The Walking Dead

[IndieJocky]

These people live in a world where zombies are real. An infection in 2010 has spread around the world causing people to become almost animal-like and develop a taste for human flesh. The infection was mostly contained to the country-side where it was mostly spread through animals. Large cities were spared due to their knowledge of the infection. They were able to hold off the infected. But people couldn't help but wonder how long it would hold up to the constant onslaught.
There question was answered a few years later when their line of defense was taken down under mysterious circumstances.
“Scientist have confirmed that the roaming band of infected are heading for New York. If you live in the area they are saying not to panic and to remain indoors. Lock all doors, board up your windows, and once again DO NOT panic.”
Of course everyone panicked. And at around 1:57 pm on April 20th, 2015 the first wave arrived. On the first day over 200 were infected and from there it just got worse. The infection spread among everyone as people decided to not take the governments' advice. After a week of laying siege to the city the infected did what they always did ad moved on to the next city. But not all of them left. New York was still being overrun by infected that were left behind and many who were changed in New York. Many were infected but there were many that also hid and survived the worst of it. But now they must come out of hiding to find more survivors or face their decimation.

Character Sheet:

Username:
Name:
Gender:
Age:
Height:
Weight:
Ethnicity:
Birthplace:
Character Picture:
Character Story:
Character Personality:
Character Appearance:
Other Physical Characteristics:
Occupation:
Equipment:
Advantages:
Disadvantages:
Skills:
Strength:
Stamina:
Charisma:
Dexterity:
Intelligence:
Perception:


Refer to these links for info on the RPG:

Attribute and stat's Information for the RPG.
http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1276318&postcount=246

Our Zombie Characteristic's and Traits Sheet:
http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1275554&postcount=221

Our Equipment Guide:
http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1277570&postcount=260


Rules:
1.) No God-modding.
2.) This RPG is owned by Yoyocool and I. Whatever we say goes. We are GODS!
3.) No net-speak.
4.) No one line posts.
5.) No killing other characters unless you have come to an agreement with the person who owns that character.
6.) No extreme cussing. Only the words allowed by the site.
7.) Have fun.
8.) If you’ve read all the rules put A.S.W. as your title.

Failure to abide by these rules will cause your player to become infected and you getting kicked out of the RPG.

[IndieJocky]

Character List:

IndieJocky (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1357720&postcount=4)

rzgrz (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1357056&postcount=3)

angel_misuzu (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1357056&postcount=3)

ZombiGirl (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1358631&postcount=6)

Forgotten Memory (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1358953&postcount=7)

Samletbird (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1361841&postcount=12)

DestinyHolder (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1363359&postcount=16)

Kairi* (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1364661&postcount=19)

Apostle (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1365449&postcount=21)

KH2_FinalSora (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1367096&postcount=22)

AzureRebirth (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1370390&postcount=30)

Wzrdto25 (http://kingdomhearts3.org/showpost.php?p=1373231&postcount=57)



Applications CLOSED

[rzgrz]

Username:rzgrz
Name:John
Gender:male
Age:58
Height:6'1
Weight:210
Ethnicity:Caucasian
Birthplace: Nashville, TN ,US
Character Picture: (??)
Character Story: He had been serving the marines all his life since he was able to. Had gone through the ranks but stoped at MCPO. Had gotten pretty much all the medals available except the P.O.W. medal. Once the outbrak occured he had been stationed in Maine and then moved to New York. There he had fought the hords and evetually found himself hidden in an ovrruned police station inside what was called a safe room/bunker. Him along with a few other survivors have been searching the town for others so they can strengthen their numbers. As being the only military personel with a high rank he has been leading these people for search and rescue operations constantly.
Character Personality: grumpy but can get the job done with everyone in tact
Character Appearance:
http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h19/demonicjester/left%204%20dead/bill.jpg
Other Physical Characteristics:Hard knocked Jarhead with alot of time under him.
Occupation:USMC
Equipment: M16, (duel)UZI w/silencers
Advantages: Can outline and creat tactical military plans and foil ambushes on the dot.
Disadvantages: hates technical talks
Skills: can repair almost anything and has a smooth voice
Strength:100
Stamina:95
Charisma:80
Dexterity:87
Intelligence:130(-5 when it's technical talk)
Perception: 98

[IndieJocky]

Accepted :]

P.S.
Here's mine >.>

Username: IndieJocky
Name: Alexander "Alex" Claptin
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Height: 5 feet 11 inches
Weight: 157 lbs.
Ethnicity: English
Birthplace: London England
Character Picture: http://fc02.deviantart.com/fs42/f/2009/144/a/a/Po_schodoch_by_fogke.jpg
Character Story: Born in London to a English mother and American father, Alexander led a normal life. He went to school, received exceptional marks, and had friends. Alexander received training in firearms due to his father being part of the army. He left home at the age of 11 to the safety of New York at the request of his parents. They sent him ahead of them promising him that they would be there in a week. They never arrived. He lived in New York for the next 6 years until the infected finally breached. After hiding he decided to leave the safety of his high-rise to find more people and hopefully his family. Character Personality: Open and friendly, Alexander looks at the sunny side of everything even in the darkest of times. He enjoys talking and is considered a great speaker.
Character Appearance: ^ Reference Picture
Other Physical Characteristics: A scar that goes down his back he received in his youth. Occupation: N/A
Equipment:
Remington 870 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Remington_870) Benelli M4 Super 90 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benelli_M4_Super_90) Advantages: N/A
Disadvantages: A bit too trusting.
Skills: Has great knowledge in firearms.
Strength: 55
Stamina: 64
Charisma: 89
Dexterity: 76
Intelligence: 145
Perception: 86

[Misuzu]

Username: missyzu
Name: Brayden Thompson
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Height: 6'1
Weight: 156 lbs.
Ethnicity: German
Birthplace: Amsterdam
Character Picture: http://i39.photobucket.com/albums/e163/Thoroughbred_cutie77/HOT.jpg
Character Story: Born in Amsterdam, Brayden and his family moved to New York when he was four years old. His mother and father were both German, so he lived a strict life. He grew up to be emotionally hardened somewhat, but sometimes you were able to see his soft side. It was quite spontaneous, though. Several years later when the infection came to NYC, they were boarding up the windows when an infected man came hurling down the street and attacked his father out of the blue. His mother then shoved his inside while she couldn't get inside quick enough, resulting in death alongside his father. Brayden is still mentally scarred from watching his parents get massacred, but he lives on. He can be very hard in the outside, though.
Character Personality: Hard, serious. Very rarely soft.
Character Appearance: Dirty blonde hair, green eyes.
Other Physical Characteristics: His eyes change color from green to blue.
Occupation: N/A
Equipment: Handheld shotgun for emergencies, machine gun he carries on his back.
Advantages: He took self defense classes at a young age, and twists them into useful fighting attacks.
Disadvantages: He takes a while to warm up to someone - He often tries to let people know he isn't intrested. Has a heart condition in which he gets shocks of pain occasionally, sometimes slows him down.
Skills: Very persuasive; great knowledge of the city; speaks some German.
Strength: 93
Stamina: 67
Charisma: 50
Dexterity: Both
Intelligence: 80
Perception: 87

[ZombiGirl]

Username: ZombiGirl

Name: Coralie Chevalier

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Height: 5,0

Weight: 120 pounds

Ethnicity: European

Birthplace: New York, US

Character Picture: none, see description.

Character Story: Though her parents are French, Coralie has born and raised in the US, so you would never guess her origins, except for her tendency to swear in broken french. She resents that her parents got divorced, and secretly feels that they are never there for her, especially with her father being an artist, and her mother working for the government. Her parents are fairly wealthy, so generally, she doesn’t have to struggle much, though in many ways she is a typical high school student, who gets fair grades. So far, her life has been pretty uninteresting. She currently lives her mother, and their maid.

Character Personality: Reliable and adaptable, Coralie isn’t easily fazed and has a calm manner. Always looks on the bright side, and chooses not to dwell on unpleasant events, but moves on. Dislikes conflict, and enjoys the company of others. Sometimes outspoken, she comes across as rude sometimes, but does not realize it. She is naturally curious and loves to learn new things. Sometimes she has problems with self control, given her spoilt upbringing, and is finding it difficult to give up smoking. She enjoys team sports, like base ball, and is quite an athlete when she feels like it.

Character Appearance: Green eyes, short black hair, set firm with hairspray. Pale skin. Short, but athletic build. Strong, long limbs. Prefers to wear darker clothes, and her essential make-up item is raspberry lipgloss. Wears thick rimmed glasses.

Other Physical Characteristics: Is left-handed. Stronger than she appears. Short-Sighted.

Occupation: Student

Equipment: Main: Long Metal piping(melee) Heckler & Koch UMP9 (sub-machine gun)

Advantages: Good at working with others, Consistent, Reliable.

Disadvantages: Too Honest (liable to offend), Curious, Too trusting, Not used to self control.

Skills: Good Melee Attack strength, Basic first aid.

Strength: 83

Stamina: 78

Charisma: 70 usually (-30 if she’s passing judgment)

Dexterity: 73

Intelligence: 115

Perception: 69

[ForgottenMemory]

Whaaaaat? FM's going to play a girl? And her character's younger than herself? (Might as well do something until I can get Assassin back on the map.)

A.S.W.


Username: ForgottenMemory
Name: Fane Liddell (pronunciation: first name - rhymes with “vane” fay-n; surname – lid-elle)
Gender: Female
Age: 15
Height: 5”6
Weight: 114 lbs
Ethnicity: Caucasian (50% French, 25% Romanian, 25% German)
Birthplace: Lyon, France
Character Picture: http://i41.tinypic.com/207qhs6.jpg
Character Story: Born to a French Photojournalist and a traveling writer, the young Miss Liddell spent the first half of her life growing in the tiny village of Vannes, France. By the time her brother – Alexis (five years younger; now aged ten) – was born, unheard outbreaks of defying diseases were spreading across North America. With each year, the strange scares were becoming more and more common across the ocean; one could only wonder what would happen if they reached this coast. Soon, Fane’s father was offered a very exclusive and important position from the nearest city’s media stream – one which would require him to travel to the United States. He was to take photos in order to help provide coverage of the ongoing (and worsening) conditions. For the great amount that it was worth, the Liddells packed away their things and headed to the most populated city in America – New York. Because of her mother, who was raised her entire life in the States, Alexis and Fane could speak the English, but it made fitting in no less of a challenge. Things seemed to be moving alright though; as long as they had each other,
-
Then, there was the day. The day her father never came home, the day her mother did not return from the store, the day Alexis was lost (it was her fault, she knew it was), and the day she lost everything.
Character Personality:
Character Appearance: Petite by nature, the girl has taken to the willowy frame of her father. Her skin is a luminescent ivory, which she shares with her mother. Her large hazel eyes make her distinct from her family members, though, lightly decorated with dark lashes. Fane’s hair, which is brunette and lengthy, has a natural wave to it – curls, even, in humid weather. She is like the moon, her smile haunting.
Other Physical Characteristics: Because of the lack of cleanup and a spreading of dangerous, unhealthy materials through what remains of New York, Fane has begun to lose her eyesight. She had come in contact with some biohazards a while back, unknowingly gaiting through medical waste. It was subtle at first, but now she is sure of it; will she go blind?
Occupation: N/A
Equipment: Standard handgun, and currently a lengthy scalpel
Advantages: Her size, for one; her small frame makes it easy to hide and vanish from dangers, the ability to speak French and English, the handgun she came across.
Disadvantages: Poor and decreasing eyesight due to contact with harmful chemicals – she has the potential to go completely blind, if not helped, and her physical weakness.
Skills: Light-footed (took ballet back in France), knowledge of how to use a handgun, basic self defense training.
Strength: 50ish, I’d imagine. She’s just a girl.
Stamina: About 75 – 80, due greatly in part to insomnia and her high metabolism.
Charisma: 65 – 70
Dexterity: 85
Intelligence: 100 (If there’s one thing she does have, it’s this.)
Perception: Starts at a 50 and is constantly decreasing.

[IndieJocky]

All accepted ;D

[Misuzu]

When shall this start, o great one?

[IndieJocky]

Mananaaaa =D
(Tomorrow) >.>

[Misuzu]

I know what manana means. xD

And woot!

[Samletbird]

Username: Samletbird
Name: Clinton Booth (Clint for short)
Gender: Male
Age: 33
Height: 6’3”
Weight: 168 lbs.
Ethnicity: Italian-American
Birthplace: New York, NY, USA
Character Picture:

http://i668.photobucket.com/albums/vv48/Samletbird/Booth04.jpg

Character Story: Clint is a true-born New Yorker. He was raised by his foul-mouthed but loving Italian aunt, and grew up amidst a throng of his cousins. He was a corporal in the New York City Police Department, and was among the police units entrusted to keep people calm when information of the Solanum Virus first broke the news stands. Unfortunately, Clint and his partner were gunned down at a riot before the panic had gotten to its worst point. His partner was killed, and Clint was released from the Police Force on pension because of his injuries.

When the widespread panic began, Clint and his “gal” Mandy stuck through the worst of it alone together. Clint did his best to make sure his family was safe, but eventually lost contact with them. When the dust finally settled, revealing that the walking dead had overrun New York, Clint and Mandy set out to find their family and friends, but were separated along the way.

Character Personality: Clint is a fairly friendly individual, and he cares deeply for those close to him, especially his Mandy. Though sometimes he can’t help but be a bit snarky. His temper, however, is completely true to the Italian stereotype.
Character Appearance: Tall and muscular in a non thick-necked sort of way.
Other Physical Characteristics: Thanks to the riot incident, Clint’s right leg from the knee down is now prosthetic.
Occupation: Former NYC Police Officer
Equipment: Glock 21 (two), Remington 870 (one)
Advantages: Animal Empathy (5), Combat Reflexes (15), High Pain-threshold (10)
Disadvantages: One leg (25), Foul Mouth (5)
Skills: Animal Handling (4), Throwing (4), Fast-Draw (2), Gunner (3), Pistol (3), Shotgun (3), Knife (2), Cooking (2), Diagnosis (4), First Aide (2), Diplomacy (4), Fast-Talk (3) Intimidation (3), Leadership (3), Sex Appeal (3), Strategy (4), Tactics (4), Camouflage (2), Detect Lies (4), Interrogation (3), Streetwise (3),
Strength: 84
Stamina: 92
Charisma: 67
Dexterity: 79
Intelligence: 89
Perception: 90

[IndieJocky]

lol, Didn't Yoyo tell you?
You were already accepted XD
But anyways, yes. :]

[Samletbird]

yeah, he did, but I figured I should post it anyway just so that everyone could see it.

[IndieJocky]

Yeah, and alos so I could post it on the Character Sheet. XD

If anyone wants they could go ahead and start. :]

[DestinyHolder]

Username: DestinyHolder
Name: Roxie Irving (Er-Ving)
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Height: 5"6
Weight: Average?
Ethnicity: Welsh, American.
Birthplace: Chicago
Character Picture:http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc276/BlueSocksx/Anime/Possible%20Rp%20characters/lagattalaros.jpg
Character Story: Roxie was born in Chicago but raised is Wales but never felt like she fit with the country surroundings, she always urged for the frill and lights of her birth place, Chicago to achieve her dreams of being a show girl. Something her parent's frowned upon as a devilish activity. But the stubborn fiery red head would never cease to drive for her dream, which lead her to leave and run away at the age of 16 and then got her break.
However, it wasn't enough. Roxie now wished to become a real actress. Once again she packed up her stuff and moved to London, but it didn't go as planned. The outbreak that Roxie had just shrugged of as a myth was causing panic, her flight to get mixed up and end up leaving her in New York, alone but determined.
Character Personality: Roxie's long fiery red hair fit's her stubborn fierce personality perfectly as the girl likes to think she is nothing but independent on herself, this can give the impression to others that she is in fact stuck-up. However she is anything but this. Roxie has always been sociable, flirty creature, her daring actions leaving people on edge. But under that wild show girl act Roxie is a mothering, caring woman. Often calling people 'baby'.
Other Physical Characteristics: Her history of dancing had left Roxie athletic, and flexible.
Occupation: Showgirl.
Equipment: Standard Pistol.
Advantages: Flexibility
Disadvantages: Lack in Strength
Skills: Minor Acrobatics‘, average aim with the handgun
Strength: 43
Stamina: 92 (Thank's to a hell of a lot of dancing)
Charisma: 78
Dexterity: Both
Intelligence: 94 (not the brightest spark)
Perception: 60

[IndieJocky]

Accepted

[rzgrz]

"Area clear, going to checking downstairs."
"13 targets down. Clear."

John entered into a run-downed studio complex near Madison Square. Every day he would check building after building to find some sort of actual life. Weather it be walking dead surrounding a building or live people trying to search for suplies.

He entered into a building just west of the bunker he had set up with a few of army personel and civilians. Luckily he was able to find keys to a hybrid pick-up truck that was armored to be able to move twice as fast. Every building had shown people there but no one remained only the dead and a few drawings saying what and where places have been taken out. His squad of survivors had been in the area for over a few hours now. Not to many gunshots have been made without caution and because of the light they were skeptic that more dead people would be comming soon.

"Lets get out of here. There are no survivors here" John said as they continued out of the house with bags of food and medications. As they entered into the square a voice spoke out and told them to halt. John stated his name as they were granted access. An electric fence opened up as they entered in and then crossed a spiked wall surrounding the entrance to the fort they had set up. the park was converted into a landmine field with tripwires and land mines. Sensors bordered the park for counting reference to the men standing guard. The place was covered with dead bodies and blown up trucks. looking through at the outerside it looked like a bloodbath went on in the park but if you walk deeper in you would hit the fence, and after, the wall to the underground bunker.

In the bunker were residing fourteen survivors, including the men standing guard. No help would be able to come for them because of their location but if so they were prepaired to wait. Only one radio worked but for months no signal has ever come through. "Tommorow our goal is to hit out to the chinatown district and get into the hospital. There are barriers so we will have to go by foot. We want to sweep out as many houses as possible. Perferably the four surrounding the hospital" he said as he started to leave. Tommorrow was gonna be another long day and hopefully there would be a little more luck.

[Kairi*]

is it to late for me to join?
a.s.w
Username: kairi*
Name: Chole Felix
Gender: girl
Age: 16
Height: 5''4
Weight: about 110
Ethnicity: white
Birthplace: New York (upper east side)
Character Picture:
http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj205/hayfield_productions/hanna.jpg
Character Story: Chole was born and raised in New York. Her life is normal, school, drama and such. Her mother was a designer so she would model her mothers clotheing so she became known in New York. Her dad became a drug addict when she was 12. He would always try to get his drugs by using her as a sex toy for the durg sellers. He died one night at a bar when Chole was 15. She keeps what her dad used her for as a dark secret not telling anyone. Once she heard about the infected her mother and her left the city to go to Paris for fashion week asking Chole if she wanted to come, chole proudly said no.
Character Personality: she is a sweet heart,but she if very emotinal from her past. She is very loyal and very caring.
Character Appearance: in picture. :0
Other Physical Characteristics:
Occupation: currently a model
Equipment: pistol, Remington 870
Advantages: she is able to do things under preassure very well.
Disadvantages: She is pretty short so it is hard for her to reach high things.
Skills: know's around the city, she has a sharp eye
Strength: 84
Stamina: 92
Charisma: 77
Dexterity: 81
Intelligence: 98
Perception: 83

[ZombiGirl]

Coralie reclined on the expensive leather sofa tiredly. It was boring. Everything was boring. Boring to the point of exhaustion. Her hand lingered over the TV remote for a moment, but sighing, she left it. All that would be on the stupid TV would be about the damn Zombies. “Surely everyone has the message by now,” she complained to herself, filling the sad silence of the empty house. “Zombie Invasion, don’t go outside, blah blah...” her confident voice trailed away, as she sheepishly realized how crazy she was beginning to become.

Yawning, she looked at her watch...according to the time, it had been...48 hours since Rosa had ventured outside. No wonder it had seemed quiet, without the miserable old ‘cochon’, as her mother would say when she thought Rosa was out of ear-shot. Coralie didn’t have to know Spanish or French to guess that what Rosa said in return was a lot worse.

Suddenly energized, Coralie jumped to her feet. She thought to herself ‘I’m young, alone, and in the middle of some kind of Zombie apocalypse. I’ve been in this damn house for a month, and it’s driving me nuts. My mother is in Spain, the maid is probably wandering around with the other rotting cadavers. I either starve in here, out of my mind and horribly depressed, or take my chances outside. I’ve never seen a real life Zombie, anyway.’

Satisfied with her line of thought, she headed directly for the best weapon in the house; the sub machine gun that her mother hid behind all the out of season Versace junk in her seemingly endless closet, in a futile attempt to not screw up her petite fille in the head. Truthfully, she had known about it since she was eight. Coralie waded through the dusty gowns, throwing piles of elaborate stilettos onto the goat hair rug behind her, until she came to the uninteresting leather suitcase.

Her normally steady hands shaking slightly, she released the brass locks, and slipped the lid open to reveal the weapon within. She held in the gun in her hands, and was surprised to notice that is was loaded. ‘Restraining order didn’t cut it, eh.’ she wondered cynically. The unfamiliar coolness of it felt good in her long, strong hands. She held it for a few moments, getting to grips with the weirdness of it. Gently, she lay in on the silken sheets, and rummaged through the musky case, looking for more ammunition.

There was none, but what was there was more surprising. A pristine framed photo of her mother and father, when they were young, laughing together in some oh-so cosmopolitan part of France. ‘Must have been before that unruly midget child turned up’ she joked to herself quietly. She was surprised at how young and carefree her mother looked; Coralie inherited her dark, Parisian looks from her. Gently touching the picture, she told it “Well mom, here we are. You in some arty-farty gallery in Barcelona throwing sombreros at Zombies, and me gunning them down. Good luck to both of us.”

Clutching it and the gun tightly, she left the room, forgetting that Rosa would not be there to clean up the mess she had left. Coralie grabbed her roomiest messenger bag, dumped in on the leather couch, and pondered what else she would need. She decided on water, some bananas, cellphone (though she doubted it would get a signal, it was better to try anyway), chocolate, some extra clothes, first-aid kit, spare glasses, lip gloss...and what else? She smiled wickedly when it came into her mind; her baseball bat, old faithful. She eagerly began to rush towards her room, until she remembered; it was in her gym locker, along with a collection of mouldy lip-gloss and magazines.

“Mother hugger!” She groaned, forgetting that no one was going to shake the swear jar in her face. She moved to the nearest sitable surface (the lidded toilet) and fell in a slump. ‘Now what? I can’t go out there like friggin’ Rambo, I’ll run out of ammo faster than Hugh Hefner not taking his medicines’. She stared down the white wall moodily, glaring at the pipes until they gave her an answer...a pipe? That would work. A piece of pipe would be lighter that a baseball bat, with better reach.

Not wasting a breath, she dashed to the living room, snatched up the densest piece of art crap available, and with size defying ease, smashed the joint of the pipes with a mighty blow. Dropping the surprising intact crap thing on the tiled from, she them proceeded to tear it off the wall effortlessly, those millions of home runs and toning exercises paying off.
Proudly, she weighted her new toy in her hands, posing in the bathroom mirror like a war hero. She had to stand on her toes to even see her face in the mirror, but that didn’t deter her at all ‘Cora C, the new Buffy, but with Zombies’ . Vainly, she smoothed down her shiny, poker straight bob, and pouted her freshly-glossed lips. ‘Yep, a midget non-blonde Buffy’


She packed her bag methodically, with a strange kind of excitement now. This could potentially be the best ever thing that had happened to her in her boring life. She changed into what she considered to be a Zombie-proof outfit; careworn black genes, her favourite Space invader’s tee, and her comfiest, oldest, flat boots. Picking up her bulging back, she surveyed herself, bending this way and that to make sure there were no grabbable pieces, or parts that made her look fat. Finally, she stuffed in the gun, after figuring out how to put it on safety, and the picture she had found, and picked up the pipe Twirling her house key around her willowy fingers, as she did when she left the house every, day before school she opened the door. Looking around at her home, she announced “Well, bye house. It’s been swell. I’ll lock the door so no looters steal our stuff. Don’t get rats.” Before walking away for the final time.

The corridor to the outside had never seemed so long. She padded along the plush carpet, past the doors of their neighbours. Some had left notices about their escape routes; others were blank, as normal. Reaching the final door, she took a sharp intake of breath. Time to face whatevers out there.

[Apostle]

Username: Apostle
Name: "Father" Dane Archer
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Height: 6’ 1”
Weight: 173 lbs
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: New Haven, CT, USA
Character Picture:
http://i621.photobucket.com/albums/tt291/CoffeeInThatNebula/EFFINBAresize.jpg
Character Story: Dane was 17 when he joined the U.S. Army. While he was in combat, he suffered a bullet wound to the chest cavity. However, his pocket Bible had slowed the impact of the bullet and saved his life. Afterward, he joined the Chaplain Corps, but was only allowed to be a chaplain’s assistant due to being an enlisted soldier. After eight years in the Army, he received an honorable discharge and went on to Catholic Seminary in New York to become a full fledged priest. He was in seminary during the start of the Solanum outbreak. When he got out of seminary, the senior priests of his church had only one solution to the virus: pray. Dane didn’t agree and believed he should take a more active role in fighting off the infected.
Character Personality: Though he is generally sarcastic, he is serious when the situation calls for it. He is still not quite used to being addressed as “Father” Archer and can have a bit of an unpriest-like temper. He names all of his weapons after the apostles from the Bible. He has an emotional attachment to every one of them. He tends to give people nicknames as he can never remember anyone’s actual names.
Character Appearance: Physically fit, wears the traditional long priest coat and collar
Other Physical Characteristics: A bullet scar over his left pectoral
Occupation: Catholic Priest
Equipment: Colt M1911 .45 ACP Pistol (Peter), Beretta 92fs 9mm (Simon), Remington 870 (James), Machete (Paul)
Advantages: Military training
Disadvantages: Has a weakness for attractive young ladies and has to distract himself with his fondness for his weapons in order to remain celibate.
Skills: Stealth, Marksmanship, Bible reading
Strength: 80
Stamina: 88
Charisma: 96
Dexterity: 89
Intelligence: 92
Perception: 74

[KH2_FinalSora]

A.S.W.

Username: KH2_FS
Name: Trey Alexander Rush
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Height: 5'10
Weight: Average
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: Somewhere in Arizona State
Character Picture: http://www.quizilla.com/user_images/K/KI/KIB/kibasgirlfriend12/1197860787_Anime_Boy1.jpg
((Blonde hair...closest I could find))
Character Story: Trey was the second son in a poor family, and always got hand-me-downs from his older brother. Throughout life, he was always a loser, while his brother went on to become a famous car-parts manufacturer with his own corporate office. Trey realized his older brother was far better than him, and fell into a spiraling depression. With this, he began to wander throughout the country without any idea of where he was headed. More than 90% of his life included him being wasted while working for manual labor companies all across the states. This is how he ended up in NY.
Character Personality: Seth is sarcastic, uncaring, yet somehow retains the ability to do kind things.
Character Appearance: Seth stands around 5'10, wears old, faded jeans and a black shirt with a tan, almost trench-like coat, though without the weight. He has a red-headband that he wears to keep the sweat from his eyes while he works in the hot sun.
Other Physical Characteristics: Working a lot, he is quite strong, despite his small appearance. His strength can be quite deceiving.
Occupation: Traveling drunk/worker
Equipment: Strangely enough, the only two items he carries are twin .44 revolvers (Ruger Redhawk), and an old switchblade he found (for the knife). (Any melee weapon he gets will probably be something off hand, like a pipe or something...)
Advantages: A powerful, deceptive build means he can endure a lot of pain and work, and can easily clear obstacles from out of his way.
Disadvantages: He's cold towards most people because of his past, and he's a drunk.
Skills: Even when he's drunk, he can disassemble the two revolvers he owns, clean them in and out, and put them back together. He's had plenty of practice firing them when he was younger, and still remembers how to fire.
Strength: 86
Stamina: 82
Charisma: 29
Dexterity: 78
Intelligence: 57
Perception:56

[Yoyocool]

is it to late for me to join?
a.s.w
Username: kairi*
Name: Chole Felix
Gender: girl
Age: 16
Height: 5''4
Weight: about 110
Ethnicity: white
Birthplace: New York (upper east side)
Character Picture:
http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj205/hayfield_productions/hanna.jpg
Character Story: Chole was born and raised in New York. Her life is normal, school, drama and such. Her mother was a designer so she would model her mothers clotheing so she became known in New York. Her dad became a drug addict when she was 12. He would always try to get his drugs by using her as a sex toy for the durg sellers. He died one night at a bar when Chole was 15. She keeps what her dad used her for as a dark secret not telling anyone. Once she heard about the infected her mother and her left the city to go to Paris for fashion week asking Chole if she wanted to come, chole proudly said no.
Character Personality: she is a sweet heart,but she if very emotinal from her past. She is very loyal and very caring.
Character Appearance: in picture. :0
Other Physical Characteristics:
Occupation: currently a model
Equipment: pistol, Remington 870
Advantages: she is able to do things under preassure very well.
Disadvantages: She is pretty short so it is hard for her to reach high things.
Skills: know's around the city, she has a sharp eye
Strength: 84
Stamina: 92
Charisma: 77
Dexterity: 81
Intelligence: 98
Perception: 83

Very simplistic backstory i have to admit and who wouldn't want to leave a city about to be over run by the infected? I find it strange your character would say no lol.

I'll accept it though because everything else is sound and there's more reason to behind your character answer that you could explore that would remedy that i suppose.

Username: Apostle
Name: "Father" Dane Archer
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Height: 6’ 1”
Weight: 173 lbs
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: New Haven, CT, USA
Character Picture:
http://i621.photobucket.com/albums/tt291/CoffeeInThatNebula/EFFINBAresize.jpg
Character Story: Dane was 17 when he joined the U.S. Army. While he was in combat, he suffered a bullet wound to the chest cavity. However, his pocket Bible had slowed the impact of the bullet and saved his life. Afterward, he joined the Chaplain Corps, but was only allowed to be a chaplain’s assistant due to being an enlisted soldier. After eight years in the Army, he received an honorable discharge and went on to Catholic Seminary in New York to become a full fledged priest. He was in seminary during the start of the Solanum outbreak. When he got out of seminary, the senior priests of his church had only one solution to the virus: pray. Dane didn’t agree and believed he should take a more active role in fighting off the infected.
Character Personality: Though he is generally sarcastic, he is serious when the situation calls for it. He is still not quite used to being addressed as “Father” Archer and can have a bit of an unpriest-like temper. He names all of his weapons after the apostles from the Bible. He has an emotional attachment to every one of them. He tends to give people nicknames as he can never remember anyone’s actual names.
Character Appearance: Physically fit, wears the traditional long priest coat and collar
Other Physical Characteristics: A bullet scar over his left pectoral
Occupation: Catholic Priest
Equipment: Colt M1911 .45 ACP Pistol (Peter), Beretta 92fs 9mm (Simon), Remington 870 (James), Machete (Paul)
Advantages: Military training
Disadvantages: Has a weakness for attractive young ladies and has to distract himself with his fondness for his weapons in order to remain celibate.
Skills: Stealth, Marksmanship, Bible reading
Strength: 80
Stamina: 88
Charisma: 96
Dexterity: 89
Intelligence: 92
Perception: 74

Perfect and is accepted

A.S.W.

Username: KH2_FS
Name: Trey Alexander Rush
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Height: 5'10
Weight: Average
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: Somewhere in Arizona State
Character Picture: http://www.quizilla.com/user_images/K/KI/KIB/kibasgirlfriend12/1197860787_Anime_Boy1.jpg
((Blonde hair...closest I could find))
Character Story: Trey was the second son in a poor family, and always got hand-me-downs from his older brother. Throughout life, he was always a loser, while his brother went on to become a famous car-parts manufacturer with his own corporate office. Trey realized his older brother was far better than him, and fell into a spiraling depression. With this, he began to wander throughout the country without any idea of where he was headed. More than 90% of his life included him being wasted while working for manual labor companies all across the states. This is how he ended up in NY.
Character Personality: Seth is sarcastic, uncaring, yet somehow retains the ability to do kind things.
Character Appearance: Seth stands around 5'10, wears old, faded jeans and a black shirt with a tan, almost trench-like coat, though without the weight. He has a red-headband that he wears to keep the sweat from his eyes while he works in the hot sun.
Other Physical Characteristics: Working a lot, he is quite strong, despite his small appearance. His strength can be quite deceiving.
Occupation: Traveling drunk/worker
Equipment: Strangely enough, the only two items he carries are twin .44 revolvers (Ruger Redhawk), and an old switchblade he found (for the knife). (Any melee weapon he gets will probably be something off hand, like a pipe or something...)
Advantages: A powerful, deceptive build means he can endure a lot of pain and work, and can easily clear obstacles from out of his way.
Disadvantages: He's cold towards most people because of his past, and he's a drunk.
Skills: Even when he's drunk, he can disassemble the two revolvers he owns, clean them in and out, and put them back together. He's had plenty of practice firing them when he was younger, and still remembers how to fire.
Strength: 86
Stamina: 82
Charisma: 29
Dexterity: 78
Intelligence: 57
Perception:56


I like this guy and is accepted.

Other than that, I have to say that everyone is too well equipped if you ask me lol. I originally envisioned it's like the day the city defenses get overrun and we're trying to get out. Fighting the whole way through in a exciting first section of the Role Play.

Then it would be about us finding a new home in a world filled with the undead. And it ends when we finally do.

With that said, everyone being well equipped at the get go and the different scenario Indie planned out kinda puts a damper on that plan.

Maybe i should make a west coast Walking Dead ^^ oh well.

Carry on and ignore this lol.

[KH2_FinalSora]

((Well...I could modify the profile so that he doesn't have his guns until he finds them after the rp starts. It's up to you. Oh, and has it officially started yet, or did people jump the gun?))

[Yoyocool]

Nah it started but i was just voicing what i originally envisioned the game to be. As my remark about the weaponry; it's that we're mostly composed of a civilians. I was envisioning we would start off with pistols and hunting rifles because thats what would be most commonly available.

[IndieJocky]

Ohh I did not see that new character lol. umm yeah accpeted... Let me add you to the list....

Ohh and you guys can like start you know lol

[rzgrz]

OCC: if you look at my thing i am the only one with ocupation to wepons and such. and military instalation. oh and i already put up my opening.

[Samletbird]

OCC: if you look at my thing i am the only one with ocupation to wepons and such. and military instalation. oh and i already put up my opening.

that's actually incorrect, b/c if you look at MY profile, my character was a policeman until very recently. :) I'm just sayin', so there isn't any confusion.

[rzgrz]

that's actually incorrect, b/c if you look at MY profile, my character was a policeman until very recently. :) I'm just sayin', so there isn't any confusion.

OCC: provind the station survived the first sightings. ergo that everytime someones assulted where do they go? police station. infected people equals breach. you most lkely would be with military personel anyways so yea your qualified to be carrying larger wepons. ok so if no ones going to post ima make my second.

BIC:

"Charlie, hows the floor look so far?"
"It's good sir, no movement at entrance. Looks too quiet if you ask me though."
Today was another early morning for John. Two of his men were lost on the way over due to the bastards that like to jump on their prey like sneaky ninja's. Then one of them set off a car alarm. It was not fun. His recent survivor had a rank of a freshly trained soldier not even out of his class yet and was the only one left with him to watch the front from a vantage watertower across the street. He cleared floor by floor of the hospital and continued to go as far up as possible.

"I'm not liking this" he said.
"Why not, sir?" charlie asked.
"Coffee pot is hot and no one is around" he answered as he began to walk away. I hope they didn't get here. he thought to himself as he moved on.

[AzureRebirth]

I would like to join of possible ^.^

Username:AzureRebirth
Name:Christopher "Chris"
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Height: 6'5''
Weight: Around 110
Ethnicity: White
Birthplace: New York
Character Picture:
http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd66/GateKeeper_Taurus/Anime/anime_fire_vile.png
Character Story: A student who lives alone in New York, he dropped out in multiple schools before due to that he doesn't like to study and prefer to live a happy and carefree life. Locking himself in his little room, doing every single thing he can in his little world. He even find time to read some horror novels and stories in the world wide net if he gets bored. Now that the world is infected of zombies, he prepared for the worst, slowly going out of his room, he pass through the infested streets and manage to find his way into a gunshop where he equipped himself with some weapons in order to defend himself from the spreading pandemic. Wandering the streets and shooting some zombies, he need to find a safe place in order to survive.
Character Personality: Chris is rather stubborn yet willing person, he'll do anything to help somebody he cares for. He can be lazy at sometimes or rather cocky but he can be serious as dire crisis and can also be crazy at sometimes, overall he is a good person with good intentions yet he can be sidetrack at some time.
Character Appearance: Refer Above
Other Physical Characteristics:
Occupation: Student
Equipment: Dual Colt .22 and PSG-1
Advantages: He is quite talented with his hands being able to do things more efficient. Also he can very much help himself alone or help to others. Rather a speedy fellow, he can fire his guns with precise accuracy and speed. He is also a talented driver and other transportation devices. He can think up quick strategies or other things needed in just a short time.
Disadvantages: He is rather fragile and can be exhausted extreamly fast.
Skills: Excellent Marksmanship, Skilled Driver(All Transportations), Quick Thinker, Back Knowledge(Knowledge about minor things).
Strength: 76
Stamina: 59
Charisma: 42
Dexterity: 100
Intelligence: 90
Perception: 100

[IndieJocky]

Accepted.

[Misuzu]

OOC: Where should I pop in? Sorry, I forgot about this.

[rzgrz]

OCC: somebody pop in.. I don't want to be the only one out there with other military and police that i have to make up to keep me company.

[KH2_FinalSora]

A slight movement in the hallway to the left, the sound of a hammer being cocked back. Edging towards the wall, Trey took a quick swig of the burning liquid in his flask. He had long since forgotten what it was, and had no care otherwise. Instead, he was attempting to escape the building he now found himself in. If only I could remember how I got here, then maybe I'd be able to find my way out...

He let out a slight sigh, still pinning himself to the side of the hallway. He was tempted to call out, but he had a feeling that calling out would attract the infected. On the flip side, if he didn't call out...

50/50 chance... "Yo, is there anyone out there?" It wasn't exactly yelling out. His voice was more of a close coversational volume, one that you would use indoors when trying to be respectful. " 'ello?"

[AzureRebirth]

In the dark steps of the building, he silently walked down the stairs as lights were busted and the only thing he can use to see were his own flashlights that were attached to his weapons. Even without the flashlights he could see quite well in the dark, glancing around him he noticed something moving in the shadows, with that he turned off his lights and silently crept pass it, good for him it didn't noticed him. A few seconds walking the halls, he could hear someone calling for something. Turning on his lights, he saw a shadow just inside the door.

"Is someone in there?" He said in a silently but still it is enough to be heard in the other room.

[Misuzu]

OOC: Someone, anyone, meet up with me. I hate RPing alone.

The green-eyed, 6 foot one muscular German grazed his firm hand against the side of the decaying building and let out the breath he'd been saving for maybe a little over a minute. He knew they were nearby, and didn't want to take any stupid chances of attracting too many of them. It was already 9:54 PM, and he was getting tired already. He was up until 5 AM the previous day fighting off the infected, and needed rest as soon as he could get it. Rubbing his bloodshot eyes wearily, Brayden creeped slowly down the hallway, staying close to the cold wall behind him. He heard their quick footsteps nearing, and gripped his lucky revolver, loading it and making sure he had extra in his pockets. He closed his eyes, listening more closely. About three were left after the bloodshed he'd already caused. He then shot open his eyes, and ran towards them, firing perfectly at their necks where their spinal cords still rested and shot with a loud yell, two heads rolling to the ground as the rest of their bodies spurt blood all over the white hospital floor. One left.

He ran behind the probably delirious man-zombie that had two arms blown off and punched it to the ground, avoid blood spots or its saliva strings hanging from its gaping, screeching mouth. It tripped to the ground, and he kicked it, shooting it twice in the neck as its head soon rolled off. Kicking the other body to the side, he breathed heavily and hunched over, feeling a few throbs in his heart. Not strong, but he knew it would elevate later. He gripped his chest and looked up at the ceiling away from the mutilated bodies with pools of blood encasing them, as he walked on and ruffled his dirty blonde hair, hopefully finding an escape route.

[Samletbird]

((OOC: I'll meet up with you, angel_misuzu, if you don't mind having your character find mine.))

Lucidity was a very difficult thing to catch when one had been clonked over the head with something hard. Clint thought it had been a steel pipe, but it could just as well have been a brick, or a wooden 2x4, or the butt of someone's gun, or a piece of cinder block, or....well his head hurt too much to try and remember just what had initiated his current predicament.

And what was that predicament again? His memory of the past day was fuzzy, at best, but he seemed to recall something about a group of idiots...

Ah, nope, the memory was gone again, retreating back behind the shadowy curtain of his concussed brain. The only thing that mattered now was how much his head hurt, and how friggin' hard he was gonna kick the backside that belonged to the person that had done this to him.

Providing, of course, that he could bring himself to stand up without tossing his cookies all over his boots.

Well, that and also providing whether or not he could manage to un-handcuff himself from whatever his arms were wrapped around. He could feel it pressing cold against his spine, but wasn't sure what it was--or where he was, now that he thought about it.

Clint squinted at his surroundings, but the blur from his vision hadn't yet faded, and so he was surrounded by grayish shadows, and what was probably a window a few yards away.

And, he smelled something, too. The scent made him groan, because he was familiar enough with the scent of death by this point to guess what he was sitting in the middle of.

"Well, this is just peachy," he grumbled.

[Misuzu]

OOC: ...What should I say to post with? Are you in some room?

[Samletbird]

OOC: yes. your character would probably hear him cursing. lol

[Misuzu]

((OOC: I'll meet up with you, angel_misuzu, if you don't mind having your character find mine.))

Lucidity was a very difficult thing to catch when one had been clonked over the head with something hard. Clint thought it had been a steel pipe, but it could just as well have been a brick, or a wooden 2x4, or the butt of someone's gun, or a piece of cinder block, or....well his head hurt too much to try and remember just what had initiated his current predicament.

And what was that predicament again? His memory of the past day was fuzzy, at best, but he seemed to recall something about a group of idiots...

Ah, nope, the memory was gone again, retreating back behind the shadowy curtain of his concussed brain. The only thing that mattered now was how much his head hurt, and how friggin' hard he was gonna kick the backside that belonged to the person that had done this to him.

Providing, of course, that he could bring himself to stand up without tossing his cookies all over his boots.

Well, that and also providing whether or not he could manage to un-handcuff himself from whatever his arms were wrapped around. He could feel it pressing cold against his spine, but wasn't sure what it was--or where he was, now that he thought about it.

Clint squinted at his surroundings, but the blur from his vision hadn't yet faded, and so he was surrounded by grayish shadows, and what was probably a window a few yards away.

And, he smelled something, too. The scent made him groan, because he was familiar enough with the scent of death by this point to guess what he was sitting in the middle of.

"Well, this is just peachy," he grumbled.

Brayden clutched his chest as he felt the teensy twinge of pain elevate slowly and shook his head, clearing away all of the thoughts pertaining to it. As he walked down the lonely gray staircase, taking one step at a time and pacing himself, he finally reached the bottom. It was almost as if it were a horribly strenuous workout to him in this current state. As he walked down the black hallways loaded with dead bodies, he sighed, and then caught his breath, hearing small chatter nearby. He ran over to a wall, and hid himself within the shadows, controlling every breath that exited and entered his body carefully. They could hear anything.

He then realized it was a normal uninfected human's voice by the subtle-rough tone of it. He came out of his hiding spot carefully and kept his finger to the trigger though, just in case. The last thing he needed was to have his time come now. He swiftly ran over to the man, and held out his gun in front of his body with one arm extended out, and the other holding on to his chest firmly. He then saw the man's eyes were normal, and he had no symptoms. He seemed harmless. Brayden lowered his gun and took two steps forward, pulling his brown leather jacket closer to his body to keep the cold out. He frowned at the sight of him connected to the pole, and cocked his head to the side. "How'd you get here." He said in a falt tone.

[Kairi*]

Chole leaned against a brick wall her phone next to her ear. hi you've reached Annabell please lea- was all of the voice mail she listend to untill she hung up. She sighed as she put her phone into her pocket. Chole has changed sence her mother left for Paris. She flet like she could do anything she wanted with out her mother telling her what to and to not do. She griped her pistol and looked over to her left, no one there. "okay chole...one...two..three" she whispered to herself counting down untill she should run.

She knew that Mariah would be mad if she was out at this time when she could easly get herself killed, but she felt safe with a gun in her hand. She ran through the double doors of her building and slamed them closed and locked all the locks that Mariah had put on the door yesterday 'just in case' any of the infected could get in. "where have you been?" she heard Mariah ask. chole jumped and turned around to her maid "oh you know...out" she said trying to not say as much as she should "if your mother saw your wearing what you are now you know she woudnt be happy" mariah told chole.

Chole looked down at her dark pants, sneakers, and a black tank top with her hair in a pony tail. "well my mother isnt here right now, and it's not like anyone is really out in the city" she told Mariah as she walked over to a small table and gently set the gun down. "Ms. Chole you know im going to have to tell your mother about this" Mariah told her as she looked at the hand gun. "you can try but she wont answer" chole told her then she walked out of the room.

[Samletbird]

Brayden clutched his chest as he felt the teensy twinge of pain elevate slowly and shook his head, clearing away all of the thoughts pertaining to it. As he walked down the lonely gray staircase, taking one step at a time and pacing himself, he finally reached the bottom. It was almost as if it were a horribly strenuous workout to him in this current state. As he walked down the black hallways loaded with dead bodies, he sighed, and then caught his breath, hearing small chatter nearby. He ran over to a wall, and hid himself within the shadows, controlling every breath that exited and entered his body carefully. They could hear anything.

He then realized it was a normal uninfected human's voice by the subtle-rough tone of it. He came out of his hiding spot carefully and kept his finger to the trigger though, just in case. The last thing he needed was to have his time come now. He swiftly ran over to the man, and held out his gun in front of his body with one arm extended out, and the other holding on to his chest firmly. He then saw the man's eyes were normal, and he had no symptoms. He seemed harmless. Brayden lowered his gun and took two steps forward, pulling his brown leather jacket closer to his body to keep the cold out. He frowned at the sight of him connected to the pole, and cocked his head to the side. "How'd you get here." He said in a falt tone.

Clint squinted up at the young man in front of him. His vision was starting to improve it seemed--either that or the guy was a figment of his imagination.

"Long story," Clint sighed in answer to his question, his voice low so as not to attract the wrong kind of attention, "I only remember bits and pieces at the moment. But, if you get these handcuffs off me I'll let you know as soon as I do."

He grinned weakly at the younger man, "I've got the key in my right pocket if you'd be so kind as to pull it out."

[Misuzu]

Clint squinted up at the young man in front of him. His vision was starting to improve it seemed--either that or the guy was a figment of his imagination.

"Long story," Clint sighed in answer to his question, his voice low so as not to attract the wrong kind of attention, "I only remember bits and pieces at the moment. But, if you get these handcuffs off me I'll let you know as soon as I do."

He grinned weakly at the younger man, "I've got the key in my right pocket if you'd be so kind as to pull it out."

Brayden made no emotion curl upon his solemn face and bent down, swiping the key out of the man's pocket and twirling it around in his rough hand. He then unlocked the handcuffs and finally caught a whiff of the foul odor of dead body stench surrounding them. He remembered where the exit to this building was, and he stood up carefully, gazing towards the east. "The exit is that way," he started, walking away from the man, "follow if you want." Without waiting for any sudden reply, he kept walking, and jerked a little, feeling another shot of pain swelling in his heart. The muscles around it contracted, and he felt every beat getting harder in his palm. He clenched his teeth, and fought through the immense pain, not wanting to show any sign of fear of hurt.

[Samletbird]

Brayden made no emotion curl upon his solemn face and bent down, swiping the key out of the man's pocket and twirling it around in his rough hand. He then unlocked the handcuffs and finally caught a whiff of the foul odor of dead body stench surrounding them. He remembered where the exit to this building was, and he stood up carefully, gazing towards the east. "The exit is that way," he started, walking away from the man, "follow if you want." Without waiting for any sudden reply, he kept walking, and jerked a little, feeling another shot of pain swelling in his heart. The muscles around it contracted, and he felt every beat getting harder in his palm. He clenched his teeth, and fought through the immense pain, not wanting to show any sign of fear of hurt.

Clint struggled up to his feet, picking up the handcuffs as he went. A brief wave of dizziness and nausea struck him, and he fell against the metal poll that had previously held him captive, doubling over and dry-heaving for several seconds.

"Jesus..." he coughed once his stomach had unclenched. He looked up and saw that the young man who had set him loose was already moving on.

Clint staggered a few steps before he got a better balance, limping after him and asking quietly, "Hey, how many hours is it that you shouldn't fall asleep if you've got a concussion? Four?"

[Kairi*]

Chole made her way up stairs into her bed room. She laid on the bed and sighed as her head touched the pillow. she glanced over at the picture of her and her mom on her little night stand, she rolled over onto her side and reached for the picture. She picked it up and brought it closer to her face. It was a picture of her and her mom at her first photo shoot. She smiled when she remember when she first modeled for her moms designs.

She placed the picture back onto the stand under the lamp. She closed her eyes and pictured her mom and her, then she saw her dad. She quickly opened her eyes scared. She sat up and looked around her room. It was just like it was when he died, she wanted to change it so bad because she belived it held so many bad memorys but her mother didnt let her. She stood up off her bed and walked out of her room. She wanted to apologize to Mariah for not listening to her, but then at the same time she wanted to grab her guns and run out the door for good.

[Misuzu]

Clint struggled up to his feet, picking up the handcuffs as he went. A brief wave of dizziness and nausea struck him, and he fell against the metal poll that had previously held him captive, doubling over and dry-heaving for several seconds.

"Jesus..." he coughed once his stomach had unclenched. He looked up and saw that the young man who had set him loose was already moving on.

Clint staggered a few steps before he got a better balance, limping after him and asking quietly, "Hey, how many hours is it that you shouldn't fall asleep if you've got a concussion? Four?"

Brayden moved his head around just a little, enough so the stranger could see one of his everchanging eyes. They were starting to morph from a clear green to a light ocean blue. "Maybe." he responded, turning his head back around so he could see where he was walking. He noticed the foreigner was following, so he kept walking without hesitation. After maybe four minutes of walking, they reached the far end of the hospital, dodging the seemingly endless amount of bodies sprawled all over the floor, shrouding it in a bloodied mess. He reached for the door and instantly retracted it, another stronger wave of pain filling the chambers of his weakened heart. She grunted lowly and squinted an eye, clutching his chest and kicking open the door wide so that it stayed open.

He threw the stranger a look as if he were telling him with his eyes that this was their escape out of this hellish nightmare - for now. He now just had to discover somewhere to rest his head for the night.

[Samletbird]

Brayden moved his head around just a little, enough so the stranger could see one of his everchanging eyes. They were starting to morph from a clear green to a light ocean blue. "Maybe." he responded, turning his head back around so he could see where he was walking. He noticed the foreigner was following, so he kept walking without hesitation. After maybe four minutes of walking, they reached the far end of the hospital, dodging the seemingly endless amount of bodies sprawled all over the floor, shrouding it in a bloodied mess. He reached for the door and instantly retracted it, another stronger wave of pain filling the chambers of his weakened heart. She grunted lowly and squinted an eye, clutching his chest and kicking open the door wide so that it stayed open.

He threw the stranger a look as if he were telling him with his eyes that this was their escape out of this hellish nightmare - for now. He now just had to discover somewhere to rest his head for the night.

Clint nodded in understanding, and quietly drew one of his pistols as a cautionary action against whatever might be waiting for the two of them outside.

He limped as stealthily as he was able, pressing his back against the wall and peering carefully out the door, knowing it was best to look before the proverbial leap.

Scanning the terrain with his still slightly blurry vision, Clint turned back to his new companion after giving it a twice-over, "It's clear, as far as I can see."

[Kairi*]

Chole stood at the top of the stairs looking towards the door and the way Mariah walked after she went to her room. She silently began to walk down the stairs and towards the door. She snatched her gun, and grabed the box of amo that was on the table from before. She put the amo in her pocket and looked back at her house "its hard to leave this place, but i dont want to be stuck in here all night. I'll just be gone till morning" she tought as she slowly and carefully unlocked the locks on the door looking back for mariah every once in awhile.

[Misuzu]

Clint nodded in understanding, and quietly drew one of his pistols as a cautionary action against whatever might be waiting for the two of them outside.

He limped as stealthily as he was able, pressing his back against the wall and peering carefully out the door, knowing it was best to look before the proverbial leap.

Scanning the terrain with his still slightly blurry vision, Clint turned back to his new companion after giving it a twice-over, "It's clear, as far as I can see."

"I know." Brayden said in a hard tone, which was all he ever knew. He was in a slight bad mood since the pains started so early in the night, and he scanned the areas they walked in furiously, seeking shelter. He speed-walked down the empty roads with random bodies here and there, each and every one of them beheaded, naturally. It was nothing new to him, and he already grew accustomed to the gruesome sight. A sad notion, but it wasn't his fault. It was like a daily activity to seek and kill these zombies.

He turned around and took a good look at the city, hearing a screech or two every now and then. He kept his palm glued to his chest and noticed an abandoned home with metal shutters and boards nailed into the windows. It looked like the place he was a night or two ago. He knew no one was in it, so he instantaneously walked towards it. "Where are you from." He asked, even though it sounded more like a flat statement.

[Samletbird]

"I know." Brayden said in a hard tone, which was all he ever knew. He was in a slight bad mood since the pains started so early in the night, and he scanned the areas they walked in furiously, seeking shelter. He speed-walked down the empty roads with random bodies here and there, each and every one of them beheaded, naturally. It was nothing new to him, and he already grew accustomed to the gruesome sight. A sad notion, but it wasn't his fault. It was like a daily activity to seek and kill these zombies.

He turned around and took a good look at the city, hearing a screech or two every now and then. He kept his palm glued to his chest and noticed an abandoned home with metal shutters and boards nailed into the windows. It looked like the place he was a night or two ago. He knew no one was in it, so he instantaneously walked towards it. "Where are you from." He asked, even though it sounded more like a flat statement.

Clint holstered his Glock as they walked. He kept his gaze straight forward, not looking at the massacre that lay all around them. It was too much, sometimes, and his time on the police force had certainly never hardened him against this level of violence and death.

He couldn't help but be bothered by the gore piled everywhere, no matter how long he had been dealing with it, and the smell was making him more nauseous than normal--probably thanks to his concussion. Clint reminded himself that he still had to find the sucker that had cuffed him up.

It took him a minute or two to realize that the young man with him had said something, and he blinked, "Huh? Oh...I'm from here. New Yorker, born and raised. What about you, kid?"

[Kairi*]

Chole opened the door, and looked back once more for the night, then slowly closed the door then quickly turned around and began to look around for anyone. it was clear except for the empty cars. She remembered before this all happened when she walked out of her house and many people where walking around and there where many moving cars. She remember her last time spent in the car with her friends, they where on there way to a party all laughing and smiling. She remember her friend Nate was having a party for his father letting him buy a club. She heard a scream and the memory vanished as she quickly looked down the street. "i wounder how all of this even started" she thought to herself as she walked down the steps from her door to the side walk gun in hand.

[Misuzu]

Clint holstered his Glock as they walked. He kept his gaze straight forward, not looking at the massacre that lay all around them. It was too much, sometimes, and his time on the police force had certainly never hardened him against this level of violence and death.

He couldn't help but be bothered by the gore piled everywhere, no matter how long he had been dealing with it, and the smell was making him more nauseous than normal--probably thanks to his concussion. Clint reminded himself that he still had to find the sucker that had cuffed him up.

It took him a minute or two to realize that the young man with him had said something, and he blinked, "Huh? Oh...I'm from here. New Yorker, born and raised. What about you, kid?"

Brayden had forgotten even his own age for a minute. He thought of himself older. Even though his appreance showed him to be of the 18-20 years of age, he was still seventeen years old. He supposed he was still considered a 'kid', then. "Germany. Came to NYC when I was a bit younger." That flicked a swtich in his mind down memory lane. He instantly erased those thoughts, feeling frustrated. That was the last thing he needed, More stress. He didn't say anything more after that and opened the metal door carefully, scanning the area. The handle was the same as when he left it, so he knew for sure no one else had entered. "Its fine in here. You can rest here." He walked over to the door again and bolted the door shut with the many locks that were already set up and strong, then walked over to the living room, staggering along the way. His heart was throbbing horribly, and he needed rest now.

[Kairi*]

Chole began to walk down the street gun in hand watching around her just incase she see's any of the infected. "i wounder what mariah is doing right now" she thought as she steped as light as she could to be as queit as normal. She heard a moaning sound and qickly turned her head to her right side and saw one infected person. She raised her gun towards him and began to shoot, the bullet hit his shoulder which caused him to take a small step back. She shot again this time towards the feet and the zombie fell to the ground, she shot once more at his head and he finaly died. She looked at the motionless infected man and sighed. "i just wasted two bullets. I should of aimed for the head from the beginning" she told herself as she lowered her gun

[Samletbird]

Brayden had forgotten even his own age for a minute. He thought of himself older. Even though his appreance showed him to be of the 18-20 years of age, he was still seventeen years old. He supposed he was still considered a 'kid', then. "Germany. Came to NYC when I was a bit younger." That flicked a swtich in his mind down memory lane. He instantly erased those thoughts, feeling frustrated. That was the last thing he needed, More stress. He didn't say anything more after that and opened the metal door carefully, scanning the area. The handle was the same as when he left it, so he knew for sure no one else had entered. "Its fine in here. You can rest here." He walked over to the door again and bolted the door shut with the many locks that were already set up and strong, then walked over to the living room, staggering along the way. His heart was throbbing horribly, and he needed rest now.

Clint sank down onto a moth-eaten chair once they had reached the living room of the abandoned house. He grunted, wincing and putting a hand against the side of his head, feeling the blood that had caked there from where he had been struck earlier.

His dark eyes fell to the his right pant-leg, which was dirtier than the other, caked with blood and grime, and it looked like something had bitten right through the denim...

"Crap," he hissed, suddenly remembering just what it was that had happened. "Those friggin' idiots..." he grumbled.

The former policeman looked up at Brayden, "So you wanna know what happened to me? I just remembered."

[ZombiGirl]

Jumping up to peer through the peep-hole, Coralie tried her best to spot any zombies in the seemingly deserted street. Sighing with frustration at her short statue, she thought aloud "Oh, what the hell." And rammed the heavy door open with a fierce-some kick, action-star style. Satisfied with her destruction, she stepped over the threshold tentatively.

The street didn’t look much different than it normally did, apart from the curious lack of cars. This was a nice part of town, and the streets were litter and gum-free. No kids ever played in the streets. Or went out there altogether, in fact. The wide sidewalks were sad, and empty. Not a souls seemed to be around. Or any zombies, for that matter.

Relieved, Coralie set off down the road. See, like eating cake. Not a zombie anywhere. Wouldn’t it be funny if this was some huge joke to keep everyone panicking, like War of the Worlds or that Halloween episode of the Simpsons? Smiling to herself at her conspiracy theories, Coralie turned the corner, away from her house. This block was just as dead.

That is, until Coralie heard a strange moaning sound in the dingy alley ahead of her. It stopped her dead in her confident tracks Silt, what the fudge was that? She waited nervously for a few moments, until the low moan came again. Clutching her pipe tightly with both hands, her fingers going numb, she willed herself to shuffle forward a little.

“Urgh....” the pathetic noise again. It seemed to be getting closer and closer. Coralie shuffled forwards again Run you stupid woman! She tried to obey her thoughts, but her feet had a mind of their own.

Soon, it was too late; the zombie lurched out of the shadows of the alley.
It’s appearance was hardly unexpected - torn clothes, manky flesh, drooping, uncoordinated limbs. This one looked it had been the kind of person that had lived on this street, as he was wearing a fancy suit, and had clean hair. But all of this didn’t matter now; he had blood-encrusted bite marks on his body, and his eyes were a strange, milky white.

The stench of rotting flesh emanating from it was overwhelming. Coralie found herself aware of small, choking noises in her throat. It swung around, straight in her direction, and made small, slow steps towards her. Oh God, oh God, I’m gonna die. It was hardly fast, but it seemed to be making good progress on it’s way to eat her.

Again, she wanted to run, but by now her feet were totally frozen to the ground with fear, and her heart danced. Yet, her arms were fine. Without thinking, she swung her pipe hard in a well-perfected stance.
The edge of the metal pipe clipped the zombie’s shoulder with enough force to remove a chunk of mouldering flesh, and send it sprawling onto the floor. Finding her feet at last, she stepped forward, and it it again, in the back. The zombie groaned, and stop moving. Coralie wasn’t naive enough to think it was dead, so she left it be and, continued her journey, at a quicker pace than before.

Now, that wasn’t so bad. I gotta admit, it’s not so scary once you’ve floored it. Hey, I may get used to this.

[rzgrz]

Night had come to the city as some street lights came on, most of which were falling down and such. John had finally cleared the Hospital when all of the sudden a cry came in hearing distance. "Charlie, spot it now" he said as he knived a few zombies that were standing around.
"Yes sir, theres a walker going toward the sound sir. It could have came from anywhere though."
"Alright go back to base. I'll follow on my own time" John replied as he moved on and watched Charlie move from his position back to the truck. He followed close behind the zombie as it moved to where the scream was heard. After moving a few blocks he heard a few gunshots. Someones alive. he thought as he started to run.

[Wzrdto25]

Username: Wzrdto25
Name: Will
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Height: 5'11
Weight: 140
Ethnicity:White
Birthplace: California, Hollywood
Character Picture:
http://fc03.deviantart.com/fs43/f/2009/071/6/3/lol_womanizer_by_Ixenn.png
Character Story: Born as a child to one of the biggest film-directors in the history of film directors, Will grew up around the big screens. He studied hard in school and opened his first web-show when he was 13. 4 Years later he is a widely known internet star with his own reputation in Hollywood. It was on short notice when opening week on his new film, his father could not attend and they asked instead for his son. Will graciously accepted and was welcomed warmly at the red-carpet in NYC. However, that is when things broke down and a nearby outbreak caused the actors and honored guests to scream in panic. Will managed to make his way to his hotel, avoiding the worst of the disease. He found his equipment and set forth to record the whole thing, straight to his web-show. He hopes that someone will come to save him.
Character Personality: He's very weird and funny. He loves to be the center of attention and often times loses track of what's going on. He lives with his camera in his hand.
Character Appearance: He is tall and skinny. Red hair, green eyes, and nice clothes.
Other Physical Characteristics: Not very strong but fast.
Occupation: Film-maker.
Equipment: Camera, plenty of batteries and tape.
Advantages: Can run for hours and not get caught. Has a good steady hand and captures everything on tape. Has backpack full of computer and other equipment. Broadcasts 24/7 in hopes of getting help.
Disadvantages: Is very weak.
Skills: Quick, and steady. Able to figure out anything electrical.
Strength: 70
Stamina: 90
Charisma: 70
Dexterity: 90
Intelligence: 100
Perception: 100

[IndieJocky]

Accepted ;D

P.S.
Applications CLOSED

[Misuzu]

Clint sank down onto a moth-eaten chair once they had reached the living room of the abandoned house. He grunted, wincing and putting a hand against the side of his head, feeling the blood that had caked there from where he had been struck earlier.

His dark eyes fell to the his right pant-leg, which was dirtier than the other, caked with blood and grime, and it looked like something had bitten right through the denim...

"Crap," he hissed, suddenly remembering just what it was that had happened. "Those friggin' idiots..." he grumbled.

The former policeman looked up at Brayden, "So you wanna know what happened to me? I just remembered."

Brayden staggered over to the deteriorated black leather arm-chair and fell right into it, a little harder than he expected. He kept his hand glued against his chest and stared down at the man's leg, a hole torn right through his jeans encased with faded crimson blood. A wave came over Brayden and he swallowed hard, a knot forming in his throat. The last thing he needed was for this new accomplice to turn into an infected right before his eyes.

Yet, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He sighed, and scratched his head, trying to keep his cool, despite the immense shoots of pain swelling in his chest. He just silently squeezed his white shirt beneath his jacket tighter and let out a slow breath. "Sure." He replied, moving his eyes down to the rotting wooden panels on the floor.

[Samletbird]

Brayden staggered over to the deteriorated black leather arm-chair and fell right into it, a little harder than he expected. He kept his hand glued against his chest and stared down at the man's leg, a hole torn right through his jeans encased with faded crimson blood. A wave came over Brayden and he swallowed hard, a knot forming in his throat. The last thing he needed was for this new accomplice to turn into an infected right before his eyes.

Yet, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He sighed, and scratched his head, trying to keep his cool, despite the immense shoots of pain swelling in his chest. He just silently squeezed his white shirt beneath his jacket tighter and let out a slow breath. "Sure." He replied, moving his eyes down to the rotting wooden panels on the floor.

"Damn thing got me pretty hard," Clint snorted, his devil-may-care attitude toward the wound alarming at best. He looked up at Brayden, "You look a little worried. Don't be, it's not a big deal."

He bent over slightly, grabbing the hem of his jeans and dragging the pant leg up to his knee, revealing the tan and silver prosthetic leg that disappeared into his boot where his lower-calf would have been. There was a bite mark clearly indented on the metal.

"I was travelling with some idiots when I got bit," he explained, "They cuffed me to that pole because they didn't have the stones to shoot me. Lucky me, I guess."

[Misuzu]

"Damn thing got me pretty hard," Clint snorted, his devil-may-care attitude toward the wound alarming at best. He looked up at Brayden, "You look a little worried. Don't be, it's not a big deal."

He bent over slightly, grabbing the hem of his jeans and dragging the pant leg up to his knee, revealing the tan and silver prosthetic leg that disappeared into his boot where his lower-calf would have been. There was a bite mark clearly indented on the metal.

"I was travelling with some idiots when I got bit," he explained, "They cuffed me to that pole because they didn't have the stones to shoot me. Lucky me, I guess."

Brayden mid-nodded, but then winced at the feeling of the growing pain. It never stopped. It only got worse as his life went on. When it'd finally take his life, he didn't want to find out. But when his time came, he'd go like normal. He'd be with the rest who left him years ago.

He glanced over at the prosthetic leg and examined the bite mark, releasing a sigh of relief in his mind that his flesh wasn't bitten. He was somewhat curious as to how he got that leg, but he knew better not to speak of such things without consent. It was the way he was brought up, so he knew not to speak out of hand. He then tried to ease the pain that was eating away at his mind and hunched over, elbows on knees and one hand covering his face as the other clenched his chest. Each beat came with a new pain, one foreign to his being. He was sick of this defect of his. He wished it'd leave, but of course, it wouldn't. It was his baggage to carry since everyone else was already gone.

[Samletbird]

Brayden mid-nodded, but then winced at the feeling of the growing pain. It never stopped. It only got worse as his life went on. When it'd finally take his life, he didn't want to find out. But when his time came, he'd go like normal. He'd be with the rest who left him years ago.

He glanced over at the prosthetic leg and examined the bite mark, releasing a sigh of relief in his mind that his flesh wasn't bitten. He was somewhat curious as to how he got that leg, but he knew better not to speak of such things without consent. It was the way he was brought up, so he knew not to speak out of hand. He then tried to ease the pain that was eating away at his mind and hunched over, elbows on knees and one hand covering his face as the other clenched his chest. Each beat came with a new pain, one foreign to his being. He was sick of this defect of his. He wished it'd leave, but of course, it wouldn't. It was his baggage to carry since everyone else was already gone.

Clint pulled his pant-leg back down over the prosthetic, smiling weakly to himself and mumbling, "I guess it's not the greatest survival excuse in the world. But..."

He stopped talking when he looked back toward Brayden, finally noticing the young man's discomfort.

"Hey," Clint asked, frowning slightly in concern, "You okay, kid? You don't look so good..."

[Misuzu]

Clint pulled his pant-leg back down over the prosthetic, smiling weakly to himself and mumbling, "I guess it's not the greatest survival excuse in the world. But..."

He stopped talking when he looked back toward Brayden, finally noticing the young man's discomfort.

"Hey," Clint asked, frowning slightly in concern, "You okay, kid? You don't look so good..."

Brayden endured more shocks being sent to his heart and then stood up, walking over to the boarded up window while basically falling against it. He put up his other arm against the molding wood to keep himself from falling to the ground in general. Squinting for a few seconds them re-opening his eyes he said, "It's nothing important," bluntly. He kept his hand attached to his chest though, and he knew he wasn't fooling anyone but himself.

He desperately tried to block out the pain and glanced over at the hanging clock in the kitchen that somehow miraculously still worked. It read, '1:42'. He needed rest. And he wouldn't get it unless these pains at least somewhat subsieded. He'd have to just ride them out. "I've had this since I was a kid." He added, grunting soon after.

[Kairi*]

Chole kept walking around the city trying to stay a good distance from her house. She hasent seen any infected apart from the one she just killed. She stopped infront of a empty house and sat down on the steps leading to the door, she reached into her pocket and grabed the box of amo that she had found in her house. she pulled out a couple bullets and filled the gun, then quickly put the box away.

She sighed "im so tired" she told herself as she leaned back against the steps "i wound if Mariah has found out that i left again" she thought, she remember that Mariah said she was going to call her mother. She reached around her pockets for her phone "just great. I left it in my room" she whispered.

[Wzrdto25]

Will felt a wave of panic swell up inside him. His hotel room was ominous, the corner of it shifting shadows that made him jump at the very sight of a flicker. He couldn't live like this for much longer, no matter who you were there was only a certain amount of crazy that you could handle before you snapped. He was visualizing his breaking point now, hoping it wasn't soon. His only connection to the outside world, his laptop, was what kept him sane. He had used his global card to connect to a satellite and steal internet. He though it he was able to reach someone, he wouldn't go crazy and he needed that hope. He was hallowed here, broadcasting. "Hello, my name is Will, if you're watching this, then that means there is hope somewhere out there. I am probably one of the few left in New York City, this thing, this weird virus or disease, it has consumed the entire city. I am fearful for my life. I have found a decent satellite to broadcast from so I will capture all that I can and archive it. If you're watching this, you are not alone." He closed the laptop and stopped recording with his webcam. Tears filled his eyes, thinking of his father and his mother, across the country, he needed to know if they were okay but the internet all across the country was out. He grabbed another kudos bar and unwrapped it, shoving it down with some bottled water. His hotel mini-fridge had barely anything left and all the food he had was inside his back-pack, snacks his mother had forced him to bring. He thanked the lord she had actually been looking out for him and it had saved his life. During the pre-screening for the new movie an outbreak bigger than any seen before had hit the city and he had barely escaped with his life. Once inside his hotel room he could hear those putrid creatures outside in the halls and down below, hollering at the sky and destroying everything in their path. He tucked his camcorder under his arm and moved to the large glass window. He pointed down below and zoomed in as far as he could, they were standing like statues down below, waiting for him, or some other unsuspecting soul to wander down into their clutches. He didn't notice he was pressing his face to the glass and it fogged up. He wiped it with his sleeve and crossed back to his bed. He could hear them pounding on the doors outside. He slid his iPod headphones in to drown it out and fell asleep. He always carried plenty of batteries and chargeable equipment, so even in a black-out he could use his equipment. The generator down the stairs, however, would serve him some purpose to turn back on. He sighed, he knew he wouldn't survive out there so he shied away that though and turned his head to face the pillow. He was unconscious in minutes.

Hours later, maybe even days, he wasn't keeping track of dates he awoke to a ping on his laptop. He opened his eyes and blinked through them. Once he realized it was a hit on his website he shot out and went over to his computer. He pressed a few buttons and it shot to life. The battery was dying however, and he might have to replace it soon, either that or go downstairs and fix the generator. He looked at the hit and saw it was a comment from a mystery user. It read. "S. Says: You are not alone, keep fighting to stay alive and keep the cameras rolling, the world needs to see this." Will was halfway through replying when his laptop flashed and went out. He pulled out a spare from his suitcase and found it was empty, not charged. He sighed. His breath seemed to be seen in front of him. He grabbed his clothes and rinsed it off with a nice cold shower, the good news was the water systems still slightly worked. He dried himself off with a few stolen towels and glanced at his computer then the door. Maybe, he thought, if I could just make it down stairs and back, I could charge all my batteries. Will went for the flashlight keychain he had and looked in his bag for another kudos bar and found it empty. "Hmmm- I really could go for some food." He grabbed his equipment, his camcorder and a can of axe, along with a lighter and his goggles and gloves and creaked the door open. Immediately he could smell a strong odor. Decrepit flesh invaded his nose and he had to slink back into his room to grab a bandanna to wear over his mouth. He shut his door behind him and let it click shut. He looked at the other side of the door and saw long scratch marks creeping down the door and into the floor, where a long trail of blood led off down the hall. Will gulped, feeling just how close he was to actually being attacked by these creatures. He sniffed hard and found the stench more bearable. He stupidly tried the elevators first, he knew they wouldn't work but if the slightest chance pointed to them then he had to at least try. Next he tried the stairs, which seemed empty enough. He moved a floor down before he heard a door swing open. He glanced up, he was on the 40th floor, this was the 39th and the 5 floors above him didn't seem to be too inviting. He looked up and saw a shadow creep along the wall. Will backed up onto the 39th floor and shut the door silently. He looked down and saw a shadow slide through the darkness and to the other side of the door. It sniffed for a long moment then disappeared. Will let out a held breath and got back to his feet. Just as he did, though a huge bang made him jump. Something was slamming itself into the door now, trying to break through. Will decided in one quick motion to not let them get to him and made his way to laundry chute. He glanced back at the door and saw a dent forming, eventually the thing would break through and find him, the stairs were his only option until now, and the elevators were a "no-go." He took a deep breath and dived into the chute, his foot kicking the sliding door closed.

The next minute or so went by in a blur. He could not tell--for the life of him--what was going on. He saw blackness and only blackness and then he landed on a pile of soft clothes. He could smell their musty scent, even through the bandanna. He looked over and found a few machines opened wide and to the left of them a door that read, "kitchen." He glanced to the other side and found a door that read "lobby." Taking the safest option he slid into the kitchen, turning around from the lobby. He shut the door behind him, trying to buy him some time from whatever may be following him and made it safely to the kitchen. In the kitchen he stashed a bunch of essentials into his backpack and from here he emerged in a long ballroom scenario. He was certain he was going the wrong way and turned around. On the opposite wall from the Laundry room was a door that read "boiler room." Will gulped again. He moved forward thinking: I'm asking to be killed. Once he was across the kitchen, however a large pounding noise came from the Laundry Room and he jumped sliding the door shut behind him. He waited as the shadowy creature moved for the Ballroom and then it's head shot up and it sniffed the air. Will was speechless, it was tracking his soap and using it to find him. He was stupid for thinking any different. He slid down the steps and into the steamy room. It was abandoned except for the furnace which still glowed brightly as he passed it. Making his way passed a long line of pipes he found the generator, dusty and forgotten, next to the circuit breaker. He knew nothing about the generator but found neat instructions to help him out. He bent down and found two long connector cables and plugged them into the circuit breaker and then dusted off the front of the generator, flipping a switch the oiled machine sprung to life and he quickly read the details. It would run a full-functioning hotel for a week, which meant he had probably a month or so to use it. Little did he know that the entire power in the hotel shot on at once, and the zombies saw a bright beacon in a dark city. Will moved to the back wall and found an exit straight to the lobby. He pressed the door and felt a hot breath on the back of his neck. He spun around as a creature shot forward and knocked him into the lobby. He felt it scrambling to get at his stomach but he kicked it off of him and sent it flying towards the doors of the hotel. He pulled himself off the ground and made his way toward the elevators. He pressed the button and looked back. The infect creature was hobbling back towards him. He pressed the button a few times and watched as it crawled down the floors. It was on 10 when the creature started running. It slid open just as the creature zoomed past and smacked into the wall behind him. Will hit the 40th floor and slammed his finger into the close door button. The creature managed to get itself between the doors as they jammed shut and he pulled out the axe, and the light and sprayed him in the face. The creature screamed and fell backwards struggling to deal with the pain. The elevator closed shortly after and it zoomed up to his floor and he emerged. He made his way back to his door, sliding his key in. He closed the door behind him and slid down it. Suddenly he heard a mass of cries and shouts from the street below and he went over to his window to investigate. He looked down and saw a swarm of zombies hobbling toward his hiding place, the one place he was safe. Floor after floor of brightly lit rooms were beckoning them forward. He has succeeded but lured them right to him. He had signed his own death over for his electronics.

[rzgrz]

It was now past midnight when his phone started to vibrate. he had recieved a text message from his base ordering him to come back. choices started to filter through his mind. If someone was out there they would be in danger since they let off gunshots. But then again it's been about an hour since so they could be dead already. He texted back saying he ws on his way but ran into a littlle trouble that was hardly anything. Once he put the phone away he continued on following the zombie which lead to a bunch of housings.

[Samletbird]

Brayden endured more shocks being sent to his heart and then stood up, walking over to the boarded up window while basically falling against it. He put up his other arm against the molding wood to keep himself from falling to the ground in general. Squinting for a few seconds them re-opening his eyes he said, "It's nothing important," bluntly. He kept his hand attached to his chest though, and he knew he wasn't fooling anyone but himself.

He desperately tried to block out the pain and glanced over at the hanging clock in the kitchen that somehow miraculously still worked. It read, '1:42'. He needed rest. And he wouldn't get it unless these pains at least somewhat subsieded. He'd have to just ride them out. "I've had this since I was a kid." He added, grunting soon after.

Clint narrowed his eyes suspiciously, keeping his gaze on the younger man, watching him stumble around, "Doesn't look like nothing."

He cocked his head to the side slightly, and started to stand, "You have a cronic condition? Did you ever go to a doctor?"

[Misuzu]

Clint narrowed his eyes suspiciously, keeping his gaze on the younger man, watching him stumble around, "Doesn't look like nothing."

He cocked his head to the side slightly, and started to stand, "You have a cronic condition? Did you ever go to a doctor?"

Brayden sighed. He never let himself open up like this. Ever. He would just throw someone a look and leave. But he was stuck with this nw accomplice, whether he liked it or not. And he needed to stay inside here, as well. Might as well get a few things off his chest anyway.

"My par-" He paused, absorbing another shock. "My parents took me to one when I was two. Nothing can help it. That's it." He said, not wanting to return to his wretched past. Especially bringing up anything about his parents. He even despised using the term. "Just...forget it." He said in a strong tone, yet a bit shaky. He walked out of the room and into one of the spare bedrooms down the hall, gripping the edge of the wall as he got there.

Letting his body fall onto the queen-sized bed, he gripped his chest until his knuckles turned white. I'll be fine...It'll stop... He had to keep reassuring himself just to keep himself from screaming. He shrouded his face with the other hand and controlled his trembling breaths and waited for the nightmare to end.

[IndieJocky]

OOC: Sorry for my delay.

BIC:
Had time stopped again? What time was it? 10 in the morning or 10 in the evening? He had no way to tell in his dark abyss that was his room. Was it on the 25th floor? 65th? God, he was mad! He knew he had to get out soon. There had to be other people. The young man sat in the middle of his flat. The windows were boarded up transforming the room into a dark cave whose only light source was a oil lamp set up in-front of the man. He ran his hands through the top of his hair.
"Pull yourself together Alexander..."
Slowly Alex got up from the floor he sat on and dusted off his pants. He walked over to the wall nearest to him and picked up his Remington. He bent down to a small box next to his guns and picked up some ammo. He placed it in his pockets and loaded his gun. He sighed slightly and began to walk towards the door of his apartment. He unbolted all the locks and opened the door slightly checking to see if the area was clear. Once it as he walked outside slowly. He talked to himself in a low voice.
"Time to go."
He closed the door behind him and began walking down the hallway towards the elevator.

[Kairi*]

Chole stood up off the steps "i should probably get home" she told herself as she headed back for her house "i hope mariah wont be mad at me" she said, she could almost hear her yelling at her for going out again then telling her she was going to call her mom. she sighed as she saw the infected she had killed earlyer. It was getting early and mariah might be asleep if she was lucky. As her house got more into view she started to slow down scared for what would happen at her house

[AzureRebirth]

OOC: Sorry for the late reply, busy with IRL.

As Chris passed through the alleys, with his handgun ready. In just a few minutes, the sun hopefully would rose up and shed some light in this zombie apocalyptic world again. As he silently walked at the dark alley, he saw a shadow approaching just at the end of the alley which was leading to the streets. In there he saw a girl walking down the streets. Raising his pistol and turning on the flashlights, he pointed it at the girl.

"Hey you! you're still alive right?" He shouted at the Chole as he cautiously approached her.

[rzgrz]

As day started breaking he had over 20 text on his phone. The zombie still moved foward through alleys and houses, now met up with a few others. As they aproached another alley he heard a person yell. New york had been verry quiet since the attack, the slightest shreeks of a tire can carry on for a few blocks. The zombies rounded a corner with John close behind. Up ahead he could see a man carrying a gun. I knew there would be survivors. he thought as he sliced the head of one of five zombies. He then waited to see if they would react to it as he hid behind a trashcan out of sight. Instead the zombies continued as the man was met up with a girl.

[Yoyocool]

OOC: Important update

As one of the GM: I have decided to introduce Psychopaths into the role play. They are NPC bosses that me and indiejocky manipulate as a added factor of terror. Psychopaths are heavily armed and dangerous. They will hunt zombies and humans alike.

Often, they will have special abilities and equipment that are unavailable to survivors. So, it will often take more than one player to defeat them.

Other than being super powerful, these Psychopaths will leave behind bonuses for the player team that defeat them. These bonuses can range from special items to even learning (either by imitating or seeing through observation) special abilities.

here is the first:

The Killer
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/308/81392-18009-105415-3-wanted_super.jpg

A old soldier who has participated in the majority of the later half of the 20th Century engagements as a soldier of Fortune. His battle prowness and ruthlessness had earned the title "The Killer".

Little is know about him but rumors of his ungodly aim is rampant with stories of hitting people from miles away. He is known to carry a McMillan Tac-50 (.50 Caliber rifle), 2 Fully automatic Glock 18, and a Daewoo USAS-12 fully automatic shotgun.

I will edit it in more if i can with more details fleshing them out.

As of now, anyone feel free to include him in your next post but it has to be because of a sniper shot. It doesn't have to be it missing you (i rather it not) but rather crossing through the streets and you see zombies falling down to his rifle fire. Be imaginative but don't count on him missing you. He may be old but his eyesight has not been degraded in the slightest.

And yes, this is Yoyocool invoking his God modding powers for this. Just FYI clarification.

[KH2_FinalSora]

((*cracks fingers* Alright...let's see if I can actually get into this...))

He was alone. That was all that mattered. No one in sight...that was a good thing, right? Trey leaned against the brick wall near the street. There wasn't a single person in sight, infected or human.

"I don't like this." That was all he needed. He twirled around into the street and began to run. Both of his magnums were in his hands, ready to fire. It didn't matter though. No one was around.

So he thought.

There was a gunshot. Then searing pain, followed by the sound of one of his magnums hitting the floor. Trey cursed, and dove into the next alleyway. He was afraid to look down, but did so anyway. There was blood alright, but... whoever had shot had missed his hand entirely. It was only the force of the impact that ruined his hand.

Trey tried to clench a fist. No luck. It wouldn't move. That's not good. He looked into the street, eying the remains of his magnum. That's just as bad. He shook his head.

He was stuck.