Outbreak Alpha (IC)

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the red soldier
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#16 Post by the red soldier »

Character development!

Continuing forward on his quest to reach Ramon's Villa, Mud finally managed to cross Taff Grove with some close calls here and there. The Villa in sight, it was... smaller then expected and, more discouraging, was rather unprotected in any way, shape or form. "Rich place with no security, might check for loot at least..." Closely approaching the building, Mud carefully entered the wide opened door. By the looks of it the people living here left in a hurry. Not much was disturbed from first glance so probably no corpses but there was something... small steps here and there, some rummaging sounds in the distance a few seconds later.

Trying not to breathe so the sound of the gas mask wouldn't give off his location (They can be quite noisy with the heavy breathing and all) and a quick grab for his gun, the man silently glanced from one room to another, getting ever closer to the noise he was hearing. Finally, at the second story of the Villa, he found the source. Some girl, barely out out her teens by the looks of it, with a bag full of stuff,

Mud, being rather lazy, simply thought to himself that she already did the looting job for him! Simply grab bag and profit! Silently closing the distance as the girl seemed very preoccupied on something, Mud simply tapped the barrel of his gun behind the woman's neck. "No sudden movements girl..." Knowing that he had her attention as she grew as stiff as a lamp post, Mud continued. "Hands behind your head, slowly." She did as asked and Mud continued to tie her hands with a bloody bandage that was conveniently around his leg (Its in his pic!).

Spinning her around violently and shoving her into a corner, he quickly grabbed the bag and began to gloat quite proudly. "Never thought myself the sneaky type! Maybe I was meant for this thieving business all along!" He said laughing. "What do you think?" "Go to hell." The girl responded quite angrily.

"Meh suit yourself. If you want to be the [censored] type just stand in your corner and shut up." As he continued to rummage through the bag, he noticed that it was a majority of fancy trinkets and golden jewelry, large piles of money to. "Useless...useless...useless..." He continued saying as he looked at one item after another. "Useless... useless.. VERY USELESS... UsSsSsSEeEeElLlLlLEeEeEsSsSs..."

Quickly growing agitated, Mud suddenly threw the somewhat heavy bag at the girl, slamming right at her head as she wasn't expecting it. A big cut went through the side of her face as she started to bleed. "Come on girl! are you that STUPID?!?!? Gold?! Jewelry?! How is that crap valuable to ANYBODY?!" Slamming the girl on the ground with his right foot on her back, Mud checked her pockets only to find nothing, not even a makeshift weapon. "No food, no weapons, nothing... Eh eh eh... [censored] great..."

Detaching her arms, flopping to the sides of her, His foot still on her back, Mud took out his small axe, literally chopping her right hand off in one heavy swing. "MAYBE I'LL GNAW ON THIS LATER THEN SENSE YOU HAVE NOTHING ELSE! Came all the way here for absolutely nothing! [censored]!" He yelled, leaving the room as she screamed in agony, attracting every shambling corpse around.

Mud quickly left the Villa, heading towards the sea, starting to hear marching of maybe hundreds of corpses. If he remembered the last map he saw right, there should be an industrial building not to far west and a little village connected to it. The plan was simple, march from the beach side until the industrial sector came into view and, if abandoned, make camp for the night. Its been a crappy day, although crappier for someone else.
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y7h65
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#17 Post by y7h65 »

Grigori
Ukanc, The Gates

With a relaxed sigh, I leaned back on the lawnchair as the sun cut through the sky in a slow lazy fashion, the skies relatively cloud free. Days like this, I could forget about the zombie apocalypse that was happening right now all over the island. It seemed that no matter what sort of natural disaster was plaguing an area or two, the Earth would continue to spin. With a drawn out yawn I gazed down at the lake in time to see a fish break the surface far out in the lake. It seems that the fish and the wildlife in the lake managed to remain alive though I wasn't quite sure on whether or not it was possible for me to actually eat them.

Had to admit though, the scene that I was seeing was something that was missing in the pre-dead world. With the sun overhead, the water of the lake flickered and gleaned as light was refracted by the rhythmic motions of the water while the trees on the side of the lake gave the edges a green lustre, like a sapphire framed by emeralds glowing under the lamp. It was a small reminder that life still continued but a hundred small reminders would always be better than one large reminder. Better to live from moment to moment, forever looking to the next reminder that life would go on than to have one big reminder at the start and to never see another again.

Leaning back I continued to let my thoughts drift like the clouds that appeared, flitting from one subject to the next. Of my current status, questions about the world around me, and the inevitable onslaught of memories. For all the positives that a day as clear as this brought, I couldn't help but recall memories of the life I used to lead. The sound of voices calling out to me, asking me for help with their work. Of smaller hands grabbing my own, leading me to a new discovery. Of star filled nights illuminating a desert plain that seemed to stretch for as far as the eyes could see. As the thoughts led to inevitable memories of times long past, I stood up with one last melancholic sigh. I've rested at the top of the warehouse for long enough. For now I should continue working on trying to fix that generator. If I'm lucky I might just be able to figure out a way to get it to work without gasoline. I have enough books and handbooks to hopefully help me figure something out.
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LuckyMudman
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#18 Post by LuckyMudman »

Wolfgang strolled around the northern end of the town’s outskirts, trying to make it to the main-road. He came across a hunter’s lodge by the tree-line and his casual walk slowed to a halt. <“ Must be a hunter’s place, maybe I can find enough ammunition to make it to the FOB.”> Wolfgang mumbled in German with his cigar still in his mouth. He slowly walked towards it, pulling out his Glock 17 from an inside pocket from his jacket and carrying it with his right hand. Occasionally turning around in case any of those zombies were to ready to pounce upon him. He placed his left hand upon the doorknob, giving it a slight turn to open and a push. No dice, all that accomplished was a few bangings, like something was prompt to keep it closed. Wolfgang then tried the windows, surely that’ll yield result. No, still locked. Wolfgang decided to place his Glock away, this time bringing out his Mauser M12. Wolfgang looked around once again in case any zombies decided to stumble their way around here. None, good. He retrieved the butt of the rifle and then smacked it on the glass, breaking through.

Shaken from her sleep by what seemed like a banging noise, Elise grabbed and held her CZ550 close. As she drowsily looked around, a sudden sound of shattering glass startled her, and she jumped back in her chair, crashing with a yelp. Not knowing what to do, she skid over to the stairs that led to the attic and sat on them, her pack still on the table she fell asleep at. She held tight to her rifle, clearly shaking, and kept it pointed downstairs, towards where the sound came from.

Wolfgang forced enough room to get inside fully. He first placed his suitcase inside, then his backpack, and then the rest of him. A yelp, he herd; from where he could not say other than the lodge itself. He looked around, still keeping on his toes; a zombie could still be inside the lodge. Slung his rifle on his back and pulled out his Glock once again. Moving as swift as he could from room to room on the main floor, looking around. Then came the stairs leading up, he saw looking at it from the room just adjacent to it. To where, he does not know, possibly the attic. If someone was smart, they’d probably lay a trap right there, a good height advantage over anyone and better reaction timing. But then again, the likelihood of someone smart enough to do that are pretty slim and they most likely hiding in anxiety and despair. These are all assumptions; however, the yelp he heard earlier could have been his imagination playing tricks on him. Never-the-less, he wanted to play it safe. He took the cigar from his mouth, still long enough to be even more useful for him, and stuck the smoking end in visible sight, baiting in case someone was up there.

Elise kept still, and her ears perked, she could hear footsteps in the lodge. Quick, determined footsteps, not the constant dragging of the undead. As she kept looking downstairs, she saw a lit end of a cigarette and lifted her rifle up. "W-who... who's there? Come out slowly, I... I have a gun!" She had never pointed a weapon at a living person before, let alone shot at someone, but she couldn't know who was in the lodge with her.
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Stryder221
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#19 Post by Stryder221 »

Varil's search for a vehicle did not start off well at all.
Narrowly slipping past several zombie hordes while looking for something in good condition at the same time was not easy.

"Damn it! Every car we find is broken!"
He grumbled, slamming down the hood of an SUV perhaps a little too forcefully.

"We're doomed... I can't walk that far..."
"Oh! Mister Varil! Over here!"
"Eh...? Wha...?"
Varil followed the girl's yell, and found himself in a dark alley, with a green ATV parked right there.
That alone was a good find on Celia's part. But the best part...?

"Perfect condition! The engine's there, the tires are fine, and nothing's smashed! Oh thank you for your mercy, lord!"
"But... It says it's outta gas...!"

And that instantly shut him up.
"I take it back, We're doomed..."

He slumped into the ATV's seat, completely disappointed.
He wasn't alone in his disappointment, even Celia looked down.

Hold on...
Of course! How could he forget?

"No, we can still get this up and running. I think there's a gas station on the eastern outskirts of town. All we need to do is pay a visit, and take whatever fuel's left. A can or two of gas should be enough. Well, what are we sitting here for?! C'mon!"
"Meep! Wait up!"


*And so...*


It turns out that finding fuel was a bit... Difficult.
Other than finding a full bottle of orange soda inside the station itself, there didn't seem to be much else to find, no cans of gas just lying around, as Varil was hoping.
"So much for that idea..."

He was about to give up the search, before his ears suddenly perked up.
"Celia... Please tell me I'm not the only one hearing that..."

Celia strained her hearing to find out what Varil was talking about.
"I... I think I hear it, too..."

It sounded quite a bit like a distant engine, coming closer and steadily louder.
"We'd better hide."

The girl looked at him with a confused look on her face.
"Wha? Why? Whoever it is, they could help!"
"Or they could shoot us on sight. I already lost half my ear, I don't want to get anymore pieces blown off."
E͎͖̯̱̻͡r̲͇r͢҉͈͚ò͈̹̰̩̺͓̝̘̟̕r̨̡̺̥̲̰͕̭̬:̵͙̦̟̮̖̯̞́͢ ̴̛̞̙͙̠̲̝̟S̵͎̼̖̜̯͕̺͔̀i̶͉̟̝̻͕̺g̢̤͕n̴͈̩̝͓͖̹͕̟͢a͕̺̱͞ț̸̛͓u̢̥̣̣̰̪ͅr̨̠͙̯̣̣̘̠ḛ̡̨̟̗̥̰̱̻ͅ ̻̮̼̥͕̼͉͎u͏͔̳n͏͔͈̭̭͟a̮͕͖̲͕͙͔ͅv̺̦̼̥̭͙a͏҉̦̺̫̯i̝̙̳̜l̴̡̳̥͠a̢̘̬͈͢ͅb̶̶̦͉͙́ḷ̸̙̙̳̩̥́e͔̪̳̦̫͚̪̹ͅ.͖̠̗͔̖̞ͅ

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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#20 Post by Tyendinaga »

The Unknown Man
Ukanc, mid town.

With his own lips pursed together an eery whistle Had overtaken the solemn bricken and bricken path upon which he walked, the old Russian tune echoing throughout in a ghostly manner accompanied solely from the odd slap of a footfall within a puddle, and the unmistakable constant and even dripping of gutters and drains depositing what little water their badly designed eavestroughs still yet contained. Otherwise the small town of Ukanc was quiet. No survivors, and almost as few zombies seemed to lurk within. Perhaps isolation meant it was not an area the infection had reached early on, perhaps most of the people merely evacuated from this less than populous area, of course using such a revelation as an illusion of safety was something only a fool would do. It wouldn't have been so bad if it was simply zombies. In fact it was almost as if the zombies were far from the largest problem. Sure they could run after you, and couldn't feel pain, and hit rather hard at times, but a tough jacket will stop a bite with no issue and it's not like they carried guns. Rather, the real issue was the survivors themselves. Everybody would be fine if it was just some invading force, everyone would be fine but add one zombie and everyone goes crazy attempting to kill one another for meager supplies that could be better gained and used as a group anyway. It was pathetic in a way.

With a sudden pause, the whistling stopped, the pattering of his own footsteps coming to a halt. Along the line of exits from between the buildings that lead out into the streets he peered out due east towards the lake, he blinked once, twice. From his position in the back of the alley he had found himself looking upon something rather strange in the distance. Straight through the space between a pair of buildings he looked, something blue peeking out from an area back near the wharf that would invariably be placed dot on the edge of the lake. A shipping container? It wasn't exactly the best of angles to be seeing it from but something seemed to be vaguely off from a logical perspective. He needed a better vantage point. His eyes darted up the alley for a moment, spying a fire escape almost immediately. Without so much as hesitating he took off into a slight jog, quickly finding himself beneath the ladder and looking up, it was just out of reach, even if he jumped. He had to wonder for a moment though why they would make them so hard to reach. He understood the necessity of home security but paying the couple hundred for a rather nice door seemed like it would be a better investment than the hospital bills of the fatter lad or lady who would inevitably fall and break their ankles or something.

That though, was something to think of later, for now he wanted to get up. Turning around he immediately come to a dumpster, you know the kind, the metallic residential ones that had the plastic lids on top, often times graced by rust, drawings of questionably quality, or both. Moving around it he positioned himself up back first against the wall it sat against, his right arm sliding in behind it fully while his left loosely clasped onto the rear edge, with that he shifted himself further towards the wall, and with a raised stamp of his foot, threw his weight against it. With a soft screech the wheels began to give way, the end sliding out a mere few inches. Shifting back once more he repeated, the wheels screeching ever so slightly louder and sliding out somewhat more. With a somewhat haggard breath he began to move around to the other side, quietly wishing that that the zombie apocalypse could of perhaps decided to happen after garbage day. Once more he positioned himself at the rear corner of the can, reaching an arm behind and gripping the other on before shifting his weight back a bit, and suddenly forward. A soft but painful jolt rang through his arm and shoulder as the dumpster simply failed to move, the wheels could pivot but could not rotate, perhaps they were locked or rusted shut.

A simple sigh escaped him as he looked from the Dumpster and to the ladder above. If there was one thing he could try, it was jump. From the extended outward side of the dumpster he climbed, jamming his foot into the hold the garbage trucks would normally use to lift it and pulling himself up on top of the plastic lids and coming up to a stand shortly after. Oddly enough though, it was rather stable on top, perhaps being full of garbage was a good thing after all. A few short steps back though had taken him to the rear wall across from where the fire escape ladder was. He let out a deep breath, it was now or never. Taking in once last breath his body lurched forward, almost as if falling for a moment as he launched himself forward, taking a first acceleratory step across the black plastic lids, and a final one just on the edge that launched him further and forward, sailing through the air with a single arm extended all the way. Within a mere moment he had went from slowly wrapping the tips of his fingers around the lowest hanging bar, and finding himself simply rocking back and forth hanging loosely from the lowest rung of the ladder itself, his grip slowly beginning to fade all the while. Simply he began to pull himself up by his hands alone, soon planting his feed on the lowest rung as well all the while pushing and pulling himself up onto the escape itself.

From there on he climbed up, circling around the metallic stairs rattling about as he ascended his way. It didn't take long though, at least not very long to reach the top and third story of the building itself. It was one of those apartments store top apartments that the building owners like to rent or perhaps live in. At the top he came to a clandestine white door, a pair of hinges, a knob, and perhaps a small deadbolt. Immediately though he tried the door itself, it remained locked. Silently he cursed himself, it was always one thing after another wasn't it? Rearing back he planted himself and began to surge forward, firmly planting his boot underneath the door knob with each successive kick he gave it the wood began to splinter, further and further. Soon though he paused a bit is breathing slightly off as he prepared himself for one final kick. Bracing himself once more he surged forward, pressing down with all his might and weight as he kicked once more. With an ungodly crack like lightning itself the door frame exploded inwards cracking down the center. He had found the door flying inwards, and himself flying backwards from the mistimed kicked. With a crash his body fell into the railing, rusted metal supports giving out a second crack as it too began to fall apart. With an outstretched hand he gripped on to whatever he could, finding one of the other two railings. With a slight pop the railing behind him completely gave out, falling to the concrete alleyway below with a deafening bang as he himself had found himself ever so slightly hanging on with most of his upper body simply hanging over the edge. That would have been a sad death.

After a moment or so of squirming around he pulled himself back onto his feet and slowly proceeded into the apartment itself. As he entered his nostrils were hit by the distinct and overpowering scene of smoke and animal urine, and something he couldn't quite put his nose on. It was a ratty old place though, something like you would expect an older fellow or pensioner with absolutely no sense of smell and a bad smoking habit to inhabit. Old rugs and tacky yellow stained wall paper. Even a small tube television was placed kitty corner. He didn't quite bother with the surroundings though, instead he found himself pulling himself over to the nearest window he could, his arm reaching into his left pocket and pulling out a monocular. Wiping a bit of the dust off though he began to peer through into the distance. Indeed what he had seen before was definitely a cargo container, but what he seen now wasn't just that, instead he had seen what was in reality numerous of them stacked around and quarantining off what had seemed to be a building, perhaps a factory or warehouse of some variety used to transport goods and materials. This though, was definitely not something that would have been done before the outbreak. Perhaps someone, or a group of people were staying there. Maybe some infectee's had done it to themselves knowing they couldn't harm anyone if they were locked up, whatever the meaning though it-

He paused for the briefest of moments, a slight growl and moan echoing from the back of the room itself. The moment he turned around, he locked eyes with an undead, one who was just peering out from the kitchen, moments before unleashing a predatory growl and moan, as if it had been happy or excited to have some form of prey for now, the growl of a second one echoing out just behind it.

Oh damn it.

The first one began its charge immediately towards him, the second one just beginning to peer out of the kitchen towards him as well. He didn't have time to grab a weapon or gun it down, he merely acted. His left foot came forward planting itself, his arms came up, his body rotated, and his weight shifted. All in one clean motion he threw his gloved fist out, clocking the incoming zombie straight in the jaw with the loud cracking report of a snapped bone, the undead itself tumbling back and twisting about as it fell and tripped over and ottoman, slamming through a glass top coffee table and into a position not all too easy to get up from. The second one came flying forth as his fist had come back, roughly gripping its arms around him and going for a bite sinking its teeth harmlessly into the leather of his trench coat, the zombie itself not even tall enough to reach anything vulnerable. With a simple shove it had gone stumbling back he though, wasn't done, reaching forward to zombie he gripped onto the collar of its shirt and pulled forward, leading it down and beside him, grabbing onto its belt as he continued it forward, defenestrating the zombies flailing body through the window he had only moments earlier been standing by.

His attention turned roughly to the first zombie which by now was beginning to writhe its way out of the glass coffee table in which it had embedded itself. Without so much as missing a beat he turned around and reached down gripping his arms around the old Tube Television and lifted it up and over his head, the plug itself violently snapping out of the outlet as he turned around and tossed it, the weighty twenty-eight inch tube-television crashing down, completely crushing the wooden frame of the coffee table and the zombie that was underneath in an energetic burst of grey matter and putrid brown blood that quickly began to seat itself within the apartments already horridly stained carpet flooring.

With a few haggard breaths he paused for a moment, allowing the adrenaline to slowly drain out and allow him to think for a moment. As he did this though, he began to here even more moaning and groaning. His attention turned once again as he jammed his head through the now paneless window frame and out into the streets. The zombie he had thrown out, was still alive and groaning about, other zombies from around the area were slowly beginning to emerge and spread out into the open attracted by both the previous noises and the injured zombie.

God damn it.

He turned around once more and went out the fire escape door, peering down into where he had climbed up, down there the groaning and moaning was growing ever a bit louder. Down below a number of zombies were beginning to clamour about in the Alleyway, He counted no less than Seven just from where he stood, some others were evidently beginning to trickle together. If there was one possible instinct he would have hoped zombies wouldn't have carried over from Humans, one possible thing that the zombies wouldn't feel the need to do, it was to group about in pack mentality. Sadly though, it seemed this was asking too much from whatever creator, god, dark lord, or mad scientist who had cooked this all up. Whatever the matter, it was time to leave, and now.

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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#21 Post by Stryder221 »

"Damn, that bandit's heard us...!"
Muttered Varil under his breath as he and Celia hid against the wall, right beside the door and staying low to avoid being detected through the window.
"Why are we hiding? he said he's a soldier, he could help...!"
"They all say they're either a soldier or with the police. It's a trick to get us out of hiding so he gets an easy shot...!"
"Then what do we do?"

Damn good question... thought Varil. nothing came to mind for the blue fox. Except one thing...
And neither of them were going to like it...

"You'll have to distract him."
"Wha...? What do you mean? Why me?"
"Because nobody's going to shoot an innocent kid like you. If you keep his attention off me long enough, I might be able to take him down. I'm sorry, but it might be our only chance..."

Celia hesitated for a moment, then gave a quick nod.
"If it looks bad, call for me, and I'll make my move. Good luck..."

She gave another nod, and stood up and slowly stepped outside, hands out and in plain sight.
"Please... Don't shoot... I'm the only one here... My parents, they... They're..."

The girl had started sobbing as soon as she mentioned her parents. Whether she was faking it or not, it was very convincing.
Celia took one look at the soldier before she rushed at him, crying her eyes out.
"My parents are dead! I've been alone for so long, living off stale bread and bugs! Please help me, the dead people are everywhere! Please don't let them take me!"


Meanwhile inside, Varil had his pistol out, complete with silencer. He was ready to start shooting the instant things went sour.
Oh god, why did I send her out there...? If she gets hurt because of me...
He gripped his Beretta even more tightly. If that guy does something to her, then may god have mercy on his soul...
E͎͖̯̱̻͡r̲͇r͢҉͈͚ò͈̹̰̩̺͓̝̘̟̕r̨̡̺̥̲̰͕̭̬:̵͙̦̟̮̖̯̞́͢ ̴̛̞̙͙̠̲̝̟S̵͎̼̖̜̯͕̺͔̀i̶͉̟̝̻͕̺g̢̤͕n̴͈̩̝͓͖̹͕̟͢a͕̺̱͞ț̸̛͓u̢̥̣̣̰̪ͅr̨̠͙̯̣̣̘̠ḛ̡̨̟̗̥̰̱̻ͅ ̻̮̼̥͕̼͉͎u͏͔̳n͏͔͈̭̭͟a̮͕͖̲͕͙͔ͅv̺̦̼̥̭͙a͏҉̦̺̫̯i̝̙̳̜l̴̡̳̥͠a̢̘̬͈͢ͅb̶̶̦͉͙́ḷ̸̙̙̳̩̥́e͔̪̳̦̫͚̪̹ͅ.͖̠̗͔̖̞ͅ

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Stryder221
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#22 Post by Stryder221 »

"M-my name? It- It's Celia... Celia Vance..."
Varil risked a peek around the corner, seeing that Celia had succeeded in distracting the bandit, at least making him lower his guard.

Now was his chance...
"There's something else... Just, don't hate me for this... It's that I... I... I lied..."
"Don't move! Drop your weapon!"

Varil was right on cue, popping out while the bandit was distracted and pointing a pistol at his head.
"Come here, Celia, you've done enough... Now who are you, really? Are you really with the army, or are you just a bandit playing soldier? Tell me!"

Celia rushed away from the soldier to hide behind the blue fox, who stood just far enough away to prevent losing his gun if this guy got any ideas of taking it.
Damn, his hands were shaking a bit... Army or not, he was dealing with a trained professional...
E͎͖̯̱̻͡r̲͇r͢҉͈͚ò͈̹̰̩̺͓̝̘̟̕r̨̡̺̥̲̰͕̭̬:̵͙̦̟̮̖̯̞́͢ ̴̛̞̙͙̠̲̝̟S̵͎̼̖̜̯͕̺͔̀i̶͉̟̝̻͕̺g̢̤͕n̴͈̩̝͓͖̹͕̟͢a͕̺̱͞ț̸̛͓u̢̥̣̣̰̪ͅr̨̠͙̯̣̣̘̠ḛ̡̨̟̗̥̰̱̻ͅ ̻̮̼̥͕̼͉͎u͏͔̳n͏͔͈̭̭͟a̮͕͖̲͕͙͔ͅv̺̦̼̥̭͙a͏҉̦̺̫̯i̝̙̳̜l̴̡̳̥͠a̢̘̬͈͢ͅb̶̶̦͉͙́ḷ̸̙̙̳̩̥́e͔̪̳̦̫͚̪̹ͅ.͖̠̗͔̖̞ͅ

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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#23 Post by Stryder221 »

"Not one move..."
The fox warned as he knelt down to pick up the card.
Well, everything seemed correct...

Reluctantly, he lowered the pistol.
"Sorry about that... After my last little incident, I must have gone paranoid..."

He pointed to his ear, which was still covered by a bloodstained bandage.
"So... he's really an army man?"

Celia had put the pieces together. Since Varil wasn't aiming at the man anymore, he must really be telling the truth...

Immediately, she began apologizing profusely.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't know! We thought you were... I'm sorry!"

Varil ignored her for the moment, still talking to the soldier.
"I doubt that will work, Arnoldstein's gone to [censored], and the airfield's no better. I should know, I barely got away from there."

"We're going south, to Kobarid, there should be another airfield around there... If you're coming with us, that's fine. If not... I think we can take care of ourselves..."

There was more than a hint of doubt and uncertainty in the fox's voice at that last part.
How was he going to do it, get Celia out of here without help? What if, in the end, he couldn't fly the helicopter he was hoping for? What would they do then?

There was just too much that could go wrong...
E͎͖̯̱̻͡r̲͇r͢҉͈͚ò͈̹̰̩̺͓̝̘̟̕r̨̡̺̥̲̰͕̭̬:̵͙̦̟̮̖̯̞́͢ ̴̛̞̙͙̠̲̝̟S̵͎̼̖̜̯͕̺͔̀i̶͉̟̝̻͕̺g̢̤͕n̴͈̩̝͓͖̹͕̟͢a͕̺̱͞ț̸̛͓u̢̥̣̣̰̪ͅr̨̠͙̯̣̣̘̠ḛ̡̨̟̗̥̰̱̻ͅ ̻̮̼̥͕̼͉͎u͏͔̳n͏͔͈̭̭͟a̮͕͖̲͕͙͔ͅv̺̦̼̥̭͙a͏҉̦̺̫̯i̝̙̳̜l̴̡̳̥͠a̢̘̬͈͢ͅb̶̶̦͉͙́ḷ̸̙̙̳̩̥́e͔̪̳̦̫͚̪̹ͅ.͖̠̗͔̖̞ͅ

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y7h65
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#24 Post by y7h65 »

Pausing, I lifted my head as a loud booming noise echoed out from the town. That was... odd, to say the least. From what I figured there was less than two other survivors in this town and with the amount of Dead that remained in this town, they should be wise enough to keep silent whenever possible. That really left only two options. One was that someone new had drifted in town and was currently in the progress of looting very loudly or one of the remaining survivors were in trouble. In any event, I should probably check it out. If it was a looter it wouldn't take long for them to notice the fortress and if it was someone in trouble then I should help them. It was the right thing to do afterall.

Picking myself off the floor while muttering a quiet apology to the generator for interrupting it's maintenance, I checked to ensure that my gear was snug before running outside to the nearest ladder. With a restrained haste I scaled the ladder, making sure to avoid the loose fourteenth rung in case this was the day it decided to give way. Last thing I wanted to do was drop anything and have to climb back down to retrieve it or worse, break something I could fix such as my scope, the bow section of the crossbow, or myself. After about a half minute of climbing, I managed to make it to the roof. Hearing a loud splintering noise as I made it to the roof, I shouldered my crossbow as I spun around to face the noise, staring through the scope straight down . For a moment, I couldn't see anything before the glint of something reflective caught my eye.

From the looks of things, it seems that another survivor had wandered into town. While I could only catch a glimpse of it as the, what was obviously a male, survivor turned around, I was pretty sure I saw a monocular. That was the thing that caused the glint that I had seen, the sun reflecting off the lens slightly. Of course, I only had a second to process this before one of the dead tumbled into the window. Before I could even sight the beast, the survivor winded back and... well, at a minimum, the man had a hell of a straight if he could stumble one of the dead like that. At a minimum that jacket seemed to be some sort of armor, judging by how he didn't seem to be affected by another of the dead grabbing him and, presumably, biting him. Couldn't spot any damage on the jacket either as the survivor shoved the dead out the window, my scope following the falling body.

I had to admit, the man was somewhat intimidating considering how he was just punching and shoving dead out of his way. Seemed that the survivor was holding himself fine, he wouldn't need my hel... Correction, he was likely to need my help. Judging by the crowd down there, it seemed that the survivor had attracted a sizable amount of the dead in the city. About eleven, counting the ones trickling in. I had to admit, that was among the largest gathering if dead I had seen since the initial rush in the opening days. He was definitely going to need my help now.

Taking my eye of the scope, I made a quite guess. Blocks were about ten meters long, streets were about four, and street signs were about two meters in height. Apartment was about ten blocks away and there should be about eleven streets in between the edge of my fort and the apartment, as well as the fifteen to twenty meter clearance between my fort and the outer wall, which put the apartment at about one hundred and seventy meters away. Well within my range. Looking back at the scope, the survivor seemed to have noticed his dilemma. Guess I didn't have much of a choice in this. I did take on the title of watcher for a reason.

Putting down my crossbow, I stood up and started waving my arms and whistling at the survivor while motioning for them to come closer. While a hundred and seventy was still within my kill range, my crossbow was unloaded and I only carried a single magazine with three backup bolts on my person. I would prefer that all six of those bolts hit and killed a zombie or two. That should even the odds pretty well for the survivor to either get here, somewhere safe, or fight his own way out of.
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#25 Post by MUDPUNISHER »

As I came over a small hill I saw a tall silo before me with a farmhouse and barn as well as a few pieces of equipment, and it appeared the farmer didn't sell the farm, but he sure bought it. A tall zombie with a cowboy hat flannel shirt and jeans was wandering around in front of the barn, slowly sliding the bolt on the ruger back and letting my finger slide to the trigger, bringing it to my shoulder and firing a round into the zombies head, dropping it. Looking around I smiled, noting that the small pop of the gun attracted no attention.

Jogging down hill I slid another round into the clip before replacing it. Looking around I noticed one, very enlightening thing in the barn, the glint of offload lights on a brush guard. Drawing the rifle I slid the door open to reveal a truck with two flats, an open hood missing a spark plug, and no windshield... An easy fix for a redneck. Looking around I spotted an old tractor. If ting its sun faded blue hood I yanked the plug wires off and looked in, the same size plugs as the Toyota. Returning to the barn, constantly looking around, getting a spark plug socket I went back to the tractor and yanked the plug, checking to see if there was gas in the tank, only a gallon but it would do, emptying the gas into a nearby gas can, shaking it thoroughly. Replacing the newish plug and checking for keys I scratched my ears and walked back to the corpse I covered my nose and pulled my hat down, reaching into the pockets on the jeans I pulled out his keys and ran back to the truck, slipping them in the ignition, cranking the key the truck shuddered to life and I left it run, taking a tire iron out from the bed and looking at the tires, wondering where I could find some 6 lugs and how I'd get the truck up, then it hit me, hanging from the undercarriage was a spare, that accounted for one, but not the other, "Where can I find another six lug tire and rim... No, maybe?" Turning I looked at the tractor, if I could get the truck up on blocks I'd be able to put on the tires, but how, it was a small enough truck to use the tractor maybe, but the cinderblocks I'd need weren't around.

Going deeper into the shop I looked around and saw a pile of old bricks probably left over from the house or silo foundation. Moving twelve of them six each side I looked at the tractor, one cylinder out of commission but it might still fire, if I was lucky. Sitting in the seat I poured a liter of fuel back into the tank and twisted the key, pumping the gas, with a sputter the tractor lurched forward and I spun the wheel and dug the forks in the ground ahead of the truck and lifted up and set it on the blocks before backing up and out of the way and using the forks to lift the front end of the tractor up, shutting it off and completely draining the fuel into the can again and shutting off the truck to prevent the clutch from causing it to jump off the blocks. Undoing the pugs with the tire iron I slipped the new tires on the truck and tightened the lugs on before starting it and backing it off, one tire slightly bigger than the others but it'd do for now. Looking at the area where the windshield should be, looking around and not seeing one I scar he'd my head, remembering something we had done back home in the states on a truck with no shield, chain link and rebar, both of which were in here, just needed some bolts. Looking around I found a bucket of random bolts, washers, and nuts. Placing the rebar through the gaps in the chain link I began bolting it down, once done I stepped back and smiled, all I needed was gas, and there was one five gallon Jerry can in the back, pouring the contents in I started the truck and threw my bag I had found in the house next to me I stepped on the clutch and slid into first gear, tearing out of the farm towards korbarid.
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Geo_&_Bio
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#26 Post by Geo_&_Bio »

Wolfgang waved the cigar off; judging from her accent, she is probably British. He expected to be shot at first or not at all, he was a bit thrown off that someone responded like she just did, but he shouldn’t be too surprised. “Alright, alright; I’m not here to hurt nobody.” Not unless you plan on doing something else than a peaceful conversation. “I thought this place was vacant. I didn’t realize someone was still in the building.” He popped out into visible sight, glock in hand a pointed at her, but in a casual way to show that he isn’t ready to drop his guard. He looked at his pseudo-adversary, apparently a husky anthro in a blue shirt with a brown over jacket and jeans pointing a hunting rifle upon him. He wasn’t sure what the rifle was, not yet anyways, but it didn’t seem like the right time to question about guns at the moment. Right now, he must either calm her down or kill her. Or she could kill me, but that’s an option I’d rather not choose. “I apologize if I had scared you, maybe I should have knocked before I entered.” He gave a giggle to lighten the mood a bit.

Elise listened to what the man was saying. A German, must be with that accent. She twitched a little as the human wearing a trenchcoat and a red scarf popped into sight, pointing a pistol at her. But he didn't shoot her, not yet at least, which could mean anything. "You made a lot of noise coming in." As the man cracked a joke and laughed, she loosened up a bit, but still had her rifle pointed at the man, not that it could be pointed anywhere else considering she was sitting on the staircase. "Where did you come from?" As she asked the question, she felt the heavy smell of smoke in the air. "And ugh... did you manage to light yourself on fire while lighting that cigar?"

Wolfgang looked behind him and took a whiff. Smoke, possibly from the fire. All he could do now giggle; turning to the British Husky, he gave his wolfish smile. “You could say that.” He responded her last question first. “As for where I come from, I don’t believe that information is necessary at the moment.” He took a deep breathe with his cigar, and let all the smoke pour out. “However, I do believe there is a common question that deals with the situation at hand. What is it that you are doing here? Is this your home or something?” He inquired, maybe the husky will help his current situation, she has a gun and he has a gun. They might shoot their way out of the island and after that he’ll be able to run back to the family and end this nightmare.
The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.

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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#27 Post by Tyendinaga »

The Unknown Man.
Ukanc, Inner city.

After a moment more of staring the man turned around from the ladder down to the ever growing pile of zombies that sat at the bottom of the fire escape, and turned his attention back into the third story apartment, he needed a way out, and as it was the soft echoing of zombies throwing themselves against the lower levels, and inevitably some way in, was ever present. As sad as it was to say, merely leaving the building wasn't an option. No purpose built entrance nor exit could possibly lead him out in a relatively safe manner. And simply waiting for the zombies to waste away was far from a viable option as he stood inside the piss smelling and cigarette smoke bathed apartment. His attention though soon turned to have him looking out the once broken window, though the presence of the other survivor went unnoticed having not looked back to the fortress since earlier, he did notice something else. A bit of hemming, a ledge of sorts, that seemed to run its way around the building. A slight throw back from the construction of old when form begot function and everything had to look nice. It was a gamble of sorts, and he'd rather not chance the fact of fighting the fifteen or so zombies that were spread over the back and front of the building. The ever present risk of falling existed, but it was the only real one to take.

As if with some deft care he had reached down and began to work the frame of the broken window, slowly sliding it up towards a position where he could crawl through it, or at least he had been, until it suddenly jammed and got stuck half way up. With a tinge of anger though he leaned in a bit, lowering himself as he positioned both his hands under it at the shoulder, and with bent in legs began to pump, the wooden frame squeaking and rising a few inches with each successive push, until nothing. He backed off, with a few slightly strained breaths. If anything, he had managed to perhaps jam the window up a little further, but still not enough room, and now likely jammed much further than was even possible to be pulled down. By now he was beginning to feel a slight bit of quiet frustration. But there was always some law of rule to apply to things in these situations. Some little factoid of bright light.

Lane's Principle: There is no problem that cannot be fixed with simple and suitable application of blunt force.

With a single deep breath he moved forward, his right boot raised up to meet the window sill itself, his hands following soon after to find themselves tightly gripped around the bottom of the frame, soon after his left foot also followed taking placed beside the right. If someone had looked in at this moment in time, they might have thought the behemoth of a man to have gone mad, standing on the edge of a window sill leaned almost parallel to the floor while gripping onto a window frame in a silly attempt to move it, but within this madness there was a method. Soon, he took a squat down, or at least what one could potentially call a squat, and shot himself up. His whole being shook in that instant as his body began to fight against the window frame, the wooden body of it creaking out loud, his ligaments and muscles stretching out as if in faint protest of his actions. He lowered himself once more and shot outwards again, this time the frame seemed to rattle and squeak much more, a slight bit of dust emanating out. Taking a deep breath he lowered himself once again and took a moment to prepare himself. Letting out an almost demonic grunt that seethed with bottled up frustration he fired everything. And in that instant a thunderous crack rang out as splintered wood exploded outwards. The very being that was the windowless frame flew forth along with the man who pulled it, the old wooden restraints of the building having given out.

With a loud thud, he had hit the floor, the windowless frame following and landing on his chest a mere moment after. He had to sit there for a moment, allowing for his breath to settle while staring up on the ceiling. He couldn't stay there forever though, and he knew it. With a slight push the window slid off him and across the floor, stopping beside the puddle of grey matter from before, and with a slight roll he brought himself from his back, to his stomach, a knee, and eventually onto his feet. Back at the window he raised a leg and fed it through, soon finding a foothold along the ledge. With that he brought his other leg through. From where he stood, clinging from the window along the side of the building he offered the ground, and in turn the zombies below, a cursory look. They didn't seem to realise he was just above them, perhaps they weren't quite bright enough to look up. Slowly though, he began to shimmy along the edge, his left arm holding onto the window before as he moved to the next, and he continued this for each successive window in series, knowing full well that if he so much as slipped he could die without issue. In a mere couple minutes he found himself at the corner of the building and looking down. As luck would have it, the next one over was a smaller two story building, as luck wouldn't have it, he was out of windows and there were none on the wall around it to even grab onto if he wished. This was going to be tricky to say the least.

He didn't have much a choice here in what to do.Looking down he simply stepped off, letting go of his handhold, watching as the ledge came up and with his hands, grabbed onto it. He hung there for a few brief moments before bringing his legs up to his chest. Slowly he inched his way around the corner, and though the wall he was turning over onto in particular did not have any windows, it did have more ledge to hold onto. Once on the other side and confident of his position, he peered back over his shoulder. He was less worried about the height of the fall, and more so about the actual distance itself. But there was little choice, turning back towards the wall in front of him he took in breath, and swung his body out. His left arm and leg came loose as he did so, his right ones remaining glued to the ledge and wall, hand and foot respectively, and once out he simply pushed, the spring he called a leg firing and pushing off the wall as he simply let go. And with a thud he hid the concrete roof below, landing foot first into a roll over the shoulder, and onto his knees. From a crap piss smelling apartment to a dangerous climb along a building he had found himself among a sea of industrial, roof equipment, things like vents, air conditioners, and even power transformers. All apparently belonging to, or once belonging, to a guy named Gino who owned a pizzeria, or at least that was what a sign up top was trying to tell him.

Standing to his feet he took few steps off to the side he took the moment to peer off into the streets below, the zombies, though still piled about, seemed to still be somewhat more focused on the defenestrated one than anything else, thank god for that. Though there was still the slight puzzle of what to do. Though he had temporarily escaped the ire of zombies that still stood a mere dozen meters away, there was still the matter of where to head. His eyes turned off to the side for a moment, to a thoroughfare that seemed to head in the rough direction of the docks. Though he was still at least temporarily unknowing of the building out there's sole occupant, it was a good a place as any to investigate. Or at least attempt to sneak up on if they didn't quite know where he was yet. Downwards his eyes turned to the balcony below, there was only one thing to do. With a slight push off he fell, once again, landing softly on the area a mere floor below him. From the balcony he turned to and peered through a large, sliding glass door that lead into the second floor area of the pizzeria. It was actually a fairly nice place.

Taking the door's handle in hand, he gave a sharp pull to the side. It didn't budge an inch. He let out a sigh. Of all the times the owners of a place had to be responsible and lock up their store, this was not the time. Taking a step back he distance himself from the door, and pulling the sling off from where it hung across his chest, gripped onto the rifle it came with and readied it. One hand on the hand guard, and the other on the stock, he reared back and let it rip, what was once a glass filled door becoming little more than a metal frame surrounded by a circle of glass dust. The Zombies from below were beginning to groan and grumble, as if this latest noise had somehow caught their attention. Cursing himself for a moment he pulled the sling back over himself, letting the rifle rest once more on his back as he ducked a bit and walked through the frame, his eyes taking a brief moment to adjust to the relative darkness. The place was dark, there were no lights on, but the sunlight from the windows was roughly enough to keep everything visible enough.

As he took a few more steps inward, he looked around. If he had to guess this was perhaps some sort of loft, perhaps an employee area for taking breaks. Small tables were set out, even an old vending machine sat in the corner, containing various treats and junk foods of dubious at best age. But otherwise save for some chairs, and even a couch, the room itself was somewhat barren. Perhaps anything of value was taken and ran off with when this place was abandoned. Whenever that was at least. Taking a few more steps he found his way over to a stairway, reaching and unclipping and letting the metal chain that had blocked it fall to the floor he took a few steps forward, descending the staircase. At the bottom he found himself in the main body of the shop, admittedly it really wasn't too bad of a place. It was far from the most quality place from the look of it, but it had that slight charm to it, the old Italian one where you had disgruntled men clamouring over a Fifa game while....

He blinked a couple time as a sound echoed throughout the room. A faint...slapping? Turning around on his heel he looked off towards the front of the building, the wholly glass front, the one that now had a single emaciated zombie almost lifelessly slapping against it. Within a few moments another appeared at the front, this one in somewhat better condition, eying the glass for a moment, before itself beginning to wail on it. How many zombies were simply out front again, six, seven? Either way this wasn't looking very good. With a few quiet steps he turned around once more, and circled around the main counter all the while tracing his hand along the siding. Once behind he simply weaved his way through the groupings of stoves and counter tops, towards the back. Once there he came face to face with a blue fire door, you know the kind. The large heavy ones that can only be opened from the inside out, otherwise you couldn't get in. With care he set his hands on the bar and pushed open, slowly poking his head out the door. Within moments a loud groan was heard as something came charging down the alley. Without so much as thinking he merely pulled the door shut, soon a loud banging erupting on the door he had just closed. This was one door he did not have to worry about though.

Weaving back through the kitchen area he found himself behind the main counter once more, peering out, the banging against the glass was getting steadily louder as a whole four zombies had already joined the fray, another one moving up from the street. At this point, one might be tempted to curl up into a ball and cry their eyes out hoping for salvation or perhaps one's mother. But that didn't get anything solved did it? Turning about he quickly scanned over the area, a pizza oven, more counters, a microwave, a microwave oven, a stove, and a toaster. There wasn't really that much to work with to defend himself. He paused a moment. Or was there? A slight light, or perhaps flame, had gone off in his head a soft but wicked smile forming on his face a moment later. As the cacophonous rattling continued on he maneuvered his way through the kitchen, finding himself in front of what was the pizza oven. It was a basic thing, and curiously enough he reached off to the side and twisted a knob. A soft hissing sound emitted from it, a familiar one. Pulling open the oven's grill he then turned around, walking across to a stove across the room he twisted a set of knobs on the front, a soft blue flame opening up across the four burners. That wouldn't do.

Turning once again he took a cursory look towards the front window itself, soft cracks were beginning to spider web up the glass itself. He had to work fast. His feet darted over one another as he dodged around the room with the haste of a man who knew just about everything was on the line. Reaching a refrigerator he pulled it open, little was left inside but a three gallon container of balsamic. Not optimal, but you work with what you have. Gripping onto it he tore it from the fridge, leaving the door open as he walked back to the ovens. Briefly plopping the container on to the floor he darted across the row, hitting the temperature gauges on each he passed, all but a few opening up with soft blue flames. Once back he reached down to the three gallon container and tore the cap right off it, the glass panels of the front, audibly beginning to give away as undead threw themselves through it. Undeterred he simply picked up his container and held it upside down, running across the length of gas appliances with each of the blue flames turning into a soft bubbling as gas escaped. He had little time left now though. Turning back he ran for it, and jumped, his body sliding across the main counter, feet landing on the other side, the zombies groans growing ever louder as they tumbled through the restaurant, stumbling as they navigated through the lake of tipped over chairs and flipped tables.

God Dammit.

Reaching off to the side one last moment, he grabbed a singular, metallic, box of napkins and bolted, His feet clapping noisily as he ascended the stairway up to the second floor again. He had little time to waste left as he fiddled through his pocket, producing a nickle zippo lighter in the process. He carried himself to the very end of the room, stopping for moments as he opened the lighter up and flipped the ignitor. Nothing. He groaned audibly in anger as he continued to flick it down, slight sparks erupting but nothing concrete. Of all the times it could have chosen to not work now was not a fun one. With a final flick though, a bronze flame erupted from the metallic sheath, along with a relieved breath from himself. The zombies though, were evidently and noisily making their way towards the staircase. He merely opened up the napkin case a bit, and put the lighter under it, in mere moments the box of napkins was a box of large yellow flames. After letting it sit for a moment, in his gloved hand he raised it up and with a heavy toss, grenaded it down the stairway, the object bouncing off the wall, and bouncing down the stairs with cacophonous clangs and claps with each step, landing at the base of the counter, the zombies, temporarily distracted.

The moment he did that, the man's gloved hands had found their way to cover over his ears, and his feet had found their way quickly taking him through the sliding door's empty frame, and out into the balcony, where he crouched down and took cover behind the wall. And then there was nothing. He blinked for a few moments wondering to himself. Was it simply not enough? Did the gas run out? Did it burn out? What's for lunch? Am I going to die? He kept waiting though, for what seemed like an eternity, pulling a hand off one of his ears in the process as if trying to listen for something. In reality, the flames were still burning, in fact they had spread, slowly engulfing the counter in all its wooden flammable glory. And there, there was a bang, like nothing he had ever heard before. From down within a flame ruptured out, the glass front completely shattered, and an ocean of flame flooded through the building, out the front windows, torching the insides, blowing the back door off its hinges, and even flooding up the stairs with enough pressure to completely shatter the rest of the sliding glass window he had been mere feet from him, the building itself creaked and crumbled under the force unleashed. And all that man had to show for it, was a constant ringing within his left ear. The hearing wasn't quite gone though, but everything was distorted beyond reason. This wasn't permanent, only for a few hours.

Slowly and shakily he rose to his feet and peered inside the building. The smell of charred corpses was fairly strong. Inside what was once the employee lounge, the back wall was...gone, partially collapsed under the weight of an unsupported building, the roof just above having collapsed down somewhat as well, leaving only a part of the room intact. It was almost surreal as he stumbled forward, wandering across the room. As he approached the stairwell, he could tell that a soft soot remained at the bottom, scorch marks having eaten up and through parts of the paintwork itself. With each cautious step he took down that stairwell, more of the carnage below came into view, smoke was still billowing out of some parts, a soft fire was already beginning to eat at parts of the kitchen that had survived. The front counter itself had been ejected, across the front of the room, the tables and chairs that littered the customer area were simply gone, some having jettisoned through what was left of the front window. Whole patches of floor and walling had been torn up, the kitchen was a crater in the middle with charred metal appliances mashed against the walls, the rear wall where the security wall had been, as well as part of the left hand wall had been completely blown out, chunks of poorly set concrete construction having given away for a force far more powerful that it was ever designed to withstand.

He almost stood in awe at what he had done, what was required to survive, and the intricacies of what happens when someone inevitably fails basic common sense in a cooking area. He had to wonder how many zombies had died in that, six, seven maybe, perhaps eight. He was slightly puzzled for a moment. By his own estimate he might have failed to kill a few. He groaned slightly, his head aching deeply from that. Turning around, he was about to head out the exit when a familiar groaning chimed in from the back, several zombies beginning to peer in through what wasn't left of the rear wall areas. It seemed that a bunch of the zombies from the rear alleyway he had attracted, had indeed survived. It only took the two that popped in there a mere moment to notice him, and let out animalistic growls as they began to take off into a sprint towards him, another two or three popping into view behind them.

By god, one would think he had the worst luck in the world by this point.

He turned on his heels and into a run as well, his body emerging from the smoke billowing building at full speed as he scrambled through the street, a group of zombies running in tow on his heels. Turning away from the building he darted down the street, and towards another, turning a right onto a street that took him down straight somewhat off the way towards the docks, and in turn, without his knowing, Grigori's position. From that he merely ran as fast as he could, he wasn't looking back, the only evidence was the soft patter and the crazed screeches of the small group of zombies who ran after him. His eyes darted about, searching for everything, and anything he could possibly use. Soon the street came to an end, a small pileup of vehicles littering the most direct way, he stopped, his boots sliding across the tarmac ground beneath him as he turned and took off into a further sprint, the zombies following soon after. He searched around more, an alleyway. He tore off into the left side, sliding across the hood of one in a pair of parked cars, he dodged out, into the alleyway, the zombies dodging around the car, one of them flopping over it and onto its face. At the end he made a right turn, running down the length of the block. By now he had no idea how many or even if the zombies were still behind him. The sound of his own breathing and his feet splashing through the puddles that littered the ground effectively deafened him.

He made another tight left, pushing off a brick wall as he about slammed into it, and kept moving, off into yet another street.. Taking a brief moment he looked over his shoulder back behind him. They were trailing behind him, but far from lost. Within mere moments the end of yet another street came, and this time, he turned left. But this particular left had sent him heading east, towards the lake. It was straight, it was clear, one hundred and fifteen meters of sheer tarmac separated him, from the familiar sight of a wall of cargo containers in the distance. He took another peek back, the four zombies that managed to keep up this far were just turning the corner. And yet in front of him was that building, and the lake behind it, gleaming brightly in the morning sunlight. He had to wonder, could zombies swim? He would soon find out.

That was, if he could make the run.

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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#28 Post by y7h65 »

Grigori
Ukanc, The Gates

Rubbing the spots out of my eyes, I took a mental step back as I tried to figure out what the hell just happened. First of all it seems like the survivor couldn't see me at this distance. That was understandable, sun was probably slightly behind me, I was far away, he didn't have time to use his monocular, etc etc. What wasn't understandable was his choice to jump from the edge of the building to the roof of Gino's. I mean, yes there's probably no other way out of the building but the survivor could have easily barricaded the inside of that building! There was a certain extent to which you could or should take risks and that was really skirting the line! Of course, jumping of a roof wasn't the end of the stupidity. Evidently, escaping from a group of zombies wasn't enough for the guy so he slipped off the roof to do something.

It was at this point I lost track of him. I wasn't entirely sure what he was doing or why he was doing it but judging by how much the dead wanted to break into the pizzeria, it must have drawn their attention. Not entirely sure why he didn't go out the back exit but my guess was that it has something to do with the amount of dead. In any event, it was shortly after they broke through did a massive flash consume the front of the building. While I happened to be looking at it too. From the boom I heard, my guess was that he detonated some sort of explosive device. Brings up the question of what exactly the man was doing with something apparently strong enough to level the front of a building but that can be asked laster.

As my sight finally returned, I let out a sigh of relief. I'd be damned if that didn't come back. Picking up my Crossbow, I took a glance at the smoldering wreck of the building just in time to see the survivor bolting out of the building. With about four of the dead on his tail. I let my reactions kick in as I pulled out the magazine at my hips and slid it into the feed of the crossbow, the quiet click of the magazine locking in place bringing a frown to my face. I don't know about the rest of my fellow survivors but killing even one of the dead sickened me. I buried the feeling with the training the army had given me but as I worked the lever, a loud 'cuthunk' echoed out as a bolt was loaded and the bow tensed itself as far back as it could, I couldn't help but think of what the dead that I was about to kill used to be. Where they someone I knew? Did they have a family? Were they even from here? Or was someone out there crying and waiting for their return, one that will, thankfully, never come to fruition because of my actions? While such feelings were not necessary in this day and age, I suppose that the fact these feelings were still here a good sign. Meant I hadn't lost it yet. Kept me from just turning into a killer or snapping and losing it.

With a melancholic sigh I brought the Crossbow to fore, following the survivor as he dashed from the street to street. Chuckling as he lost one of his pursuers to a stationary car. If that was any boon for the rest of us, the dead were moronic in their chasing pattern. Still, I can't find a window to fire. He was moving too rapidly from side to side and causing the zombies to do the same. Not to mention, he jumped into streets that put him and the crowd out of sight. Hell, I was about to give up and call it a loss when he seemed to decide to book it for the docks. First smart thing the man's seem to done since I started tracking him. Got the dead to start running in a straight line as well.

With that, I took aim at the front most dead through the scope. The crossbow wasn't meant for sniping a moving target but the street leading down here was filled with obstacles that would slow down nothing that would stop a human but some obvious potholes littered the street. As I thought, the survivor managed to avoid one of them while the dead behind him tripped up and fell, quickly followed by the other two pursuers as they fell over the writhing body of their vanguard. It was almost funny to watch the three writhing and squirming in an attempt to get up only for the attempt to be fouled by one of the other dead trying to do the same in a circle of stupidity. Of course, they were still mad animals and it was my duty to put them down.

Shouldering the crossbow and taking aim at the dead that was at the top of the pile, I whispered a soft prayer before giving the trigger a gentle squeeze. With a crack of thunder, the Crossbow roared as it sent out it's bolt at the target faster than the eye could follow. One moment, the top most dead was squirming. The next moment it laid on top of the pile, finally put to rest as the bolt smashed through the skull and exploded out the back. For a second a voice asked a question on who that may had once been, only to be quashed as I steeled my will and mind. These were no longer living sentient beings. With my heart steeled and my mind prepared, I worked the lever and fired two more times with each shot ringing out and putting down another member of the dead.

Ejecting the magazine, I placed the empty magazine into it's carrier before turning my attention to the survivor. "Hey! You there in the coat!" I yelled just loud enough to be heard by the man. "Mind getting me my bolts back? Zombies following you are dead but I only have a finite amount of ammo. It'd be great if you get those for me. Or you can leave. Wouldn't blame you for it." I paused as I shrugged. I really couldn't blame him, I mean there wasn't really that much in this town aside from me anyways and I wasn't leaving this town yet anyways. If you're going to get me back my bolts, come around back to the fortified berth. You're going to have to swim, I'm afraid. Knock on the door twice, pause, and knock two more times and I'll answer."
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Twokindsofawsome
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#29 Post by Twokindsofawsome »

(pardon my lack Of coloring the speech. I will fix it ASAP.)

Luka continued on walking down the lonely road. He had switched over to another tune as he walked. It was a Russian song he had heard a soldier singing. He knew what exactly it meant, but he was in the disguise of a Russian soldier. Might as well "go native". He sang to the rhythm as he walked. "Солдатушки, бравы ребятушки, 
А кто ваши деды? 
- Наши деды - славные победы, 
Вот где наши деды!" it was a Russian soldier song entitled soldatushki. He walked along singing in it and he honestly felt like an honest to god Russian soldier. He sing their song and wore their uniform. As he sang he looked around vigilantly for any survivors he could possibly help. Given the circumstances of the world, he felt it necessary to help anyone he could. It just felt like the right thing to do. That being said though, he would not hesitate to kill a man if they fired upon him. Such as he was taught when he was an officer of the law. However, in other people's eyes he was a Russian soldier. He even had a nice backstory to go with it. Once the out break happened he woke to did everyone else undead at his base. He had to kill his own undead comrades to get out. The whole backstory, disguise, fluent Russian, and flawless accent made it all the more convincing. " Солдатушки, бравы ребятушки, 
А кто ваши отцы? 
- Наши отцы - русски полководцы, 
Вот где наши отцы!"

(if you want to know what the song sounds like, it's the song Bourbon sings while going to the secret tunnel out of Riga station in Metro 2033.)

Meanwhile Julia was walking in the foliage along the side of the road. She had by now passed Podbrdo and was nearing Sorica. She carried her rifle at the ready, not aiming it but keeping it out, loaded, and ready to fire. As she approached the town she put her guard up more, on the lookout for anyone. And alas, there was someone. She saw a figure standing outside a house. Too rigid to be a zombie and he wasnt shambling about. She raised her rifle and looked through the scope. Upon doing so she found it was indeed a survivor, and a police officer at that. She loved the prospect of some high value police loot. She crouched and worked on centering the crosshairs on the man. When she believed to be on target she pulled the trigger and fired. The bullet hit the wall of the building he was standing near. She cursed and said, "dammit! Took a hasty shot..." she quickly went prone and hoped he would not see her. The grass in front of her face made it hard for her to see him, so she really couldn't get another shot on him. She decided to wait to fire again,as to see if she would be spotted. She began crawling backwards, trying to try and get behind a bush that was a few feet behind her. 
A friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome… To Night Vale." ~ Ciesel Palmer

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MrFlyingAmoeba
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Re: Outbreak Alpha (IC)

#30 Post by MrFlyingAmoeba »

Kathy and Kristoff, Ribcev Laz

Having gathered a few things, Kathy peeked out the reopened door to her safehouse. She had already checked through the windows, but it was good to be as safe as you be in these times. Zombies weren't much of a threat in Ribcev Laz. Most of the people here had fled west to the coast, and there hadn't been very many around even before this mess. Ukanc had been abandoned, leaving just that one woman. What was her name? Stanna? Stanna Aravel? No, that couldn't be right. Aravels were those things in that one video game she played a while ago.

Kathy shook her head, dismissing her train of thought. Actually, where does the train go? Does it just stall until I need it again, or does it turn into train-dust? Probably-no, no! Focus! Focusing! Zombies, maybe murderers and morons around! Focus focus focus, foci, loci, lotus? Ack! Focus!

"I think it's safe now." She said, stepping out into the alley. One good thing about having your mind starting to tear itself to pieces (At least in her case), you got really good at multitasking. "I should install bells around town so I can distract the zombies."

"That's not a bad idea." Kris commented, drawing his pistol and flipping the safety off, just in case. "Would certainly come in handy if you were going scavenging."

This particular safe-house having been on the outskirts of town made it easier to leave unnoticed. What few zombies Kathy saw were far off in the distance, and did not pick up on their presence. Now that they were on the road, metaphorically speaking, since nobody in their right mind would travel on such an exposed path unless the surrounding area was just as barren, she could indulge the voices of curiosity.

"So how did you get here? Boat or plane, but I mean here here." She waved at the island around them, making sure to keep an eye out for traps on the ground as well as suspicious figures. Could you be not suspicious? Maybe it was better to just say 'figures'.

"Plane. My friend wanted to take a boat back, but that was before, well," Kris waved his free hand around the area, "This happened. Admittedly, taking a boat out of here now would likely be the best and safest bet. It's more likely that there's a working boat around than a working helicopter or plane." He paused, looking to the left as small sound attracted his attention. His eyes caught movement, but it was just a squirrel. "Heh. The apocalypse doesn't seem to have affected the wildlife much."

"There won't be any boats left. None bigger than those made for a few people, anyway. People took all the good ones, that's why there's still so many humans around here. I should know. Got left behind, I did. Or did I volunteer? It's hard to remember, and I suppose it doesn't matter." She sounded quite casual for such a situation.

"I must have been really eager to volunteer if I tied myself to a bed and had them take all my things. Wish I hadn't hit myself on the head, though. Did you volunteer to let your friend go too? I bet you did."

Kris stopped walking for a moment, staring at the woman in disbelief. She really is crazy. Shaking his head, he began walking again. "My friend was an idiot." He frowned, continuing. "Got himself bitten maybe a day or two after this fiasco started."

"Well, if our visit with...Stephanie, ha, got the name, works out, I might be able to get us a bit of protection. Interesting person, I hope she remembers me. She's too crazy to have gotten herself bitten. Before you came, there were all these distant banging noises coming from Ukanc. Didn't sound like guns or explosions, but I couldn't go to check until the zombies that the noise attracted went away."

"Well, in cases like this either everyone's crazy or no one's crazy." Kris mumbled, glancing behind them in case they had been followed. "So who's Stephanie, aside from the person we're going to see?"

"Woman, around my age, pale hair, lavender? I think it's lavender eyes, used to ride a bike to Ribcev when she visited," Kathy ticked off what she remembered on her fingers. "Nice enough from the few times we talked, I think she was some kind of construction worker or engineer. People would hire her to build things around town. My team was going to hire her to help construct a more formal lab before the zombies arrived. Heard she usually wanted food or equipment for her work, so I'm hoping she has the things I need."

"Huh. Interesting. What is it you need, anyways?" Kris narrowed his eyes at a wrecked vehicle ahead of them, a sedan plowed into a tree. Shattered windshield indicated the unlikeliness of anyone having survived. "Shame. People need to learn to drive without panicking."

"Chemical glassware, mostly. Trying to make a vaccine. Cure's too complicated, window of time to administer too narrow. Vaccine's simpler. Prevention always easier than cleanup." She rattled off, far more lucid and structured than usual. "These zombies are...well, not really like zombies you'd think about. Their blood still moves, sometimes, since their heart is going." She hadn't spared a glance for the wreck. The sedan had been uninteresting. Old news, she'd investigated it before. One dried up corpse, no food, no water. Should've told Kris. Oh well.

"At least, I think it is. Hard to get an active one without attracting attention. Stephanie might be able to help me with that, too." She tapped her chin, thinking. "Another good reason for having you with me. Get more zombies, extract more samples, more vivisections, or dissections, not sure, get a rudimentary vaccine. Can't bet on people being immune, haven't seen anyone get bitten and survive, although I've heard about it. Not eager to test it on myself. I haven't heard any good news from the outside, and I'd go-" She paused for the briefest moment. "Go upset if I sat around doing nothing."

Kris nodded along as she spoke, occasionally looking around the area they were traversing. "Immunity is a strange thing, and unfortunately a rare occurrence with any disease. Sometimes immunity to a disease can be caused by a different disease, sometimes it's genetic." He was thinking out loud, quite sure that Kathy already knew all this. "Making a vaccine is a noble goal, at least." He patted her back reassuringly.

"I don't think so. I have the time, and it would keep me alive. Even if it's going to be free, it's really just me being selfish." One could imagine an audible snap as she returned to her usual state, stern eyes fading and voice losing its measured cadence. "So, I'm hoping that she can help us. I like my higher thoughts, even if they don't always listen to me."

"So long as she doesn't try to kill us, I'll be happy." He chuckled, redirecting his attention to the path ahead. "Getting shot at isn't much fun, after all."

Kathy opened her mouth to respond, before a distant noise drew her attention. It was a dull, almost popping sound, but she had heard a few before and knew what it meant. "That's coming from Ukanc. The zombies behind us will be going that way. We should try to get there first."

"An explosion? Interesting." Kris shifted his backpack slightly, picking up his pace. "Double-time, then."
Red Mage Statscoski wrote:That is not how we do things around here, buddy. First we have to argue incessantly over semantics.

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