccoon.He had taken Tim's M-4 along with his AR-15, and was carrying enough ammunition to cut down a forest.Too bad he couldn't take the M-14 or the second M-4, but their weight and the M-14's rare ammo stopped him.Before leaving his old team, Gordon burned the bodies.The M-4 might come in handy if- no, WHEN he found survivors.Tim had carried a small shortwave radio with him, a radio that was now sitting in Gordon's backpack.For some reason it was jammed.
He was heading to the gunshop to pick up a duffel bag, and hopefully find some cigarettes.There were more ghouls on the street than there had been a half hour before, probably because of all the shooting in the alley.Gordon shakily drunk from one of his last bottles of water."Great, another item on the list of things that could easily kill me.Shopping." He thought to himself.Gordon had passed quite a few liquor stores on the way to the gunshop.It seemed they were a dime a dozen in this city.
He thought about making some molotovs and quickly thought against it.Many of the buildings were way to close together for him to safely use fire. As Gordon turned the last corner he saw a garbage truck smashed into a small pileup of cars.Many infected people were still strapped in to their seats, writhing and moaning and scratching at the windows."That garbage truck could come in handy..." He thought to himself, making a mental note to find a map and mark this location on it.
Gordon was in and out of the gunshop in about five minutes.People had raided the place for guns, and it looked like there was a shootout for some reason.several people laid dead on the floor with gaping whole in their chests.Almost none were dispatched by headshots, so it seemed they were human when they died.Gordon found what he was looking for behind the counter. He walked back into the streets.
"Yes, this truck could be very useful indeed." He thought, grinning widely.
|
|
Oct-taku
Elite Member
Designated Forum Tech-Priest
Posts: 1,695
|
Post by Oct-taku on Aug 11, 2008 21:22:00 GMT
It was time to go. That much was certain. Trent's food supplies had run out during those few days. Not too much food to be had at Handy Andy's. Just the water-cooler and the vending machines. But they wetre gone now.
BOOM
That would be one of his traps going off. Wait for it....
BOOM Bingo. Something had sprung the tripwire holding in the pins on those home-made grenades, the ones made from black powder and soda cans. Then, crawling along, likely, it had set off another, obliterating it's head.
Such stupid things, these zombies.
Okay, he'd said it.
|
|
Kan
Elite Member
I.Y.A.A.Y.A.S.
Posts: 2,361
|
Post by Kan on Aug 12, 2008 1:38:15 GMT
OOC: alright people, its time for......nemmeh! Basically his programming is to eliminate UBSC members, like Tom, and secondary STARS. And anyone who disturbs it, IE shooting it or those who get in the way of him fulfilling his programming.
For now I will be controlling Nemmeh, so unless it is obvious that he is near you, dont mention him or he will find you....if you catch my drift.
IC:
In an alley half way across the city a door slams outward, knocking a zombie to the ground as a figure bursts out, holding his bloody shoulder in pain, a panicked look on his face. As the man runs through the light one would see a yellow flak vest and jungle camo pants. The figure stumbles as the door he just exited from explodes outward.
The man drops his meager pistol as he stumbles up, his injury slowing him down as a even larger form steps through the hole used to be, a deep guttural voice groans, "S.T.A.R.S" as it walks toward the man, who by now has rounded the corner.
The man, who by now has seemed to lost the creature, continues running, searching for something, or someone to help him. He runs through a streetlight's light again, a name stitched onto his yellow vest, 'Vickers'.
He looks back and sees nothing but a few wandering zombies. He seems to recognize the surrounding and takes off, eventually making it to the entrance to the RPD building, which is strangely void of zombies or corpses even though evidence of battle is everywhere.
He takes a quick look around, with his face filled with panic and paranoia and runs to the door. Just as he attempts to go inside a deafening thud echoes from behind him, that same voice groaning...
"S.T.A.R.S....."
The man backs up to the door, fiddling desperately with the handles. He gives up and tries to run past the creature. The creature darts it's arm out and grabs Vickers by his yellow flak vest, ironic considering it's purpose, a fact that is lost on both Vickers and the monster.
The creature breaths out, it's rancid breath making Vickers want to upchuck, but somehow he manages to keep it down. The creature again speaks, "S.T.A.R.S." before raising his other hand.
(OOC: ok this might get a 'lil graphic so...kiddies....look away.)
Instead of making Vickers death a quick one the creature makes it a very painful and long death compared to it's main killing strike, the creature roars and grabs one of Vicker's legs, and pulls, ripping the leg off with Vickers letting out a deafening scream of pain. The leg is dropped, blood still running out of it, with even more pouring out Vickers's body.
The Monster grabs Vickers's head and throws him into the large wooden doors, making them wean and groan. Vickers moans in pain and struggles to pull himself away. If the monster did not have an inhibitor in it's brain it might have found the sight laughable, a man who that was clearly about to die, either by it's hand, blood loss, or infection still tries to flee and survive. But since the monster was equipped with a inhibitor it simply walked towards Vickers, who by now was screaming, in pain, terror, panic, who knows.
The monster powerfully stomps on Vickers's torso, the cracking of ribs and spinal bones hearable even over the man's screams, which only become louder. Blood begins to rise up in Vickers's throat, and the man is even unable to cough, drowning in his own body's liquids, his body having uncontrollable spasms, and his screams silenced, his lungs crushed. Vickers's eyes begin to bulge, a look of extreme pain on his face as the monster grabs him by the head and torso.
"S.T.A.R.S......"
The monster pulls and rips Vickers's head from his body, dropping the head and tossing the body behind it, it landing with a wet flop.
(OOC: ok the gorey bits are overwith.....yah pansy...)
The creature stops for a moment, as if thinking, then walks off, its voice changing slightly as its vocal cords access a series of letters. As it walks through the metal gates it opens it's mouth.
"U.B.S.C"
The metal gate squeaks as it moves back to it's orignial place, stopping enterance to the RPD building, the dull thuds of the creature's footsteps echoing...
OOC: WHEW THAT WAS AWESOME!!!
|
|
|
Post by Griggs on Aug 12, 2008 3:22:39 GMT
One more swig, and the bottle was finished. This being his second, Abe was now quite drunk, pitching the empty whiskey bottle over the edge of the building into the zombies. He missed by a mile, hitting the pavement some 10 feet away. Grumbling, Abe stumbled back downstairs. He heard the bartender and another survivor armed with a small pistol he hadn't seen earlier talking about some shadows flitting in and out of sight outside. Abe, too drunk to care, slumped against a chair and fell asleep.
|
|
|
Post by Captain Obvious on Aug 12, 2008 16:33:45 GMT
* HOOONK HOOOOOONK*
Gordon pulled the horn again.He only pulled it when he saw what looked like a group of survivors, unless he wanted to become a cross between the pied piper and the turtle and the hare.But instead of losing, the hare gets eaten alive.
He had taken the keys from the driver who happened to be one of the shooters from the gunshop.Gordon had spent a few minutes gassing it up from a nearby petrol station and putting enough guns and ammo to win a war against russia in the back.After he flipped the back and dropped the small amount of garbage inside, of courseThat had drawn a few zeds and something that looked like an inside out lizard man.A load of buckshot to the head made it go down pretty quick, though it looked like they could walk on walls.
"Gotta be careful none of them jump on top, or else ill have some Indiana Jones sh** going on." Gordon said to nobody in particular. He had found a burned out garage, unluckily.The gunshop had a map inside, and Gordon had been hoping to cut a whole in the roof of the driving compartment.That way if he was surrounded he could get out and make his getaway free running style.
Right now, he was headed to the police station, as was probably everyone.The truck could carry about fifteen to twenty people if they packed in, or 15 max if they brought supplies.Maneuvering around the streets was a challenge.Many roads were blocked, and Gordon did his best to mark them off on his map. "Like something out of Black Hawk Down..." He muttered as he came to yet another pileup.
As he took yet another detour Gordon saw a small mob of zombies crowding in front a what looked like a sports bar.
Survivors!
|
|
|
Post by Griggs on Aug 12, 2008 16:39:29 GMT
Abe was awoken by what sounded like the screech of a large vehicle stopping outside. Looking around, he saw that everyone was either passed out or sleeping normally, including the shotgun toting bartender. Sobered a little bit, at least enough for cognitive thinking, Abe grabbed another whiskey bottle and headed upstairs for a better look.
Swaying a tiny bit, he made his way to the edge of the roof. Parked outside was a large garbage truck, its engine still on.
"Man, if you're f***ing zombies drivin that truck, I will be pished!" he slurred, pointing his bottle at them like a sword.
|
|
|
Post by Scorpio on Aug 12, 2008 16:59:08 GMT
ooc: Okay, throwing in a second character that I've been discussing with Kan, he's up to date I believe but I won't use the character until it's officially approved....so negligible meant 'don't do sh*t' right? ic: Name: Saint John ‘sɪndʒɪn’ Malcom Age: 33 Height: 6' 4" Occupation: CURE agent Skills: Parkour, assault rifles, search and rescue, judo and boxing Equipment: M16, grapple device and cable, CURE uniform (protects against blunt force and stabbing wounds, fire and allows free movement, negligible firearm and shrapnel resistance) Uniform looks kinda like this, no horns or DD logo though, but same design and colour. The plague control agency CURE was designed to aid emergency groups by inserting agents into epidemic zones and helping evacuate doctors and any research on the disease in an affected area, especially during panic situations and riots. Saint John is currently deployed in Racoon to aid FEMA on behalf of CURE, holed up in a hospital and gathering doctors notes.
|
|
|
Post by Captain Obvious on Aug 12, 2008 22:39:49 GMT
"Oh SH**" Gordon yelled, throwing the truck in reverse and backing away as fast as the truck could go.That happened to be around three miles per hour.The inside out creatures had spotted him and didn't seem to be happy.A few had jumped from the roof of the bar across from the one Gordon had been looking at, and he had only noticed when he heard the thud of it jumping on the front of the truck.
As he backed up he saw the thing trying to move to his open window. It's claws tapped menacingly against the glass as Gordon struggled with the sawed off shotgun that he had put in the seat next to him.He finally got a grip, pulled it around, and blew that bastard's head all across the building across the street. It's limp body fell to the ground and Gordon shifted back into drive.
He crushed the thing underneath the truck, then pulled out his beretta as another started running towards him like one of those dogs. Gordon unloaded the clip in what was probably the world record, spraying the creature with bullets as it charged towards him. He fumbled with his vest to get another clip and dropped it near the pedals. As he bent to pick it up he heard a wet SHUSH as something shot above his head.He loaded the clip into the pistol and cocked the slide as he sat back up.
The thing's tongue had shot out of it's mouth when Gordon had bent down, but when another clip of nine millimeters went into it's head, he didn't think it would get another chance to try to lick him.Gordon checked the area for any more of those tongue monsters, and, seeing none, leaned back into his seat and let out a sigh.
He looked at the bar where they had come out of and saw faces pressed against the windows. "Great, more people." He thought, reloading his pistol and shotgun.The shooting had attracted some ghouls, so Gordon rolled up the window and lit a cigarette.
He blew a cloud of smoke into the air and wondered what he had done to deserve getting stuck here.The moans outside his window told him this wasn't the time to get sentimental, so instead he stepped on the gas and pulled up to the first bar, where a drunkard was stumbling around on the roof, probably drawn by all the commotion.By "pulling up" Gordon ran over many ghouls, their bones crunching underneath the heavy weight of the garbage truck.
Gordon pulled almost a U-turn, backing up the trash end of the truck to what he hoped was the doorway. He had kept everything in the back taped down with some ductape from the gun store, and had made sure not to touch the compacter function.Unless he wanted to lose all of his guns and whoever was unlucky enough to be back there. "Note to self, don't let any of those drunks drive." Gordon thought, before feeling a jolt that told him he had hit the bar.
He looked in his mirror and noticed he was about three feet away from the door. "Eh, good enough." He thought, honking the horn.
Shave and a haircut.
|
|
|
Post by Griggs on Aug 12, 2008 23:29:22 GMT
As the truck backed up to the bar, Abe ran downstairs as quickly as possible. The bartender was outside covering the survivors with his shotgun as they piled into the truck, all holding as much booze as they could carry. Abe brought his whiskey bottle along with him. He yelled to the driver a happy drunk.
"Bout damn time you showed up! Shtartin to get a lil' homey in there, y'know? Ha heh ha hah! Les' roll!"
|
|
|
Post by Captain Obvious on Aug 12, 2008 23:43:04 GMT
"There's some heat back there if ya know how to handle it. Don't waste the ammo on regular zeds." Gordon called back, trying to be heard over the rumble of the engine."Might wanna make some Molotovs with all that booze." He added, turning the truck around and backing towards the other bar. He hit a few more ghouls on the way, and heard a shotgun blast from the back.One probably got a bit too close for comfort.
Gordon kept backing up until he heard another crack, and breaking glass.He must have hit the door this time.He shifted into drive and drove forward a couple feet so they could open the door, then honked a few times for in case they didn't hear that.
|
|
|
Post by Griggs on Aug 13, 2008 0:46:00 GMT
Abe looked around and saw a large stack of weapons taped to the back of the container. He saw one he liked, a big semi-auto hunting rifle with a scope, and untaped it. There was some blood on it, but he just wiped it off. He found 30.06 ammunition in a bag on the floor. Some of the more conscious survivors were grabbing weapons, too.
Abe took a seat near the back of the truck to cover the survivors in the next bar, covering the small area between the bar and the truck that was still open. He saw something dart past outside, large and pinkish-red. As he raised his weapon, a large pink tendril shot between the crack ad lashed out in front of him. Abe fired, and missed, but the tongue retreated anyways.
"...The hell wush that?"
|
|
Kan
Elite Member
I.Y.A.A.Y.A.S.
Posts: 2,361
|
Post by Kan on Aug 13, 2008 1:23:25 GMT
OOC: remember no using second characters till I give the word in game.
IC:
I set my rifle down, leaning it against the wall behind me. I grab the map and water, opening both. I take a swig of the water while looking round the map, marking the clock tower with a marker.
I hear shuffling nearby, making me look around. I notice a good amount of infected shuffling towards me. I quickly fold the map and head down an alley way, which looked like it was a beginning of a route to the clocktower, and extraction. I grab my M4 and start jogging off.
I round the corner and literally bump into something new. A lizard like creature, hunched over like a deformed child, its knees bent, falsifying it's true height. on it's head is what seems to be its brain, as if it was growing out of it's head.
It turns and glowers at me as I mutter, "Oh sh*t" and scramble up and dash away from it. I look back and see it moving quite fast towards me, "Crap!", I exclaim as it's claws shimmer in the dim sunlight, extended and held out. It looks like it's about to jump, it's claw arm extended. I pull a 180 and raise my rifle as it leaps. Suddenly I fall back, flat on my ass, I look at my feet and see a abandoned bike on the ground. I tripped.
Thank god though, I look up and see the thing whip over my tripped form, it's claws where my neck had been. I roll onto my stomach and propel myself up. I raise my rifle and fire on full auto as the creature spasms and squeals before it falls over and becomes silenced forever.
"What the hell was that?" I mutter to myself as I change my empty magazine. I hear the crunch of a boot and turn on a dime, my rifle dropped and pistol in hand and aimed. "That was a Hunter Tom...." I hear a voice say as I reach my spin to point. Though the iron sights I see the uniform of the UBCS, the name 'Ginovaef ' stitched onto his shirt.
"Nicholai..." I simply breath out as the man raises his pistol at me..........
Suddenly a car collapses under a huge amount of weight, a low gravely voice saying, "U.B.C.S" as what remains of the car groan. Both me and Nicholai move our heads to see what it was. "What the....." is all Nicholai could get out before he fired his pistol in reflex, the bullet hitting the pavement, as a tentacle was now sticking out the back of his head. The thing withdraws, the body of the UBCS supervisor plopping down to the ground. The thing looks at me as it's tentacle whips back into it's hand, simply uttering those four letters.
"U.B.C.S."
OOC: None of you guys at the bar will hear this, but I am slightly close to a certain hardware shop....
|
|
Oct-taku
Elite Member
Designated Forum Tech-Priest
Posts: 1,695
|
Post by Oct-taku on Aug 13, 2008 1:34:21 GMT
OOC: I'll take that as my cue. This was the point where, after venturing outside the hardware store about five minutes ago, Trent would roll a soda-can greade towards the hulking figure that liked to rip off John Carpenter movies that take place in Antarctica. BOOM"I'd reccommend running." he called to the man the thing had cornered. 'I don't have many of these things left, and I'd like to save as many as possible." With that, he pulled anohter out of the duffel bag over his shoulder.
|
|
Kan
Elite Member
I.Y.A.A.Y.A.S.
Posts: 2,361
|
Post by Kan on Aug 13, 2008 1:58:56 GMT
OOC: Yep IC: The hulking figure staggers back, just a inch and breaths out deeply, as if just slightly dazed. I dash past the monster, grabbing my rifle as I pass it. "Come on!" I shout to the man who had just saved my life. I grab him and pull him my way as the monster raises it's hands and roars loudly. I brace my rifle against my hip and fire into the thing, it barely flinches as the bullets ram into it. I turn and run, praying the man was right behind me, and turn a corner as the thing appears to catch up. The thing seems to stumble as it tries to turn at it's speed. I continue running until I notice a very precarious fire escape on the side of the building. "Get behind me!" I shout as I shove the man behind me and shoulder my rifle, firing at the rusted bolts and such as the thing nears us. In a grand crash the hunks of metal and stone crash onto the thing, appearing to crush it. I pant as I look to the man, "Thanks, the name's Jenkins, you must be some hardass to last this long" I say as I reach out my hand to shake. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Behind the two men the rubble seems to settle and the form of a weapon clatters out of the showing part of the monster's coat. A 1911 style pistol with a purple grip and scope shines in the dim sunlight as Tom reachs his hand out for a hand shake, possibly catching the other man's eye. OOC: Yeh, you get stuff if you defeat nemmeh, just like ingame, just full weapons. You can't kill him just defeat him, like pumping him so full of lead he just falls over knocked out, but that would take a sh*tload of ammo. So use your heads if nemmeh ends up your way and you might just get a new weapons, as it is reported that nemmeh carries more that just that rocket launcher beneath his trenchcoat, IE knives, pistols, ARs you name it. But yeh, he won't make an appearance for a good couple of posts so go on with your business. Remember though, make it realistic.
|
|
|
Post by Captain Obvious on Aug 13, 2008 2:11:06 GMT
"We got more inside out things running around, hang on!" Gordon screamed at the back of the truck. He tore out away from the bar and checked the mirrors.There was one hanging on to the truck!
Gordon picked up his sawn off shotgun and casually aimed it out the window. His shot missed, horribly.He stopped the truck, opened the door while grabbing his CAR-15, and started walking along the side of the truck.He saw a pink foot dissapear underneath, so he dropped prone on the ground and unloaded on the thing.His spray of bullets ripped the back and groin of the creature apart as it tried to crawl away. As he stood, he heard a moaning behind him, and a cold arm gripped his shoulder, like some old buddy.
Gordon spun and held the middle of the CAR.He slammed the buttstock into the ghoul's face, breaking it's nose.He used the rifle to push the ghoul back, stunning it long enough for Gordon to dive away and pull the trigger of his rifle.Click click click."Sh**."Gordon said,dropping his rifle and scrambling away on all fours. He got to the back of the truck and pulled his Beretta out of his holster.He shot at the zed's head and missed.Gordon backed up, staying out of the reach of the creature, trying to calm himself enough to make the shot.He fired again, and this time was happy to see the soft, hollow point round make the ghouls brain into soup, exploding out of the back of it's head in a cloud of red and grey.
Gordon ran back to the driver's seat, knocking down a infected on the way.He got in and slammed the door, promising himself he would never try to act cool again.He had lost his cigarette in the fray, so reached up and took another from the pack he had taped to the sun visor above him. He took out his lighter and tried to light the cigarette, but his hands were too shaky for him to keep the lighter steady.He threw it away, angrily and reached back to run his hands through his hair.
"Hey *hic* you still alive up there?" A voice called from the back. "Yeah..."Gordon replied, shifting into reverse and again backing up to the other bar.
"Next time it's you guys's turn."
|
|
Oct-taku
Elite Member
Designated Forum Tech-Priest
Posts: 1,695
|
Post by Oct-taku on Aug 13, 2008 9:41:24 GMT
Trent shook Jenkin's offered hand. "Trenton Reed. Call me Trent. And not really. I've just been smart, that's all." It was then that he walked over, scooping the pistol off the ground. Then, he walked back over to Jenkins.
"F**kin' boss battles." he said, with just a mild hint of humor.
|
|