Turn 2: Fun fact, your hair comes off before your head.
Archangel
Zedekiah used Curse! Zedekiah has lost 2 pp from the move “Work Slide!”
Zedekiah needed to know what he was fighting. They seemed to be human, at least at one time. However, their clothes were in tatters, and they both had grievous injuries (other than the ones afflicted by himself). He also noticed that the one he had punched was still moving. Stone resigned to finish her off. Continently, she had an easily graspable ponytail. Zedekiah grabbed the hair with one hand and a shoulder with the other; he pulled. The hair came off in his hand while blood started flowing from her scalp (noticing it, there was blood everywhere. Damn). He grabbed the creature’s head again and removed it properly.
Stone left the bodies in the bedroom and stood up. He heard three quick gunshots, followed by two more. They sounded about middling distance away, although he wasn’t sure of anything more than the general direction. He got all of his supplies together on his kitchen table, then thought about what his next course of action.
Current time: 0645
Flintus
“Guess I’ll keep going.” Har-El kept going. He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could, listening all the way. He climbed another floor, he was between the fifth and sixth floors now, the screams were apparently on the top floor (figures). Rozen heard a yell and a very loud crack. It sounded a lot like broken bones, actually. He sped up a bit. “Only a few stair to go now.”
Rozen suddenly heard foot steps behind him, coming up pretty quickly. He considered hiding, but that wasn’t much of an option in an enclosed stairwell. A relatively young chap was coming up from below, he was wearing sweatpants and a gray t-shirt. More importantly though, he was carrying a firearm. Rozen’s keen eye recognized it as a Glock 17, and the youth looked like he could use it. Rozen looked at him, he looked at Rozen. Rozen said, “I’ll lead.”
Har-El wasn’t the happiest about having someone he didn’t know behind him, but he realized that the one without the gun should go first. They both moved quickly, Har-El guessed that his partner’s earlier stomping would have killed stealth off anyway. They ascended the final stairs and got to the sixth floor.
It wasn’t hard to find to appartment they were looking for, the door had been bashed down. There was a loud shout underneath the screaming. The two closed with the door. The screaming abruptly cut out, replaced by a horrifying gurgle. Har-El got to the far side of the door, the gunman stood by at the other.
Rozen raised his hand with one finger. He moved up a second. Three. Rozen burst through the doorway and encountered a terrifying scene. There were four figures. Two further away, and two closer. He focused on the nearer pair. Two bodies were lying on top of each other, it looked like the guy on the bottom was desperately keeping the other’s head away. The bottom combatant let out a cry for help.
Har-El dashed in and grabbed the attacker’s shoulder, while Rozen himself started to roll. He felt flesh come off in his hand? By God’s name?! Har-El and the thing rolled; he brought his knife across the thing’s throat, as he intended, and felt a spray of blood. He disengaged himself and rolled away.
The man he had saved shouted, “NO! WAIT!” and dove at the body. He was holding a pretty big knife and brought it viciously down into the thing’s eye socket. It thrashed, then went still.
Rozen looked up to see another person stumbling towards him. The gunman, standing in the doorway, shouted, “STOP!” then opened fire. It was a three round burst, and Har-El saw blood fly out of the standing person’s chest. It stopped, then started moving towards the gunman. What the hell?
Two more shots rang out, and Har-El watched the back of its head explode. Brain, blood, and bone spattered the back wall. The three survivors slowly got up.
Rozen found himself in the living room of an apartment not unlike his own. Blood was everywhere (including on himself). There was the body of a middle aged girl on the back wall, her throat had been ripped out. Blood still spurted weakly from the gaping hole. The second body was lying at his feet, it had been a relatively old man. His throat had a slash through it from Rozen’s knife, and his eye had been stabbed out by the guy on the floor, who had removed the dagger. The final body in the space between Rozen and the gunman (still standing roughly in the doorway). It was pretty badly beaten up, the biggest wound (obviously) was the bullet wound to the head, Gunman’s pistol had blown away most of the back of the skull. Besides that, there were large chunks of leg missing (who had done that?), a nasty looking scratch on the lower abdomen, and three center-mass bullet holes. What the fuck just happened?
Rozen has found a survivor!
Gunman
Armor: Plainclothes (sweatpants and t-shirt)
Barefooted
Weapon: Glock 17
Rozen has found a survivor!
Dagger dude
Armor: Plainclothes (black shirt and sweatpants)
Cross trainers
Weapon: Large Dagger (6 inch blade)
Current Time: 0630
Humaan
The lobby of Extrech (his company) was unoccupied. A quick glance at the receptionist’s computer confirmed that the power was out in the building. Aaron found the front door (big glass affairs, something he had argued against, the bloody things had been damned expensive, and not that strong) without much trouble. The outside streetlights were still on, and they provided enough light through the windows and doors. The security system was off (although Aaron did have a key to bypass it). Must be the power? He pushed the bar and went outside.
Once again, the lack of cars on the road creeped him out, as did the people. Why were people walking around a commercial district this time of the day? He counted about seven in the area, standing still or walking alone. They weren’t moving with much purpose.
He looked down. He was standing in a pool of blood. His heart started beating faster. There was blood all over the area. Smears and droplets. A fair bit had pooled where he was standing . . .
Kagus
Owen got up and retrieved his gun. He wasn’t going to let violence fester. He heard a loud crack and decided to act. He got up, left, and quickly moved to the stairwell. The screaming continued. He climbed to the fifth floor. It sounded like it was from the sixth. He got halfway up the staircase when he met a Middle-Eastern looking guy. He looked middle-aged, but toned. His eyes looked like a soldier’s. The Middle-Easterner had a small knife but nothing else. However, he had something to say, in slightly accented English, “I’ll lead.”
Owen decided that it was better to have him in front rather than behind, so he made no argument. The two quickly climbed the last stairs to the sixth floor. There was one door that had apparently been broken down. The screaming was replaced by a horrible gurgle. Owen felt his heart in his ears, and his adrenaline pumping. The Middle-easterner went to the further side of the door, and held up a finger.
1.
2.
3!
Owen was in second, surveying a terrifying scene. His aquaintence was moving and grabbing someone who was on the floor, on top of someone else. He rolled around for a second. Blood sprayed from a throat wound.
Owen’s eyes were drawn by another figure getting up. It was by the back wall, standing over another body. Owen saw that the figure was covered in blood, and the body was missing it’s throat. Owen saw red. The figure started moving towards the Middle-Easterner. Owen shouted, “STOP!” Before he was even done with the shout, he was in a parallel stance (strange, a part of him remarked, he usually preferred Weber), and shooting. Just like he was trained to, Owen put a three round burst into the figure’s center mass. It stopped. And stood there? It turned and started moving towards the stunned soldier. Owen brought his gun hand up and fired twice more. Thank God for training.
(Strife’s note: even if one has been shot mortally with a handgun, one still has at least 30 seconds of effective life left, it’s normal procedure to switch to a headshot if a target still moves after mass shots)
The back wall of the room was spattered with blood, bone, and brain. The figure went down.
Owen found himself in the living room of an apartment not unlike his own. Blood was everywhere (although only a small bit on himself). There was the body of a middle aged girl on the back wall, her throat had been ripped out. Blood still spurted weakly from the gapping hole. The second body was lying at his partner‘s feet (the Middle Easterner had gotten up at some point in time), it had been a relatively old man. His throat had a slash through it from the ME’s knife, and a big ass dagger was through the eye socket, being removed by another guy (who must have been on the floor fighting the old man). The final body in the space between Owen and the other two. It was pretty badly beaten up, the biggest wound (obviously) was the bullet wound to the head, his pistol had blown away most of the back of the skull. Besides that, there were large chunks of leg missing (who had done that?), a nasty looking scratch on the lower abdomen, and three center-mass bullet holes. What the fuck just happened?
Owen found a survivor!
Middle Easterner
Armor: Plainclothes (kahki pants and polo)
Tennis Shoes
Small knife
Owen found a survivor!
Guy in black
Armor Plainclothes (black sweatpants and t-shirt)
Cross-trainers
Large dagger
Current time: 0630
Little
Rachel returned to the apartment and gave her sweetie a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, but we’re all getting a bit on edge.”
He had gotten through a few pages of residential, but half had gotten back voicemails or nothing and the other half *couldn’t be completed as dialed.* They decided to check the other floors.
However, before they went, her boyfriend, on a surprisingly smart hunch, went to the broom closet and got himself a wooden broom. He took the head off and hefted the weapon. “It works as a staff, I guess. I’ll go first.”
The apartment was pretty old fashioned. The stairs were spiralish and open. The pair crept down a level. On the end of the hallway, they saw a figure standing. It was hunched over and staring into space. It didn’t look like another human. It hadn’t noticed them yet. Her boyfriend whispered “What do we want to do? I’m not sure we want to be loud . . .”
Current time: 0630
Luke
Ohcrapzombiesohcrapzombiesohcrapzombies!!!!! He wouldn’t be able to reach the zombie before it reached the girl. In what was either generous or really stupid, his right foot reached out, and Luke round housed a zombie. The surprisingly hard kick connected with about the sternum area. There was a very loud (even over the screaming) crack of breaking bones. Which didn’t really do much to the zombie. It did, however, turn from the girl to Luke.
“This is it,” he thought. The two faced off for a second. Luke tried to swing his knife around and slam it into the side of the zombie’s head, and it hit. However, piercing skull with a knife isn’t easy, and it deflected away, although it took a large chunk of skin with it. Blood started flowing, and Luke could see bone. Then the zombie ran into him and the fight went to the floor.
Luke wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but the zombie was on top of him, blood flowing in a sheet from the head wound. Somehow, Luke had gotten his knife up in time. The zombie’s throat was on the neck of his blade. He was pushing with both of his arms (one hand on either side of his knife), trying to keep the zombie’s slavering jaws away from his face. He released a ‘grah’ of frustration. Was this the end?
Suddenly, the zombie was off of him, moving to his right. What the hell? He got a glimpse of kahki colored pants, as someone must have pulled the zombie off of him, saving his life. His savior had also cut the zombie’s throat and was lying nearby, unaware that he hadn’t finished the zed off. “NO! Wait!”
Luke got to his knees, raised his dagger, and slammed it into the undead’s eye before it could attack the other man. Luke pulled the dagger out with some difficulty. He was interrupted by three gunshots. He looked up in time to see a figure in the doorway shooting at the other zombie. And in time to watch a headshot blow away the back half of the zombie’s head and spatter the back hallway with blood, bone, and brain.
Luke found himself in the living room of an apartment not unlike his own. Blood was everywhere (his face and upper body were close to drenched). There was the body of a middle aged girl on the back wall, her throat had been ripped out. Blood still spurted weakly from the gapping hole. The second body was lying at his feet, it had been a relatively old man. His throat had a slash through it from the other guy’s knife, and the eye socket was a bloody hole. The final body was in the space between Luke and the gunman. It was pretty badly beaten up, the biggest wound (obviously) was the bullet wound to the head. Besides that, there were large chunks of leg missing (who had done that?), a nasty looking scratch on the lower abdomen, and three center-mass bullet holes. What. The. Fuck.
Luke has found a survivor!
Savior guy
Armor: Plainclothes (khaki pants and polo shit)
Tennis Shoes
Weapon: Small fixed blade knife
Luke has found a survivor!
Gunman
Armor: Plainclothes (sweatpants and t-shirt)
Barefooted
Weapon: Handgun
Current time: 0630
Mission
The pickup thundered to life and they were off. Mission and his father looked around, unable to see any zombies. Mother drove them to the entrance of the base. It was surprisingly durable for a base in a Midwestern city. There were hedgehogs in several areas (forcing vehicles to slow down and go around). The checkpoint was a double sided affair, with cheerfully orange stopping arms. The out-side one was chained into the up position. The in-side one was down. There was a relatively open building, where the guards had stood when Mission had been here before. It was deserted now.
There were a dozen or so buildings that Mission could see from the gate, ranging in size from tiny to hangars. Then, on the roof of one of the closest buildings, a figure stood up and started frantically waving his arms. Mission pointed him (?) out to his father . . .
Current time: 0630
RAM
She was still in a suburbanish neighborhood where she felt comfortable, so she stopped the car, turned it off, and got out. Strange how no one else was around. Mary walked to the front door of the nearest house and rang the doorbell. She could barely hear it outside, but it was there.
GROAN. Surprised, Mary jumped a little. Looking over, there was someone in the bushes next to her! It was a little girl lying there somewhat awkwardly . . .
Current time: 0630
Tack
Tacken spent his normal two hours chopping wood. He got enough for the day, plus some extra. His muscles were tired, but it was the good kind, you know? It was mostly birch, with some oak, from the forest he owned. He was feeling kind of hungry, come to think of it.
Current time: 0830
Talking, it's a free action.
Some have you have found other survivors. When you meet with another person who isn't obviously undead, you'll get this message at the end of your turn:
You found a survivor!
Trenchcoated kid
Armor: Heavy coat, cargo pants
Combat boots
Weapon: .22 Long rifle; Scoped rifle, shotgun (pump)
I recommend that you talk to them. You can either PM me or post (in a bloody spoiler!) what you'd like to say, then I'll rig up a response. For starters, ask them their names. Put any survivors you're with in a separate part of your current status sheet, with the heading Allies. Remember that these are people too, they might want to talk with you (and I might start off b conversation by them). They have their own goals (see if a loved on is alright, survive, kill zombies, or ritualistically kill themselves (or maybe you, heh heh heh)) and will try to carry them out. They won't listen to you unquestioningly, and may try to give you orders. Okay?
Inventory sheets
Unless you're doing specific searches, I'm usually pretty vague in what I tell you about. When one is smashing heads with a cricket bat, it's tough to notice stuff, no? If I mentioned that you got your gear together, then you can claim all the stuff you mentioned as being in your base. I highly recommend that you have it listed in your status as a supply dump somewhere. Or else you may end up going into combat while juggling all of your goodies. Which isn't good. If you want to add something from your dump to your on hand stuff, just change it on the status sheet (for example, moving the lighter from the supply dump to the your pockets). I do read the status updates to make sure everything is okay.
Both of these have been moved to an earlier post, as well as the harassment guidelines.
Author
Topic: It's been a while since our last little . . . zombie apocalypse. (Read 13967 times)