2020, such an imaginitive year.

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Intro.
“Rabies has had a strange effect on humans nowadays,” the man on the small television screen said. “Once the humans die they rise again, as green skinned, human eating machines. These have been known as Zombies. Now these ‘Zombies’ have their own virus, one bite, and in three days from being bitten you will be a zombie yourself.”

Many people shut off this report. The zombie attacks had been minor, and as far as they could tell, it wasn’t that bad. Sure, another person had been turned into a zombie. Three zombies died when one was turned.

It’s the year 2020, medicine, and weapons, are the only things that have evolved since 2009. The zombie problem started in April, when scientists came out with “the cure for cancer.” They used another virus, rabies, to fight off cancer. This worked for a few weeks. Then they started showing signs of dying, for some unseen reason.

When they were looked at it, it looks like both the cancer, and rabies were attacking the brain. This caused the victim to slowly die. Painfully.

The first time someone had risen as a zombie was in early May. It was a mother, whom had three kids, and a loving husband. When they saw her roaming through the streets, they were overjoyed. They wrapped their arms around the mother, but when she bit into their skulls, they were rather unhappy. Two of the children died right away. The father ran with the third child.

The youngest child. This youngest child had been bitten on the arm. Three days after being bitten, she was a monster like her mother. It was heartbreaking, but the father fired on his own eight year old daughter.

Then the government was alerted when cases of Zombies were rising in several cities across America.

Nothing wrong, “This is an isolated incident.” All over the country they heard this.

These towns started getting bad, out of hand. So they simply isolated them from the rest of America. A few people managed to get out, and contaminated the other towns. By late August all of America had been overrun by zombies.

Some fled to other countries, hoping for a cure. Of course other countries were trying to avoid this, and didn’t want to have to develop a cure. Sure enough a chain reaction was started.

Our story is in America. A few survivors just hide, hoping not to die. Some try to wipe the earth clean, or at least just a single town, of the zombies. Then there are those, whom are looking for a cure, that can be spread through the air.

There is an injection, they made it in the hospitals when the virus first started taking hold of some towns. This injection can add four more days of life to the infected person.

You are either a zombie, infected, or a survivor. Will you find a cure, or hide?

Rules.
1.) No godly, super awesome fighter characters. No fun.
2.) No over powered guys, who have like a thousand weapons. Not fun either.
3.) No magic, just saying, in case SOMEONE got an idea.
4.) You can play a zombie right off the bat, yeah, cool!
5.) You can play two characters if you wish, one must be a zombie though.
6.) If your bite isn’t deadly, then you live for three days.
7.) Sure it’s like a repeat of six, but no immunity to the bite.
8.) Zombie relationships are allowed. Just keep it realistic.
Numberless Rule: If your character dies, you can make another.

Race Descriptions.

Survivor:
A normal human, but is running from the zombies. They have learned how to survive well enough. It is hard, They generally live with other survivors, or are heartbroken for loss. If they live alone, chances are that they have gone insane. This is normal, and they could prove more dangerous then the zombies if they’ve gone crazy.

Infected:
This person has been bitten by a zombie. This bite was not enough to kill them, so they lived on. They normally refuse the fact that they are soon to become a zombie, and end up killing other survivors when they turn into a zombie three days later in the middle of the night. It’s just how it goes. They may also be in the search fore a cure, if this is the case they either travel in a group, or alone.

Zombie:
Someone who has fallen victim to the virus. They have died, they normally rise five to ten minutes after they die. Once they rise they contain little to no personality from who they were in life. They are rotting as the walk, and have bad motor, and physical skills. If they do retain personality, it’s just tiny fragments of memory, familiar faces. They still don’t avoid killing anyone. They want to eat, they will eat any living thing. They don’t stop at one bite, they keep going until even the bones are gone.

Profiles.

For a survivor:
Name:
Age:
Weapons:
Appearance:
Insane?:
History:
Personality:
Other:

For the infected:
Name:
Age:
Weapons:
Appearance:
Insane:
How were they infected:
Personality:
Other:

Zombie:
Name:
Age:
Race:
Appearance: (during life of course)
History: (during life)
Other:

My profiles.

Name: Daniel Witman
Age: 26
Weapons: An electrified staff
Appearance: Daniel Witman
Insane?: No
History: He lost his sister when the zombie attacks started. He was heartbroken. And he swore revenge. He learned staves as a hobby not long before the attacks, and he simply picked up a staff that wasn’t for training. He now is part of a small group of survivors, in search of the cure.
Personality: Nice when you get through all the sadness, mildly depressed, and serious when it comes to zombies.
Other: Up for love, and any kind of friendship, though he might avoid you.

Name: Jenna Lorence
Age: 16
Weapons: A dull letter opener.
Appearance: Jenna Lorence
Insane: No, but in denial.
How were they infected: All she had to defend herself was a dull letter opener, and she couldn’t get her hands on something else, something better. So she got to close to the head of a zombie three hours ago, she fled, and won’t accept the fact that she was bitten. She joined a group of survivors, in search of the cure. She keeps her hand bandaged at all times.
Personality: Loving, distant, and happy when she doesn’t think about her bite.
Other: Up for love, but um, plan on loving a zombie soon.

When there are two profiles posted we'll start, I'll tell you when profiles close.
Last edited by TalaPaulwic on Thu Oct 15, 2009 4:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.
All I can hear; "I me mine, I me mine, I me mine". Even those tears; "I me mine, I me mine, I me mine". No one's frightened of playing it. Everyone's saying it. Flowing more freely than wine. All through your life; "I me mine".




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haha yey!! zombies number 2!! i want spot, but im busy now
Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne




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Alright. Spot saved.
All I can hear; "I me mine, I me mine, I me mine". Even those tears; "I me mine, I me mine, I me mine". No one's frightened of playing it. Everyone's saying it. Flowing more freely than wine. All through your life; "I me mine".




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Name: Grace Hurley

Age: 20

Weapons: Whatever happens to be lying around.

Appearance: Image

Insane: Not yet

How were they infected: While making a quick run to an abandoned supermarket, Grace was unexpectedly attacked by a lone zombie. She had no means of protecting herself other than the zombie had a peculiar lack of bloodlust at that moment. Grace escaped to a nearby hospital where she stumbled upon the injection which is how she plans on keeping herself from turning, but it will take a great toll on her health and livelihood. She is searching for a cure alone right now, but might soon team up with a group of survivors.

Personality: Wicked smart and resourceful. Grace knows how to provide for herself, and is able to survive on her own. She is determined to find a cure for her own survival first, and will not let anyone stand in her way. She's a nice person underneath the intense need for a cure.

Other: The injections are keeping her from changing, but seriously affect her health. She looks like death and her voice is raspy when the injection begins to fade. Up for love if you can deal with her.

*Hope the whole injection thing is okay*
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Name: Natalie (no known last name)

Age: 17

Weapons: A handgun and a machete

Appearance:
AnimeGirl36.jpg
AnimeGirl36.jpg (43.94 KiB) Viewed 228 times


Insane?: Not yet.

History: Normal, lives on the outskirts of an infected city with her father. Her mother and older brother went into the town to find food and never came back. Her father got bitten by a zombie on his forearm just a couple of days ago, and they're both waiting for the change to take effect.

Personality: She's decently friendly, but she won't hesitate to kill if she's threatened. She values friends highly, and would gladly take a bullet (or a bite), for anybody lucky enough to befriend her. She has a lot of pride, and doesn't like asking for things.

Other: Up for a relationship.
Last edited by gsppcrocks10 on Wed Oct 07, 2009 4:00 am, edited 2 times in total.
Just another quack spouting psychobabble.

"If I win, I'm a prodigy. If I lose, then I'm mad. That's the way history is written."




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Okay, time to start my buddies. Hehe, we've got infected people already. I'm surprised. Would one of you like to go first, or should I?
All I can hear; "I me mine, I me mine, I me mine". Even those tears; "I me mine, I me mine, I me mine". No one's frightened of playing it. Everyone's saying it. Flowing more freely than wine. All through your life; "I me mine".




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I'll start. Post in a few.
Just another quack spouting psychobabble.

"If I win, I'm a prodigy. If I lose, then I'm mad. That's the way history is written."




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May I post? I am yet unfamiliar as to how your continuous story rolls, and how 'reserved' profiles work out, but I would like to post here. If so...

Name: Berlin Starbuck.

Age: 16

Weapons: over-sized ninja throwing-star.

Appearance: Image

Insane?: almost, verging on the edge, but not showing it.

History: Remembers nothing before the day a zombie attack killed half a town and infected the other half. Almost the sole survivor of that attack, Berlin kills the zombies in an attempt to cleanse her world. Silent, dark, efficient: Berlin never knows what her actions will be, due partly to the fact that she is losing her mind, but the end result is always the same...dead zombie.

Personality: Quiet, observing. Always attempting to hide her insanity, a fact she is fully aware of. Symptoms of her madness are fits of rage during a zombie attack and split-personalities when alone, but only when alone.

Other: Berlin does not think she can adjust to a group life, one of the reasons why she has never sought out a group, but she might be willing to try.
-ж-Ж-ж-




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Saving spot fr survivor. I would prefer female but I'm guessing you might want a male as there are a couple of females?
"It is curious how often you humans manage to obtain that which you do not want."

-Spock.


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Saving spot for a female survivor. I'll post later.
No one is perfect. we're all different in our own way




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Name: Jesse Gillespie

Age: 19

Weapons: A baseball bat

Appearance: http://timofeev.deviantart.com/art/Look-67973631

Insane?: Not in the slightest

History: Fairly normal, he lived in New York with his father and little sister. He was the up-and-coming power hitter on his college team, everyone said he'd make it into the major leagues. When the zombie attacks started, he lost both his father and his sister to them, and desperately wants to find a cure in order to save them, if they're still alive by that stage.

Personality: Jesse's an all-around nice guy, and very big on helping others. His belief that the zombies still have a shred of humanity makes him somewhat reluctant to kill them, but he won't hesitate to smack one in the skull if they're threatening a friend. He maintains the personality he had before the virus spread, because he feels he needs it, but he's hurting really badly underneath it.

Other: Up for love, and definitely friendship

***

Name: Claudio Slater

Age: 24

Weapons: A hatchet and a revolver

Appearance: http://yourepretty.deviantart.com/art/I-Spy-7571626

Insane: Oh yes

How were they infected: Convinced that there was no chance of a zombie getting at him, Claudio simply wandered the streets for some time, taking food as it came to him and killing any zombie that got close – he made it his mission to rid the world of them. While he wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention to what was right in front of his eyes, he simply got jumped by one of them. He killed it, very violently, but not before it bit him. Now, he’s stocked up on injections – ones that he doesn’t intend to share with anyone – and intends to find a cure, even if it means killing. And he still really, really doesn’t like zombies.

Personality: Claudio is a nasty piece of work. Even when uninfected, he was a sociopath who believed he had a ‘higher calling’, though he didn’t know what it was until the zombies showed up. Compared to himself, he regards every other human being as both expendable and as a threat. He can hide all this beneath a façade of social acceptability, but the long and short of it is that he doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself, and if he has people with him, he’s just using them to get closer to his cure.

Other: Has about a month's worth of injections that he isn't keen on sharing. He won't even tell anyone he has them. He hides the fact that he's infected. Maybe up for love.
He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt. - Yossarian, Catch-22

Wide-eyed stupid.

If you're gonna rule the world, you've gotta get up early! - Joel S. Dickens




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**Okay, starting now, because Tala asked me to.**

Natalie

I climbed up the narrow staircase. Each time my foot hit another step a loud creak echoed around the empty stairwell. I pulled my coat tighter around my body and reached into my pocket for my handgun when I reached the top of the stairs. There was a dark narrow hallway. I went to the first door on the right, gripping the handle of my gun tightly. I opened the door and walked inside, on the alert for anything out of the ordinary.

In the corner was a sad-looking twin bed that looked like it would fall apart at any moment. Other than that the room was unfurnished, except for a dirty blanket that was nothing but threads in the corner. Sitting on the bed was a middle-aged man with graying hair. He smiled when I came in. "Hey Nat." I relaxed and released my gun.

"Hi dad. How are you feeling?"

He grimaced. "My limbs feel like they could drop off at any minute."

"When do you think..." I trailed off.

He looked nervous. "I don't know hon. Any day now."

I swallowed. I didn't want this to happen. I had known my dad for my entire life. Confided in him. He had been there when the pressures of elementary school had weighed down on me. He had comforted me when my best friend fell to the zombie disease. And now...

I shivered. He saw my discomfort. "Nat, maybe it would be better if I just went into the city."

I shook my head violently. "You know that I'd follow you." I quickly changed the subject. "I managed to get my hands on some bread. It's not much, but it'll keep us alive another week or two." At least, it'll keep me alive...

He smiled. "That's my girl. Let's see."

I reached into one of the deep pockets of my jacket and pulled out a bag of wheat bread. I opened it and tossed him a slice. I ate the heel of the bread. We didn't let a single crumb go to waste.

My dad's eyes were distant. "It's going to happen tonight. I just know it." He looked at me. "Nat, I'm really really sorry for anything that happens, and I love you more than life."

***

I left the room again as the sun lowered itself below the horizon. My dad had insisted that I leave. He said that he didn't want me to see him as a zombie. He had told me to run.

The problem was, I didn't know where to run to.

I stood by the stairs for some time. Entering the city would be too dangerous. The only thing I could really do was wander the roads until I found someone or something of interest. It was dangerous, but my only choice.

Then the door swung open.

My hand went to my gun as I turned to face the door.

My father was standing there, but I didn’t recognize him for a moment. There was a crazy look in his eyes, almost animalistic. He was looking at me like I was something to eat. He lunged at me and I leapt out of the way. I didn’t want to kill him.

***

Ten minutes later my machete slipped from my shaking fingers, landing on the ground with a clatter. There was a series of thumps as his head rolled down the stairs. Hot tears ran down my face. I can't believe it. I killed my own father...

I curled up on the floor and sank into a fitful sleep.
Just another quack spouting psychobabble.

"If I win, I'm a prodigy. If I lose, then I'm mad. That's the way history is written."




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**No more girls please, unless you called a spot for one. Thankies**

**P.S. If you guys want to be part of the survivor group, then go to the town hall building.**

Daniel

He crept along the streets quietly. Before he stepped, he double checked himself, unsure of where he was going. He looked behind him. Several feet away, hiding behind a garbage bin, Jenna was following him. He nodded and continued to move forwards. Several feet, took about five minutes to move. Daniel was very nervous about traveling out in the open. He didn’t find it safe. Jenna said she understood, but was having a seemingly hard time.

Then there was a shut door, it looked rather secure. He looked up to find a window, one floor up, directly above the door. He put his staff down. He looked around to make sure that Jenna would be safe, being alone, for five seconds. He jumped onto the door frame, which stood out an inch or to. He had his arms reaching towards the window ledge. Once he had grabbed a hold of it he was fairly secure.

He shut his eyes.
“Aaaaargh” He let out a yell as he pulled himself up to the window ledge. He broke the glass, and hopped inside. He looked around and saw one zombie, dead, on the floor. Next to the severed body parts, was a girl, curled up on the floor.
“Pass up the end of my staff!” Jenna did as he asked.
“Alright, now, hold on!” She held on tightly, so did he. She jumped upwards, he pulled her onto the door frame. Then up through the window.

He fell backwards, and gasped for breath. Sadly they were not all that quiet, and woke the girl sleeping on the floor. She took a minute to fully take notice of them. Once she did she stood up and took a few steps backwards. Jenna, whom stood next to Daniel, drew her letter opened. Daniel took his staff off of the floor, and got it into a ready position.

He didn’t dare move. Jenna copied his movements. He looked over to Jenna.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” Daniel looked at the zombie more closely. It was an older man. Jenna saw what he was looking at, and watched his facial expressions. She could tell it was her father, she covered her mouth, and let her jaw drop.
“Who are you? Explain or I will toss you to the zombies!”
“I am Daniel, this is Jenna. We’re with a small group of survivors, we’re going out looking for more people to take into the group, then soon enough, we’re going out in search of a cure, everlasting.”
“And injections—on the way… right?!”

Daniel looked at her in an odd way. Then he nodded. He indeed though that having injections would be good just incase something did happen, like someone in their group had been bitten. He looked back up to the girl. He felt her loss, but for him, his sister was still out there, he couldn’t let her die.

Jenna seemed rather annoyed by his gesture of friendship towards the girl. She didn’t like this girl, she couldn’t place why, perhaps it would be, Jenna thrived on the attention from Daniel. She didn’t love, nor want to love him. She just… couldn’t be without his attention. She got through his cold, outer shell, and he treated her like his little sister. She liked it. She feared that this girl, would take that away from her.
All I can hear; "I me mine, I me mine, I me mine". Even those tears; "I me mine, I me mine, I me mine". No one's frightened of playing it. Everyone's saying it. Flowing more freely than wine. All through your life; "I me mine".




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Grace Hurley

The silence inside the confines of the decrepit hospital was nearly defeaning. Grace spent most of her time within the now-moldy walls of the place. The loneliness was almost enough to make her sick. Almost.

Grace grimaced as she stuck the needle into her arm and let yet another injection flow into her bloodstream. She sighed and lay back on the floor. The cold sweat that had plauged her all day faded away and her muscles finally relaxed.

"Back to business," she mumbled.

She pushed herself off the floor and wandered back into the research ward. Hundreds of documents on research attempts to find a cure for the zombie disease had been left behind. Grace had been lucky to stumble upon the top research facility in the country. The only downfall was that it was right in the middle of zombie territory.

Grace paused and listened carefully. Nothing.

Luckily she would be able to hear them coming.

"Hello?" a voice called through the silence.

Grace froze. She hadn't heard that.

"Please, someone, anyone. Is anyone here?" the voice called again.

Grace grabbed a small hand gun she had found on one of her scavanging missions through the hospital grounds and went in search of the source of the voice, prepared to take down anything that stood in the way of her research.

*can be anyone*
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Natalie

Grief was battering my insides like hundreds of hammers, though I hid it as well as I could. I shoved my personal feelings to the back of my mind. If I stayed here much longer I'd end up zombie chow soon enough. I would have to go with him. But I wasn't going to ask. If he thought that I could be useful to the group, he would have to ask me.

I stooped and picked up my machete from the floor. I saw Daniel and Jenna stiffen as I straightened, watching me closely. I ignored them and pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket. It was already stained red from use. I cleaned my machete with it, sticking it back in my pocket. I then put the knife in another pocket.

"I'm Natalie." I said after a moment of silence.
Just another quack spouting psychobabble.

"If I win, I'm a prodigy. If I lose, then I'm mad. That's the way history is written."



A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.
— W.H. Auden