Author Topic: Resident Evil, Survive the City
Anime_Fan 
Registered: Apr '05
45275_Ferus Olin
Date Posted: 5/3 8:03am Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City - Date Edited: 5/3 8:09am (1 edits total) Edited By: Anime_Fan
Zachary Byrd
Gym

Zack smiled brightly as he held his client's feet together, while she attempted to finish her round of sit-ups. "Just five more and your done. I know you can do it Lucy." As she came up and went back down, a soft smile tugged at her lips. "You said that ten sit-ups ago Zack." Zack laughed, patting the side of her leg.

"I mean it this time." With a sigh she continued her exercise, closing her eyes. Zack smiled as he counted her progress. "Hey Zack, I need your help putting all these weights back." Zack turned to one of his co-workers, nodding lightly before turning back to Lucy. "That's five. Come on." He hopped up, extending his hand down to her. She took it, letting him pull her up. "Thanks."

Zack grinned, walking with her to get a water bottle. "Your doing great Lucy. Tomorrow we're going to start hitting the bicycle okay." Lucy smiled, taking a swig of water before patting Zack's shoulder as he lifted up her gym bag. "How'd I get a sweet guy like you as my trainer Zack?" Zack chuckled, running his fingers along the spikes of his hair.

"Dunno. But aren't ya glad you did?" Lucy laughed, turning to head to the exit. "See you tomorrow." Zack watched her leave before jogging over to another side of the gym. He smiled at his co-worker. "Still need help?" A grunt was his response and Zack shrugged softly, before moving to pick up the weights. He worked quickly, placing them back on their respected shelves. "Zachary!" He jumped lightly, turning around.

"Yes!" The manager walked over, a slightly bewildered look on his face. "Your shift was over an hour ago." Zack rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah I know, but Lucy needed an emergency training session. She wasn't able to make it yesterday or on time today. She called if I could stay later and I said yes." The manager made a face before smiling. "Way to work overtime. Now go home!"

"Alright already!" Zack quickly jogged to the locker room, grabbing his gym bag out of his locker and re-tying his shoelaces before he ran back out, slinging the bag over his shoulder. " See ya tomorrow everyone!" Zack then proceeded to jog home.

Tag: Radiance, Anyone

 

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yipeekayyay 
Registered: Dec '07
23979_Han
Date Posted: 5/3 12:40pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City - Date Edited: 5/12 8:29pm (3 edits total) Edited By: Imperial_Hammer
Eric G. Winston... preparing to enter the world of survival horror...
-~- Kendo Gun Shop

"... it's gettin' late, Fred. Think you can handle it from here? Graveyard shift on your own again?" asked Eric through his clenched jaw, a looming half-cigarette held loosely between his teeth. Fred was his uncle, one of Robert Kendo's closer associates who actually shared custody of the small shop with him. They'd been best friends for years, and at the moment as Fred took up duty at the register for a few minutes, Robert was in the back, having to deal with the consequences of a late chili dinner.

"Not on my own," started Fred, watching his nephew put on that old Mariners cap as he got ready to leave for the night "... Rob's in the back, takin' a ****, far's I know. Us old bastards'll be okay. Infact, I'm feeling kinda drowsy..." Fred paused, a long yawn eminating from his gaping mouth as Eric nodded with a tight smile, still trying to hold in that cigarette as he felt for his jacket on the coat hanger nearby. Fred was polishing that vintage 1873 Winchester rifle for the fifth time today, blinking before finishing his statement, "I think I'm gonna head on home soon, actually. Don't worry though, I'm not totally sure, so don't worry 'bout me finding a ride home. I'll manage just fine, kid."

Fred was old, in his early 70's, and still single and childless, but whenever Eric looked at him, he valued his age from a mental perspective, rather then a physical one. He knew that for his build, he was more than capable, and if he said something concerning himself, he was certain of it.

Eric fit the black biker jacket over himself and felt up his pockets, making sure everything was where it should have been, "Alright, Uffy (a sandwiching he'd come up with of the words Uncle and Fred, deeming both himself and his uncle too old for the standard formalities)... call me if you need anythin-" Eric pinched his nose, coughing exaggeratedly, and tucked the cigarette out of his mouth, waving the according hand around as Robert showed up, pulling up his trousers. He'd left the door to the back restroom wide open.

"*******" uttered Eric, "I come here to help you walking corpses out after I'm done getting covered in oil and sparks (not a good combo) ten hours a day and this is how I get paid?" the sarcasm seaped right out of him with a laugh, and both Robert, being as gross as he was, and Fred laughed along with him. "Smells like all kinds o' hell, Rob. Wooo wee.", chuckled Fred, still working on that Winchester.

Eric shrugged and waved at them both, turning and putting the cigarette back in his mouth as he made his way out, "Ya'll have a good night, then. Jesus."

Little did Eric know, however, that the term 'walking corpses' would be the farthest thing from a joking matter in just a sundown or two. Unknowningly, though, like anyone else, he continued to live his normal life as normally as he could. It was dusk, and as he reached the curb to get into his maroon red 1996 model Ford F150 truck, there wasn't a care to be found in this sleepy old city...

--

Back in his apartment, Eric entered the high-school-history-classroom-like clutter that was his home and made himself comfortable. After a few shots of 'Jack' infront of the TV set, he went to wash his face and strip down to a pair of grey boxer-briefs before bed. He'd set his alarm for 7:15am, unprepared to face a dawn of the dead. Unprepared to face a dawn of regrets, agony and chaos...



I_H Edit: Language

 

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nancyallen 
Registered: Nov '07
41189_Aayla Secura
Date Posted: 5/3 4:46pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City - Date Edited: 5/3 4:49pm (2 edits total) Edited By: nancyallen
It was kind of ironic for an ambulance to be called out to Umbrella's field office. It's driver thought, rather nastily, that it was funny. Reiko Ichijo had very little patience for corporate suits, she'd never be one, and given the details she was given that's exactly who she was dealing with.
"Unit 73, coming up on it now," she told the dispatcher over the radio. She got them to replay the 911 emergency call that was made and listened to one executive's slightly panicked description of being bitten by a rat, but Reiko got the idea they were more concerned with being interrupted by their work. Nothing like hospital staff at all.
Cannibal, she thought, very much wanting to find this rat. There was no way to get directly to the pharmaceutical office, Reiko had to park the wagon just down from the RPD police station and leg it. First aid kit in hand she ran down the alleyway, thinking why someone would place anything in such a hard to reach location. It was almost as if Umbrella didn't want to be found.
"Are you the doctor?" Reiko could spot the employee right away, a thin nervous looking man hiding behind his glasses and seemed to be all lab coat. A junior position, she figured, the others must have sent him down.
"No, I drive the poor sap who's had a chunk bitten out of his hand to the doctor," she explained levelly. "You too if need be, it's just down here?"
"Yes, yes." The way he scrambled after her made Reiko wonder if he ever got a break from the merciless harassment she bet herself ten bucks he copped at work.
"Why you gotta work in such a stupid place?" she wondered quietly. One look about told Reiko the area was a health inspector's nightmare, the alley was dirty underfoot with trash and muck, the surrounding buildings didn't look like they fared much better, it was worse than Chicago, a breeding ground for vermin. They reached the office and Reiko pushed the doors aside to see that she was dead on about her assessment, big vermin. A quick first glance was all she needed to feel the bile of criticism she was ready to level at the thuggish looking Umbrella employees. She swallowed it back down.
"Someone called for an ambulance?" she asked, all business and making her way to the guy clutching his hand in pain.
"About time you showed up, we have an injured man here." Reiko's hand clenched into a fist, quite able to have two or three transported to the hospital.
Keep a lid on it, she told herself. She didn't punch his lights out but that didn't stop her mouth.
"Station's just there, why didn't you call STARS?" It was a daring thing to say, a nasty cheap shot at what happened two months ago. Officially it was meant to be a helicopter crash that killed most of the quasi SWAT team, a female medic being the only survivor of one unit and two members of the other, including it's captain, having disappeared or been killed or something, Reiko didn't know the details. She heard the stories however, everyone had. Zombies, monsters, Umbrella being responsible for the virus behind it all. And like everyone else Reiko scoffed at the idea, she fully intended to ask for the drugs the STARS were on if she ever met them but they had disappeared. Didn't like the limelight perhaps, though it'd be right for Umbrella to bump them off to stop the bad publicity, just like it'd be right for them to be responsible for the Arkley killings as fantastical as it was.
"Enough of that," one of them growled. Reiko ignored their dark stares and put the first aid kit on a table, not caring about the delicate sounding odds and ends that were in it's way.
"Hey careful with that." She ignored them and crouched over the victim.
"Give us a look at your hand," she said, and immediately regretted asking when it was extended. The back of the hand looked all gouged out, the rat had bitten him a couple of beauts. Much of the skin was hanging and the flesh seemed to have been bitten through right to the bone, Reiko couldn't tell with the blood.
"This isn't going to put me off work is it?" The victim's voice was softer, weaker, shock she would have guessed. She reached for the first aid kit, knocking more bits and pieces about the place, and opened it up to feel by hand what she was looking for.
"Here," an impatient voice said, holding out something over her shoulder.
"Safsprin?" Reiko looked at the cream. "What's that?"
"It's a new product we're working on." She took it and tossed it aside, having found the ointment she needed.
"This may hurt a little," she warned, clutching the victim's wrist tightly and dabbing it on. The victim cried out in pain and tried to pull his wrist away, Reiko finally letting go and looking for something to help the flesh. "Anyone see what happened?"
"Thing just leaped for his hand, big and nasty. But it looked wrong somehow."
"What do you mean somehow?" Reiko went to put cream on that will aid in the flesh healing back. "I can't work on just wrong somehow." It took a moment for the answer to be forthcoming, she guessed because of the struggle to keep their temper in check.
"I only caught a glimpse of it, it was big, seemed a lot more vicious, dirty, than it should." Reiko applied the cream, trying to picture how it played out.
"Well it wouldn't have been someone's pet," she reasoned. "I don't think the bite will kill you but I think you should come with me to get shots."
"No, I can't," the victim told her, trying to stress how important it was to stay. "We're working on something important, you see there was an inci..."
"He cannot take time off work," one of the others cut in. Reiko paused in her duties, thinking that something important was about to be revealed, before reaching for a bandage.
"Suit yourself," she said quietly, strapping the hand and doing her best to ignore the goombas. If someone didn't want to go to the hospital then there was nothing she could do except patch them up as best she could then hope they have enough sense to see their doctor. Or in this case, not. Reiko would have liked to try and pry for more information but knew she wouldn't get any, not with these goons about.

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Even as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for God is with me.
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Twinky_Stryder 
Registered: Nov '03
44060_Force Unleashed - Shaak Ti
Date Posted: 5/4 5:24pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
IC: Lucy

As Lucy lay on her bed she could hear something.
Tap.......Tap...........Tap
Sitting up she went over to the window and opened it.
"Finally." Called up a voice in a loud whisper. It was Mia Jones, Lucy's best friend. They'd known each other since Junior High, though Mia was two years older.
"What is it?" Asked Lucy, careful to keep her voice down. Paul and her mother were probably in the den watching tv, but she didn't want to take any chances. She shimmied out of the window and climbed down the plant railings.
"I'm leaving." Said Mia. She'd been saving up for a long time to leave Raccoon city and go to New York. She didn't have any family so didn't see a reason to stay.
"What? Right now?" Asked Lucy. She couldn't deny how much she would miss Mia. The older girl had always looked out for her.
"Couple of days, but I just booked the tickets today and thought you should know."
"I can't make you change your mind about this can I?" Lucy said. Mia shook her head.
"Don't start Lu please. Few years down the line you can come join me. We can be like one of those dysfunctional sitcoms we're always watching. I just can't stay in this town, it'll kill me." Said Mia. Lucy looked down, she really hated this, but it wasn't like they would never see each other again. Something occured to Lucy.
"Wait here."
She scrambled up the railing again with as much stealth as possible, went through the window and grabbed something out of her dresser draw. She'd been saving it to give to Mia when she left, she just hadn't thought it would be this soon.
When she was back on the ground she held out the gift to Mia. It was a bracelet with a series of small charms on it.
"Here, just to y'know, say thanks." Said Lucy. Mis took is and instantly put it on.
"Thanks. I got you something too." Mia took out of her pocket and took out a silver locket with a butterfly on. Lucy took it and put it on.
"We're gonna start crying now aren't we?" Asked Mia after a moment of silence. Lucy laughed.
"It is getting a bit after-school special" Said Lucy. The two hugged and Lucy made her way back to her window.
"Hey, don't do anything I wouldn't do." Said Lucy. Mia laughed.
"But that'd be boring."
"Ok then, do everything I wouldn't do."
"And then some." Called Mia before running off. Lucy watched her friend until she couldn't see her anymore. She felt a sinking in her stomach. Sadly she closed the window and got ready for bed.

Mia was cutting across the park when she noticed a man shuffling along the road. His pace was slow and stumbling. She didn't think much of it, a homeless guy or a drunk. But suddenly there was a screeching noise and a white van pulled up. Two men jumped out the back and dragged the guy in. Mia crept closer.
"Restrain him. Make sure he can't bite." One of the appeared to be saying. It was all like something out of a movie. She turned and ran for it, confident they hadn't seen her.
This town was weird, she knew that deep in her bones. At least she would hopefully get out of there before it got weirder.

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Radiance 
Registered: Sep '07
24103_Jedi Knight
Date Posted: 5/5 7:16am Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
IC: Gabriel Ciparzo
August 10th 1998


Gabe woke up at 5 AM the next morning at the sound of his alarm. He rose off of his bed with a groan, slapping the alarm to the off position.

He rose to wash his face but again, he was met with the pipes shuddering and squeeling. He rolled his eyes went to the refrigerator to grab a cold bottle of water instead. Gabriel poured the bottle into a bowl and splashed the cold liquid against his face in the kitchen sink.

After he was effectively awake, Gabriel threw on some running pants and a crappy shirt and left the apartment. As soon as he had locked his door he stopped and realized that he didn't have a shower to come back to after he worked out. Irritated now, Gabriel re-entered his home and shut the door behind him, instead sufficing to take another bottle of water and brush his teeth. When he was done he pulled his new SPF uniform from his bag and set up his ironing board. The seasoned officer pressed his uniform just enough so that the wrinkles were gone. But not enough to put neat creases in the pants or shirt. The pants were cargo anyway. They weren't meant to crease. He pulled on a white undershirt and slipped his pants on, stopping to pull his boots on and tuck his pants into them. Gabe pulled his shirt on and relished it's comfort. Even with the armor pads he had a lot of movement. After tucking in his shirt and snapping up his belt he tucked his hands into the pockets and found that there was paper in them. He pulled it out and read the note that had been left for him.

SGT Ciparzo, you are the senior ranking Officer in the SPF thus far, The wearing of the new uniform and the standards to which will rest in your hands. Find a comfortable solution to accomodate the other members of your section but remember that you are all to look the same so there is no question as to what you are there to do. The dual badges on the shoulders will help with that but the actual wearing of the uniform will fall upon what you decide.

- Brian Irons, Police Chief. RPD


Gabriel tossed the letter onto his desk and looked himself over in the mirror. He didn't mind the way he looked but the sleeves were a bit much for the uniform as it stood. He unbuttoned the cuffs and neatly rolled them up to past his elbow and tucked them neatly. Now he had full range of motion of both arms, was comfortable, and looked... dare he think it..

Cool.

He grabbed his Jericho 9mm and strapped it to his leg, then grabbed his keys, his helmet and his aviators before heading out the door.

When he arrived at the station Marvin was just walking in the door ahead of him. The older, darker skinned man nodded his approval at the new uniform and held the door for Ciparzo.

"Now see. That is much better than that rookie get up you had yesterday."

Gabriel gave him a smile as he nodded for having the door held for him.

"Feels better as well. I might want to pick up some gloves for this though. I lost mine in the move."

Marvin nodded as he followed Gabriel into the huge station. "I have some thin leather gloves you can have. Stop by my desk before you head out for the day."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Hey don't mention it. The only thing I get nowadays are papercuts. My street days are far behind me kid. Time to pass the torch as they say. Before I forget, Chief Irons wants to meet you up in the STARS office when you get settled in. Drop your stuff off and I will go give him the message that you are in. Think you can manage to find the office?"

Gabriel smirked and pointed to a directory map that was encased on the far wall.

Marvin's lips tugged into a smile as he turned left to his normal office, just inside the main lobby. He called over his shoulder as Gabe made his way down to the locker room again.

"Style Ciparzo... remember the nail that sticks out..."

Gabriel turned and walked backwards as he retorted.

"...Gets the promotion first!"

Both men chuckled as they parted ways.

tag none.

OOC: I am going to start dating my posts so that everyone can remain on the same page. So I ask that when you put up your next one. Match the day I have up. This is the first and full day we can play out before the night falls and hell breaks loose. So friends, make sure you spend time with your families... next time you see them they might be trying to eat you. mUAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

...ok I'm done.

 

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Ktala 
Registered: Sep '02
6289_A-Wing
Date Posted: 5/5 10:34pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
August 10th 1998
Arline Taggert (Artie)
Heading for School

Artie cracked open an eye, as her alarm went off. It was Monday, and she had one more week of summer vacation before school started. She wanted to get as much fun in the sun as much as possible, before she was sent back to the dungeons of school.

Grinning, she threw back the covers on her bed, and began to plan her day as she dressed. She planned to visit the pits, catch up with a few of her friends maybe, and catch the matinee movies. They were playing back to back horror films and Artie LOVED science fiction and horror. Grab a quick snack, and maybe even hit the beach before the sun dropped too low.

Luckily, the malls and stuff would still be full of other kids, also enjoying their last few days as well. Artie put her swimsuit on under her pants and shirt, and shot downstairs to grab some breakfast before she headed out. Artie grabbed a quick bowl of cereal, her mom had her head in the refrigerator.

"My, your up early? Any plans today?" her mom asked, while leaning in to give her a kiss. Artie grinned, as she kissed her mom, and grinned between munching cereal. "Yes, Im gonna see if anyone is up for a few bases, go check the movie at the mall, and if I get time, maybe even check out the cove."

Her mom nodded, smiling. "Remember, dont be out too late. We have that play we are all supposed to go see your James in."
Artie grinned, as she tossed the bowl into the sink. "I remember Mom, I promise to get back in time."

Artie was out the door, blowing a kiss to her mom, as she jumped on her bike, and began to peddle out towards the main street. As she speed through on her bike, she shot past the police station that wasnt too far away. At least they werent as annoying as the mall cops.

She peeled around the corner of the station, and headed towards the lots first to see if anyone else was there. If not, she just simply pitch a few balls, before heading over towards the mall, to lose herself in mindless, air conditioned entertainment, with extra butter.


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TheManinBlack 
Registered: Aug '07
46155_Rabbit Tooth Logo
Date Posted: 5/6 12:03am Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
IC: Dante Rand

“Remember the catalysts in a chemical reaction have to be more stable in a biological organism, although they happen all the time in an entity. One false step in the change of the reaction’s speed…slow or fast…could be fatal. That concludes our lecture on how oxygen travels through the body and how it provides energy and stability to it, and how catalysts are once again crucial to the process. If there any questions ask Mrs. Robinson as always.” Dante said in his friendly flat tone. As he looked around the semi crowed lecture room, Dante was hit by a wave of disappointment. He had a full third more students in here two days ago, now all those faces where gone. Maybe for good, maybe not.

“You should do this once for once” Jamie said in a tired voice. Her shoulder length blonde hair and piercing blue eyes somehow made the small gaze of disapproval, look grave.

“I’m sorry an old colleague of mine asked me out for coffee, and its been a while since I’ve seen him.” Dante said in a pleasing, begging tone. Before she could mutter a reply, Dante gathered his supplies off the podium and put them in his suit case and walked off, to the exit with a few of the other students. Birkin was out of his lab today, that happened less than in a blue moon, and he would be paying for breakfast…how could he say no? Dante was in the parking garage trying to spot out his car. His car was far for a cheap pile of tin, but it wasn’t the piece of equipment the other professors got.. He accidentally bought this year’s proper rich kids car, a BMW. Now it took him ages to find his car in this dimly lit dungeon. He finally spotted his car, as he did, he looked down at his watch, as his face contorted to a look of disgust and muttered a curse under his breath. He was going to be late, and he would never hear the end of it from Birkin. The guy was a complete nut, when it came to things like that.

As Dante drove to the tiny, fancy coffee shop Birkin had told him to meet him at he couldn’t help but notice that his car wasn’t in the parking lot. That was strange, Birkin showed that bay off whenever he got the chance. It was his pride and joke, next to his wok after all. He netered the offe shop eyes peeled for Birkin, as he saw him he sat down smiling, until he saw the grim look on Birkin’s face

“I finished the G-Virus” Birkin said in a slightly proud tone, that betrayed the grim look in his face. Before Dante could say anything, Birkin began talking again “ But I’m not giving it to Umbrella”

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Radiance 
Registered: Sep '07
24103_Jedi Knight
Date Posted: 5/6 2:58am Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
IC: Gabriel Ciparzo
August 10th 1998

Gabriel stashed his bag in his locker and made his way up to the STARS office after consulting the building directory. The room itself was small for a full sized unit like STARS, only a few desks littered the small messy office. There were papers strewn all over the place. Various case files that were left open, dossiers on various suspects for a multitude of crimes, from simple vandalism to rape and murder. On the wall itself was a large emblem with the STARS logo. On the far wall to the left was a group photo of alpha and bravo team. To the right was a large radio system that was buzzing steadily.

Gabe was the only one there so he decided to pull the profiles of the people he would be working with. He sat down at a computer terminal and put in his fresh password and ID into the system, it granted him access and he began sifting through profiles of the members that had been dispatched to investigate the disappearance of Bravo team a month prior. Gabriel hadn’t heard anything about the incident, save rumors that the chief members of Alpha squad had been denounced and investigated themselves for false claims and accusations.

He scrolled a few profiles, passing Barry Burton, Brad Vickers, and Albert Wesker. Wesker was the team leader and the man who had first established STARS. Tragically, during the incident in the mountains he was pronounced killed in action. It was a shame. As Gabriel read the file he realized what a talented individual Wesker was. Too late to meet him now, poor guy.

Then Gabe stopped on the next two profiles. Both were split on the screen for ease of viewing. Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine. Two of the more established members of Alpha team. He read each file slowly, taking in every detail. And nearly ripped his Jericho from his holster as a man spoke from behind him.

“Find anything interesting Sergeant Ciparzo?”

Gabriel relaxed as and stood as he looked his new boss in the eye.

“Just reading up on the people I was going to be working with Chief.”

He extended his hand to Chief Brian Irons, who took it with a firm grip before motioning for Gabriel to sit back down.

“Damn shame about that Ciparzo. Those were some fine men and women. STARS was the elite law enforcement in Raccoon City. And they were damn good at their jobs. Sometimes, even tense hostage situations were resolved easily at the mention of STARS simply because of their reputation. Now look at them. Even this office is dead. There is almost nothing left.”

“Do you know what happened Sir?”
Irons looked at him with a strange gleam in his eye. But he shook his head.

“No one really knows what happened on that last investigation. Chris and Jill returned to the city and gave their report, they implicated Umbrella but it was all a lie. Not sure why they would falsify their reports but… who knows what happened up there. Valentine is going to be undertaking a psych evaluation tomorrow, until then she is under house arrest.”

Gabriel looked up. “And Redfield?”

Irons sighed and leaned back against a chair.

“No one knows, he is a fugitive right now. Probably in hiding with family somewhere.” Irons got a distant yet, knowing look on his face. It nagged at Gabriel until it bothered him. He decided to put it aside for the time being.

“Any word on Kennedy, Sir?”

Irons glanced at his watch and thought for a moment.

“He should be arriving this evening if traffic is good. I wouldn’t worry too much about hi….”

Irons had a pager on his waistband and it beeped for attention. He looked down at it and picked up the phone on the desk.

“Excuse me a minute.”

Gabriel nodded and went back to his profile research. The person on the other side of the phone said something to upset Irons. Gabriel made it seem as if he didn’t notice. But he kept the chief in his peripherals.

After a moments discussion, Irons hung up the phone and sighed exasperated.

“Bad news Chief?”

“Not so much, just Umbrella doing some construction around the city today that’s all. Don’t get distracted with it when you are on duty.”

“I’ll make note of it Sir. Was there something specific you wanted to talk about before I head out?”

“No, I just wanted to meet the man who would be taking up the SPF post in my City. We are counting on you Ciparzo.”

That look again…. Something was eating at Irons. It was like he was telling Gabriel something without telling him anything. His words had a hidden meaning. Gabriel didn’t grasp what he was talking about… But he would. They all would…

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Twinky_Stryder 
Registered: Nov '03
44060_Force Unleashed - Shaak Ti
Date Posted: 5/6 10:59am Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
IC: Lucy

10th August 1998

Lucy glided along on her bike. It had been a pretty uneventful morning, just the usual. Only had the one class today, they started classes early for some reason, but they weren't too many until around October.
So that meant until she was learning full time she would be working like crazy at Emmy's. She stopped outside the small greasy spoon and was about to lock up her bike when Danielle, the head waitress, came outside. She was a nice woman, tall, in her late 30's and spoke with a random accent Lucy could never quite place.
"I wouldn't do that yet suga'. Emmy wants you to go to the police station. He's started up this thing where they send their lunch orders and we deliver them over. Usually Tommy's job but poor kid's sick today or somethin'" The woman shook her head. She hated people calling in sick, messed stuff up for those who had to pick up the workload.
"Ok," said Lucy, "what do you need me to do?"
"There's a couple o' boxes, take them and make sure the right people get their orders. Don't worry about money, that'll get sorted by Emmy at the end o' the week, just get someone to sign the receipt. I'll watch your bike. Kay?" Said Danielle
Lucy nodded and went inside the diner, leaving her bike leaning against the wall outisde.
The diner was half full with the three other day waitresses and a few chefs in the kitchen getting food to the late morning customers. The two boxes were on the counter, like Danielle had said. Lucy took them outside and strapped them to the back of the bike, Lucy nodded to Danielle and pedelled off. The older waitress smiled at the girl. She thought Lucy was a hard worker, but maybe sometimes a bit eager to please.

It wasn't far from Emmy's to the station. Chaining her bike up outside she took the boxes off the rack and went up the steps. Walking up to the receptionist she placed the boxes on the desk.
"Lunch order from Emmy's" Said Lucy. The recptionist smiled that weird smile receptionists always have.
"Ok, I'll put them out, wait here, I'll be right back." The Receptionist said, walking off.
Lucy leaned against the front desk, staring off into space at the bulliten board. It had various safety posters on it, a couple of newspaper clippings, the usual.

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yipeekayyay 
Registered: Dec '07
23979_Han
Date Posted: 5/6 12:20pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City - Date Edited: 5/6 1:05pm (1 edits total) Edited By: yipeekayyay
Eric G. Winston
-~- August 10th, 1998 - Apartment 3C
Beep.. beep.. beep.. beep...

It was precisely 7:15am when Eric's alarm clock went off on cue. With his eyes shut and a low grumble, the man quickly snapped out of his lazy trance and ripped the sheets off himself, sitting up on the edge of his bed before slapping the alarm silent. He rubbed lightly across his face and the back of his neck before getting up to stretch, followed by tossing himself down onto the rug near his bed and hoisting himself up a few times using his upper-body.

"1, 2, 3, 4...," Eric lightly grunted under his breath, finally stopping after fifteen quick reps. For better or worse, the early day push-ups always got his blood running fast, and with a quick yawn he stood up, hurried to the bathroom to wash up, and fixed himself coffee with a truck-load of cream. He got his bag ready, filled with his mechanic's uniform, work boots and cap (which he never wore if his Mariner's cap had any say in the matter), got dressed, grabbed his keys, wallet, and pack of cigarettes with a second cup of coffee in hand before making his way out and towards his job.

Inside of his red Ford pickup, Eric yawned again, holding the cigarette in one hand before lighting up a Zippo and setting the cancer stick in motion, placing it inbetween his lips after setting the cup of coffee down inside the nearby cupholder. He flipped through the radio stations before finding his usual fix - KRBR-FM, 102.5 FM. It was a Wisconsinite station, but it was the best within radiowave ranges in Eric's opinion. Finally, everything was set, and he banked of out of his parking position and headed to work. Soon enough, though, he was there, parking again.

He stepped out, grabbed his things, tossed what was left of the cigarette and walked through the main garage, greeting most of the co-workers, and into the locker room to get changed. All things seemed normal, so far... so far...

 

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Marshmallow_Bandit 
Registered: Feb '08
24086_Mace Windu
Date Posted: 5/6 11:01pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
GM Approved!

Name: Damien Angelo Sanchez
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Height: 5’6”
Weight: 140 lbs. (recently lost weight)
Facial Description: olive skin; scraggly, unkempt black hair, beard, and moustache; hair has dirty blonde tips, bleached from before. Length of hair is about 3 inches all over, as if he shaved it all at one point and let it grow back evenly. Straight, healthy-looking teeth and gums
Body Type: thin, yet tone
Clothing: faded black hooded sweatshirt, tattered sleeves with holes for thumbs; new blue-fade-to-brown jeans (recently stolen); old Reebok running shoes
Occupation before the outbreak: homeless for 5 weeks (self-imposed beggar who is well known on his block for his melodic tunes and soothing lyrics)
Habits: plays acoustic guitar; randomly pulls out a toothbrush and brushes teeth; drinks alcohol moderately; smokes weed when he can afford it or when it’s donated to him
Weaponry: owns a Military knife (rubber grip and black blade), kept in his right pocket (given to him by his older brother when he was 17); heard of a weapons cache kept in Don Giovanni’s office (a crime lord at the center of the illicit drugs that can be found being sold along the streets of Raccoon City)
Biography:

Damien had a promising start in life. Second-born into the healthy marriage of Chemistry professor Jorge Sanchez and Physics professor Jennifer Ashford, he was a very intelligent and educated child. He was a star student in his town of Manheim, PA, and up until 9th grade, he kept straight A’s in all his classes with relative ease. He especially loved History class and loved to read stories about war. That summer after 9th grade he met Naomi, a cute, care-free girl with enchanting eyes and a killer smile that had just a few bad habits. Damien wanted to spend every waking minute with her. He had no closer companion since his older brother, Gabriel, left for the military a few months prior. Months after meeting her, after starting 10th, his grades started slipping; his attitude towards his academics, his friends, and his family changed. He became very rude with people. He started listening to punk and grunge music, and he would lock himself in his room with an acoustic guitar he stole from someone and play until he went to sleep. His father suspected drugs and felt Naomi had something to do with it, so he prohibited Damien from visiting her anymore. He rebelled (as any young kid would) and stopped going to school completely. He closed himself off from his parents. In a 2-week stretch of time, he ran away from home, only to come back willingly, hungry and cold from his travels along the countryside. His parents didn’t know what to do, though they knew a change in scenery would help.

As if by some sort of miracle (or misfortune), Jorge Sanchez received a call from Umbrella Corp. wanting an interview for a position in their Product Research and Development department. He was involved in the pharmaceutical industry beforehand, having worked with Pfizer, but never had he dreamed of working with such a prestigious organization. His employment with Pfizer ended abruptly, following a scandal the company wanted to keep quiet. He received a nice severance payout, leaving him and his family living very comfortably, but he left the company with something to prove to himself, and this was the perfect opportunity to not only get back into the field, leaving his employment with the college behind him, but also to give Damien the change he needed. Umbrella interviewed Jorge and hired him on the spot. They moved to Raccoon City.

Damien had no other choice but to try to regain his focus on his studies. He graduated high school with honors. But he felt something was missing. Something wasn’t right. He needed an escape from his ties to his family. He followed his older brother’s example and joined the Army. He always had a fascination with guns, so he joined as a 45B, Small Arms / Artillery repairer. Not surprisingly, he excelled in Basic Training and was a Hawkeye at the M16 range, scoring 40 target hits out of 40 rounds. Advanced Individual Training (AIT) bored him, though. Even though there was a wealth of knowledge to be memorized about the Army’s weapons, it didn’t take too long for him to soak that up. ‘There’s only so much to learn about them,’ he joked. He could recite specs on the M16, M203, M240, M9, and MK19 among other weapons with ease. He could take these weapons apart and put them back together effortlessly. He could name every individual piece. But something about all this just didn’t interest him anymore.
It was then when it dawned on him: repetitive things bore him. That’s why he needed to escape from his family. He thought it was a wise choice to get away from the stale, humdrum life he had alongside his parents by joining the Army. But a past fact about his character that doesn’t quite fit with the Army lifestyle resurfaced: he wasn’t too keen on listening to authority. His rebellious nature as a teen somehow bled through to his personality. Although he was extremely knowledgeable in his field, his Army career suffered due to his defiance.

He struggled during his 6-year contract, and he walked away from the Army with a smile and a sigh of relief. His family welcomed him back home with open arms. Soon, though, they all realized that his degeneration would continue. Feeling lost, without any direction to take his life, he slipped back into smoking marijuana, something he hadn’t done since moving from Manheim. He refused to shave since he’d done it for 6 years straight. He bleached his hair. He sat around the house and did nothing all day. He didn’t care, because he felt the little bit of rent he paid was contribution enough. One day, his mother took the opportunity of having the day off to sit down and have a long chat with the lad. She probed and queried him. Her intent was to have him open his eyes to a passion he had, something he could pursue as a career he could concentrate on. Although his mom thought the conversation went nowhere, Damien picked his guitar back up and played to his heart’s content. He played with great enthusiasm, and he would lock himself in his room with CDs and instructional books and learn new songs and new styles of playing. His savings earned from his years in the Army were depleted, and his parents put pressure on Damien to get a normal job. Again, his defiant nature got the best of him, and he packed up a few things and headed out the door. He often thought about what it’d be like to live out in the streets again.

The last words from his mother before he headed out the door: “God, Damien, when are you going to grow up?!”



 

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Ktala 
Registered: Sep '02
6289_A-Wing
Date Posted: 5/7 12:25am Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
August 10th 1998
Arline Taggert (Artie)
Lunchtime - Mall

BURRRR!

It sure was cold in the theater, but Artie loved it. Back to back horror movies today, her favorite. Artie munched on popcorn, and slurped through several sodas, as she watched the ghouls and vampires on screen. Some of it was soo bad, she was laughing, more than anything else. She was still giggling, as she left the theater, and started to think about getting some real food to eat.

She looked around the Mall. The Food court was open, and doing brisk business.
She grabbed some fried rice, wontons, and a chicken. A healthy meal, as her mom would say. She sat, eating half of her food, while there, then put the rest in a bag. She would take it home.

She wondered around the mall for abit, looking at the new fashions and styles. Mom would take her out to get her clothes for school soon. YIKES, what an ugly affair THAT was. She seldom got what she wanted. She sighed, being the only girl between all her brothers, she was at least lucky, she didnt get hand me downs, like THEY did...but still...

Artie headed outside, to warm up abit. It was pretty outside, and she decided to sit down on one of the benches outside the mall, and watched as people milled about, doing whatever it was they were doing. A nice breeze, made it comfy, so she simply sat back, and watched what was going on at the mall.



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Marshmallow_Bandit 
Registered: Feb '08
24086_Mace Windu
Date Posted: 5/7 12:52pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City - Date Edited: 5/7 12:58pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Marshmallow_Bandit
OOC: I guess I'll have to explain that all italicized lines are Damien's thoughts. Enjoy.

IC:

Damien Angelo Sanchez
August 10, 1998
10:32am

*yawn*

*stretch*

*scratch*

*open eyes*

Wait...who is this beside me? God, I've got such a headache...

Damien sits up and, in a flash, remembers the events of the previous night. A little too much to drink...a little partying with a bar fly... They somehow ended up back at his cardboard box--big enough for a riding lawnmower--his current place of residence. He didn't recognize the sheets they were wrapped up in, leading him to believe this chick went back to her place to grab stuff so she could spend the night.

What a crazy hoe.

He grabs the sheet and peels it off of him, setting it alongside Claire. He skittishly puts his pants on, quickly zips up, slips out of the box, and stands up to stretch. All that tussle woke Claire. Damien pulls a toothbrush out of his right front pocket and starts brushing away as Claire rolls over and looks at him.

"D, my back hurts!" she says in a whiny voice. She scrunches her face and pouts.

"Sorry, I'll take it easy on you next time."

Watch it now...sarcasm's in the air!

He continues brushing. Oddly enough, he uses no toothpaste and no water, so when he's done, he spits and puts the slimy tool back in his pocket.

"No, D, I mean laying on a bunch of newspaper isn't really much of a cushion against the pavement. Why didn't we just stay back at my place?"

"If I would have done that, then I wouldn't be 'Dirty' Sanchez, now would I?" He reaches in his left rear pocket for a J, puts it to his lips, lights it with a match from a matchbook with "Scardena's" printed on it in red letters with a green background, and inhales. "What made YOU stay at MY place, anyway?"

"I was trashed too, you know. And what is this, anyway?" referring to Damien's setup. "Is this what you're going to bring a girl home to when..."

"Good enough for you, wasn't it?! Listen, if I wanted criticism, I'd go back home and listen to my mother go off on a rant about what I should be doing with my life and how I'm wasting 'suuuuuch great talent'. I really don't care. In fact, get your 'box' out of my box and scoot on out of here!" He takes a long drag.

Claire puts her tube top, skirt, and high heels on, grabs her pink and white hand purse, slides her large brown sunglasses on her head over her bangs, and struts out of the alley in a frenzy. Damien just stares at her.

She looks pissed. Man, I love to watch her leave, though.

Damien turns back to his box, looking at the mess that was left behind. He takes his right hand and scratches his right cheek through the beard.

Hmmm...what's on today's agenda?

He sniffs his right underarm while still scratching.

Ugh...I gotta get myself a shower pronto. And with that, I should probably check myself for crabs.

 

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Marshmallow_Bandit 
Registered: Feb '08
24086_Mace Windu
Date Posted: 5/7 4:37pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City - Date Edited: 5/12 8:27pm (2 edits total) Edited By: Imperial_Hammer
IC:

Damien Angelo Sanchez
August 10, 1998
12:16pm

Damien already took care of brunch. It's his fifth week as a "homeless guy" and he's starting to get used to the glares from everyone when he steps into the same Burger King to order the same Croissandwich every day. The cash he grabbed before he left his parent's house has lasted him for a while. He's hardly had to spend any of it since he earns a pretty penny playing acoustic covers of popular songs (and a few original songs) out on the streets. All he's trying to do now is find a place where he can take that shower he so urgently needs.

The plan was to break into someone's home and use the shower while trying to not disturb anything else. It's become a sort of art form for Damien, breaking and entering. He doesn't do it to be harmful, or even out of necessity. He does it because he can. He just finds amusement in it.

He walks into an apartment building, finds a random door he wants to knock on, and knocks. Apartment number 233 will be his ticket to cleanliness.

"Hey...it's the plumber," he says. If anyone opens the door, he can play it off as having the wrong apartment. If no one answers, he'll find a way to slip in and use the facilities. He waits ten seconds and knocks again.

"Did you call for a plumber?"

No answer. He hurried outside and made his way up the fire escape. The fire escape was between two buildings. Out of sight, out of mind was the name of the game. With just his hands, he forced apartment 233's window open and he climbed in. The window led to a bedroom -- a cluttered, unorganized bedroom. He made his way to the living room to see a few boxes sitting out in the middle of the floor. There were a few items in those boxes. There were more boxes in the corner of the living room, although they were collapsed and stacked on top of one another.

Hmmm...looks like whoever lives here just moved in or is about to move out. Alright. Let's just check into the bathroom, shower, and check out of this joint.

He walks down the hall and makes a left into the bathroom.

Ahhhh...cleanliness at last!

He was looking forward to this shower. It's been a few days since he last broke into someone's home to take care of personal hygiene. He strips down to nothing and turns the faucet on. The pipes start rumbling and screeching. No water comes.

"What the hell is this?!" he yells in frustration. "How am I supposed to take a shower now?!"

He shuts the faucet off and tries the sink. He has the same result.

"Damn it! What kind of crappy apartment complex IS this??" He laughes to himself. If only he was the plumber he said he was when he first knocked...

He walkes out of the bathroom nude and begins exploring the apartment for a quick solution. He's NOT about to try breaking into ANOTHER apartment to see if the problem is isolated. He was lucky enough to find this empty one available for abuse. He then thinks he found a solution: he discovered few water bottles in the fridge.

Well, this'll have to do. I have to hurry up, though, 'cause I don't know when the owner will be here.

Grabbing five 20oz bottles, he makes his way back to the bathroom. He climbs into the tan ceramic bathtub, cracks a bottle open, and pours it on his head and body. He cringes. The water is COLD: his lips turn blue; his nipples get hard; his 'pride' shrinks. He reaches over for the new box of Irish Spring and pulls out the bar. He latheres up quickly. With every stroke of the bar against his skin, he imagines being in a tropical island. The warm sun, the white sandy beach, the crystal-clear water...anything to get his mind off the frigid water. He takes a second bottle and tries rinsing himself.

"Aaaaargh! Son of a...!" He holds his tongue. He realizes he is being very loud, and the last thing he wants is for any neighbors to become alarmed. He struggles through the rest of the rinsing process and then reaches for a towel. Of course, the towel rack was empty. Biting his tongue so as to not yell out obscenities, he rushes over to the living room, scouring the boxes, and then runs to the bedroom. In the bedroom closet, he finds a towel. He runs back to the bathroom, drying himself off along the way, and puts his clothes back on. Throwing the towel over his left shoulder and putting his toothbrush in his mouth, he walks through the apartment once more, exploring its content. In a box in the living room, he finds an electric shaver. Thinking he might find some use for it, he puts it in his left pocket. There isn't really anything in the fridge other than water, and the cabinets are void of any food. He sees a shoebox on the countertop next to the kitchen sink and decides to look in it. There was an array of personal papers in the box. He pulls out an old phone bill.

Gabriel Ciparzo. But the address on the envelope is not this address. Whoever this is must have just moved in.

He continues perusing the contents. He comes across a letter from the Racoon City Police Department. His eyes became wide open.

...he's a COP?!?! *******************!

Instinctively, he takes the towel and starts wiping down everything he remembers touching. He quickly grabs a plastic bag from under the kitchen sink and throws the empty water bottles away. He wipes down the tub, each faucet, every doorknob, even the shoebox. He backtracked to the bedroom and climbed out the window. Taking the towel, he shut the window and wiped it down. Racing down the fire escape, making a right, and running down the street, he thinks to himself how this whole shower fixation could have cost him his freedom. If he wanted a shower that bad, he should have just sucked in his pride and gone to his parents' house. However, he wasn't done playing homeless, at least not yet. Being homeless and not having any responsibilities made him feel like he wasn't tied down to anything and, in turn, could do anything.

Although, if I was rich, I'd also not have to worry about responsibility or the suffocating feeling of being tied down.

He turned the corner and walked into a convenience store. He reached into his pocket, pulled out $1, and bought a lottery ticket.

$2 million...there are so many things I could do with that. Yeah, like probably buy another toothbrush. This one's starting to taste pretty grimy.

He points at a toothbrush behind the counter and pays for it.

$1.29 AND it has a tongue brush? I love this convenience store!

He walkes out the store, spits his old toothbrush out on the ground, opens the packaging to the new one, tosses that on the ground, and puts the new toothbrush in his mouth.



I_H edit: Language

 

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Darth_Vaders_cousin 
Registered: Nov '04
7758_Sparky
Date Posted: 5/7 9:57pm Subject: RE: Resident Evil, Survive the City
IC: Jayson Bryce
August 10
12:28 PM


PSSSHHHHSSSHHHPSSHHHSSS

It was high noon on Monday, day three of Bryce's latest hunting expidition. It was the fifth tab he had cracked today, and the third case he had broke into this weekend. To say he drank while he was hunting was an understatement.

Oddly enough, he wasn't having as much success as he had in years past. He'd seen a whole three deer this year, and they were all does. It was funny, how you might see a 10 point buck the week before season, but the minute it was legal to shoot it, disappears. They said animals had a sixth sense about self preservation, and that only supported the theory. He didn't really notice, but there weren't very many animals around like there should have been...maybe they knew something he didn't.

His truck rumbled along the deserted forest road, rolling down it at barely an idle. Truck hunting was neither a productive nor a legal practice, but it was how most people did it anymore. Especially people who didn't want to pack a case of beer on their back along with a rifle.

He stopped, and scoped down a long draw for a while. Nothing. Not even a bunny hopping around. This was turning out to be a bad year for the mighty hunter. He beat a pack of Marlborlo Red's on the palm of his hand, and popped one into his mouth.

Ticksh-Ticksh-hhhssss

He took a long drag, and opened the pack to count what he had left. Just a handful, if the hunting kept up this good, he'd need to make a run back into town to pick up some more. It wouldn't bother him much, even though his old '89 Ford 150 only got 10 miles to a gallon, thanks in part to the four-inch lift and 35 inch tires, gas prices were the lowest he had ever seen. No more than $1.08 in some places. Not that he was making much money, but things weren't tight. He'd finally paid off the last of his court fines nearly two months ago, and money had surplussed since then.

Life, in Jayson Bryce's eyes, was relatively on the up and up.


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