Welcome to the RPF!
Discussion in 'Non-Star Wars Role Playing Archive' started by Sentinel001, Sep 30, 2007.
OCC: ? Also lets be nice and quiet...we don't want the game closed due to our 'clever wit'
and you took me seriously when I said 'I' decree'???
Cemero, he is in fact allowed to "Decree" to a certain extent. Anyway, guys I'm terribly sorry about my inactivity lately. The wireless network in my house is on the fritz so access to the internet has been scarce for the past two days. We will start for real in a few hours. For now, this is the list of characters and their users.
Sentinel001 (me)- Dale Kerrigan
Anime_Fan- Daniel Keyes
Chanbill5390- Chandler Billings
DarthCemeroX- Maximillian (Max) Murano
Apadamek- Arkady Callia
TheManInBlack- James Sunderland
Arias_Vynar- Ryan Meyers
Desikrad- Paul Olsen
Slumvillage- Jason Yancey (not yet posted)
Sentinel001 (also me)- James [Jim] McDonagh
Anime_Fan- Vincent Miller (Vince)
TheManInBlack- Kelly Risko
MasterDmentae- Mark Uay
Okay- this is Jason Yancey's CS
Name: Jason Yancey
Special Skill: swings a mean baseball bat
Appearance: Looks like Wesely Snipes
Personality: Easy going, laid back, sometimes his anger can get the best of though
Occupation: Former MLB star
Opinion on what?s causing the outbreak: white people
Bio: Former MLB star Jason Yancey, suspeneded by the leauge, then quit after he was found to have been using steriods. Grew up in detroit, MI to a couple of hard working, loving parents. Jason is very atheletic, strong and has great endurance. Nothing tragic in his life has slowed him down at all. He's seen so much that Zombies eating people doesn't phase him too much. He knows what he has to do to survive. He is great at using weapons which he can swing such as baseball bats, 2x4s, sledge hammers etc. He isnt bad with a fire arm either.
Again, we will begin in a matter of hours. PM me with where you want your character to be when it all starts. You don't absolutely need to be in any of the three places I posted earlier (if you are in the miliary however, you need to be in that convoy) but it would be preferable so that we don't have to spend fourteen pages getting everyone together.
OOC: Project Evolution:The Game that never was
OCC: GIve him awhile...he did say his internet was on the fritz....
OOC: then why would he start this if he can't ever do it.
OCC: Appartently it just started recently....if this never gets off the ground its too bad, because its an excellent idea.
Thankyou, MIB, and on that note, let's get a move on.
My next post will follow this one immedeately and will start the RPG
maybe rather than post saying ur gonna post. Lets just get that post done
Journal of Dale Richard Kerrigan
Current Location: Paris, France
Christmas, looks like ol' Saint Nick skipped us this year. Hard to believe it's been almost a year to the day since it started. Strange how it seems like just yesterday and a hundred years ago both at the same time. I was a normal man back then, hell, we all were. Normal jobs, normal lives, normal problems. It's amazing how quickly time changes
PROJECT EVOLUTION: MAN'S DOWNFALL
PART ONE: OUTBREAK
CHAPTER ONE: HAPPY NEW YEAR
Loctaion: McTyre's Pub
Dale's working on New Year's eve. He could complain, but he gets it. Someone has to bring drunk people their drinks on the biggest boozing day of the year. It's not like he had plans to celebrate with the friends that he barely has. He stopped getting attatched to people a while ago. As he serves drunkards their drinks at near lightning speed, he begins to wonder what his resolution will be. He decides he'll get a better job, find a nice girl, do something with his life, just like he said he'd do last year... and the year before.
Suddenly everyone in the bar gasps, Dale notices that they're all looking at the TV screen. As he looks up, his jay drops to his chest. The party in Time's Square has turned into a cannibalism convention.
Soon he hears banging on the door outside, he looks over to the window to see a huge mob of... people... if he can still call them that. Trying to force their way into the bar.
He doesn't know what's going on, but he doesn't like it, he grabs the shotgun that his boss keeps under the bar in case some idiot decided to rob this piss-poor establishment.
He pumps a shell into the chamber, and steels himself for what will be the night of his life.
IC: Chandler Billings
Location: Small town a few hours north of Syracuse, New York
Chandler had been watching the television for the last couple of hours, he flipped through the channels and came upon one of the most sickening and frightening of all the things he'd ever seen. Times Square in New York had become a nightmarish blood-bath. People were all over the place, ripping each other apart and the exposure of internal organs as peoples heads and torsos were cleaved apart. He quickly turned the channel to escape the scene but it had suddenly appeared on every channel, he then turned the television off. He suddenly heard a loud banging on the door, he looked through the window and saw his sister, father, and his grandparents on the porch, he opened the door and they came in. "Have you seen what's going on in New York?" he asked as they passed by him.
"Yes we have, people are literally at each other's throats down there, somethings not right and by the sounds of things it's going to spread, quickly pack what you can we're going to camp. Hurry!" his father said pushing his son in the direction of his room. Chandler quickly packed some warm clothes and anything he'd possibly need. He then went back to his living room and then to his father's jeep. "Strap in!" his father said. His sister, mother and dog were already in the jeep along with all the possesion they could manage to bring with them. "Ok, grandma and grandpa B and Small are already on there way, we'll be there in about half an hour screw speed limits." his father continued, with that he stepped on it and they zipped off for the Adirondaks, where Chandler's grandfather had a camp.
"Are you sure it's going to spread?" Chandler asked. "And if so what are we going to do to stop it?" he added looking at the back of his father's head.
"Yes, there's no doubt what I heard on the radio, it's already sreading to the area outside of New York City, as for stopping it should it get this far I brought my guns and our bows. I've called Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Bailey, they're bringing everyone they can up to camp, we're going to form a nice little commune until this night mare subsides." he added as he kept driving. They spent the last half hour in silence, when they finally reached the camp they found everyone had made it, but things were only going to get worse
Chanbill, the outbreak takes place in the city, not upstate.
The above post is voided.
OOC: I thought it took place all over sorry about that, I'll just edit it to match.
afterwards- Edited, if you wouldn't mind voiding the void tht would be nice, I've just taken on the character of a paraniod family.
IC: Jason Yancey
Location: McTyre's Pub
A few months ago Jason Yancey stood on top of the world. Leading the league in home runs, batting average and runs batted in, he was on pace to win the triple crown. His team, the New York Yankees where in first place and he was a lock for the MVP of the league and possibly a world series pennent. Until one day he came into the training facility and was administered a random drug test. From that day on, Yancey's life was over. Strip of records, awards and his integrity. He knew what he was getting into when he decided to take his game to the next level. Now he sits alone at McTyre's Pub in New York, of course sporting a fake grey beard and Yankee's cap pulled over his eyes as to not get seen by any fans who would love to slit his throat. He was alone for New Years, his kids were with their mother on the otherside of the nation. He liked to go in disquise to local spots in New York, trying to hear what the people are saying about him but talk about him died down a lot. He was a faded memory in the fans of Yankee baseball's minds.
Jason was looking down at his drink when he heard the bar gasp. At first he figured he was made out and caught, but he looked up to see the rest of the bar looking at the TV screen above the bar. His face didn't show any emotion but when he seen the scene of times square, his jaw dropped. He watched the words on the bottom of the screen go by as some annoucer narrated the story of what was happening on the ground. He then heard banging on the door from the outside and also heard the a shotgun being pumped. He noticed it was the bartender with the shotgun. Jason looked back to the entrance of the pub and seen it these people or things were intent on getting in and doing to the pub what they did to times square. The former MLB star got up from his seat quick and yelled at the bartender.
"Hey you got anything else back their of use, maybe a baseball bat?"
ic Arkady Callia
Arkady sighed as she sat at some bar in new york she sipped the drink she had and raised it in salute to the new year. Most of her friends were either in other parts of the country, times square, or various other bars around new york. She thought about how her life was going, not bad she had a job and she had friends but well what did her opinion matter to anyone anyway.
She brushed her hair out of her eyes as she took another sip of her drink she glanced at the T.V. "happy new yea..." her mutter ended in shocked silence as she looked at the screen "what the.." was all that came out of her shocked lips suddenly she heard a gun load and a man ask for a bat or something, glancing out the window she saw. People, or something like people, it was like a movie. This had to be a joke it just had to be, but the fear coursing through her told her that it was not.
She leaped from her table and slowly backed away toward the bar, a fearful glance at the gun toting bartender changed her mind and she switched direction toward the end of the bar, she stood there watching the people walk closer a shocked expression she glared at the bartender "call the police or something!", police, guys with guns they could help them. She had tried to sound strong but her voice had come out high, scared, terrified even.
Location: McTyre's Pub
Weapon: 12 Gauge Shotgun
Ammunition: 14 shells
"... maybe a baseball bat?" Dale heard one of his patrons humbly request, looking over the man, he noticed that it was none other than Jason Yancey, his former hero who almost turned him into a met fan. He never thought he'd be happy to see him again. He looked around the bar for a bat or something that would work just as well. He found a crow bar that was used to open the door to the cellar.
"Hope this 'll do." he said breifly.
He looked over at the girl standing with her back against the bar. She was pretty attractive, but looked petrified. Dale was thinking of what he could do, he saw that one of the regulars, Daniel Keyes was also looking outside with his jaw in his lap.
"Jason," he said, and the man he had given the crobar to turned to face him, confirming that it actually was him, "help me reinforce the door and windows with these tables, Dan, get behind the bar and start making molotovs."
It wasn't much, but it was the closest thing he had to a plan thus far.
TAG: Daniel, Arkady, Jason, [Anyone else who is going to be at the bar.]
IC: Captain Jimmy McDonough
Location: Milary Convoy
Weapon: M-16 Assault Rifle
Ammunition: 360 Bullets
Jim wasn't sure what to make of this one. The telegram was the simplest thing he'd ever seen and the most unsettling:
Enter the city,
Be gone by 1100 Hours, 1st of January, 2010
Thirteen words. That was all they gave him. He assumed the situation would explain itself when he got there. There were three soldiers in his humvee with him. It was black. They were the first truck over the bridge into the city. When they go there, they weren't entirely sure what it was they were seeing. The four of them stared out of the windshield into the massive mob of... whatever the hell they were, and before they could say "what the hell", brooklyn bridge went up in flames behind them, taking the rest of the convoy with it. They were the first over the bridge, and the last over the bridge.
TAG: Vincent, Kelly, Mark.
IC: Dr. James Sunderland
Hotel Romero paring lot, On route to MyTrye?s bar
James could not phantom what just happened to him in his hotel room...or why he ran away. James thought he wanted to die...apparently he didn't. Not that he wanted to go that way....who did? It didn't matter what he wanted to did moments before though...all he wanted to do now was keep his sorry butt alive. James reached into his pockets and fumbled for his keys...after what seemed like an hour he finally got to them and unlocked his car. He opened his car and jumped in, quickly putting his key in the ignition, and drove off faster the wind. As he drove out the Hotel Parking lot James wondered what the heck he was going to do, and where he was going to go. James quickly shut his brain up as he drove down the road and saw that the whole side of the street was covered in those things.As he got a safe distance away from the hotel...and those monsters his mind wandered back to what happened in the Hotel Romero.
He was planning on how he was going to end it all...when James heard a large thud knock right outside his door...then another followed by a long cry. James went outside to investigate the loud noise. Outside stood a large man...who appeared to have pinned down a small woman...he seemed to be snapping at her like a wild dog would with his mouth. ?What?s wrong with you!? Let her go!" James yelled this attracted the...things attention. As the thing stood and faced James...James screamed as loud as he could in terror.
The man was missing all the skin from the left side of his face?revealing just flesh?and the top part of his teeth where his gums should have been, giving the thing that had once been a man?a leery sort of smile. James began to back away?.but that only drew the things attention. The thing drove at James arms forward like a linebacker trying to tackle a quarterback?James tried to sidestep the monster and did but not before getting smacked by the things outstretched hand. The thing quickly whipped around and tried to grab and bite James, though the monster didn?t manage to bite James?he did manage to grab him by the neck. James cried softly in pain. It felt as if a lion claw had grabbed him instead of a large bony man?s. It was at this moment James realized he wanted to live?before James knew it he was grabbing a small; but heavy silver vase on his left?he took it and bludgeoned in the freaks head. James almost feel, to the floor he knew if he had took any longer the thing would have torn his throat ripped out by that monster. James store down at the freak?it wasn?t moving. ?Thank God? James mumbled, before he remembered the woman. As soon James turned around to look at her he heard a loud moan coming from down the hallway. James looked behind seeing three more of those things. James forgot all about the woman?he would settle for saving his own life. As James ran down the other side the hallway and down the stairs toward the parking garage he was sure he saw more of those thing?but he was smart enough not to stick around and say hi.
James thoughts came back to the present state of things. James saw only empty road ahead of him and knew that wasn?t exactly a good thing. James eyes went across the road until he saw a small bar with a few people inside?but a lot of those freaks outside. There didn?t seem to be any of those things near the back though. He stopped his car and thought on whether to take his chances on the road alone or risk it all now to hole up with the people inside.
IC: MAximillion Murano
Location: NYC, apartment
Suddenly Max awoke from his nap. His face on his sketchbook, it was midnight. The radio was playing, the noise was some awful screaming. He thought nothing of it until he heard somebody shouting that their liver was ripped out. His eyes widened, h ran and opened his window. Ducking his head out, he saw blood down in the streets. The irony was he was just drawing stills for a zombie cartoon. He paniced when he heard a thump at his door. He quickly ran into his bed room and grabbed the sword "Masume" that his friend had given him before he died. He didn't expect to do anything, it was more of security blanket. However somewhere in his mind he felt brave.
IC: Daniel Keyes
"Jason, help me reinforce the door and windows with these tables, Dan, get behind the bar and start making molotovs."
Daniel had been in complete and utter shock. At the sound of Dale's voice he came back to his senses and nodded. " Right." He stood from his table, and slid over the bar counter, dropping down in a crouch. He grabbed several bottles of beer and rags that were used to clean glasses, muttering under his breath. "Good thing I play so many video games."
He looked around, and then at Dale. "Do you have a can of kerosene somewhere in here, or should I douse these in more alcohol." Really any flammable liquid would do, but kerosene provided a larger explosion and burned a lot hotter. While waiting the barman's response Daniel pulled out a disposable lighter from his inner jacket pocket and sighed in relief. "Good thing I never took this out."
Tag: All in bar
IC: Vincent Miller
Weapon: M16 Assault Rifle
Ammo: 360 bullets
Vincent turned to look out the back window when the bridge went up in flames. They were going to be the only military to get into the city. No one else was going to be able to come unless they came by air. Silently, without showing any emotion towards the death of the rest of the convoy, he turned back to look at the mob of people, that weren't really people. " What the hell is going on here."
He didn't expect anyone to answer him. In fact, he felt that, everyone was thinking the same thing. Maybe with a few more profanities, because he had a few choice words in mind to blurt out. Without giving it much more thought, he looked to Captain McDonough.
"Captain, what's the strategy now?"
Tag: All in military convoy
Location: McTyre's Pub
Weapon: 12-Gauge Shotgun
Ammunition: 14 Shells
"No kerosene, Dan, sorry" Dale said.
After moving the last table in front of the door and instructing the rest of the patrons to hide in the wine cellar, Dale took a brief look at was going on outside through the small gap in between the tables they had boarded the windows with.
There were dozens of them, possibly a hundred. But passed all of it, he saw a truck parked outside with someone inside it. He turned around and hopped over the bar to rip the telescope -the bar owner's only attempt to give the bar a 'pirate' theme- off the wall. Much to Dale's surprise, the stupid thing actually worked.
He ran back over to the window and used the telescope to see who was in the truck. At first he got a not-so-desired glance deep into one of the creatures facial features. White, empty eyes, chunks of skin missing exposing flesh and even parts of the jaw bone. It wasn't what he wanted to see. When he finally did get a good look at who was in the truck, he saw that it was yet another one of the regulars, Doctor James Sunderland. He was there almost once a day, always venting his depression to Dale about how stressful his job was. Dale never thought he'd be happy to see the Doc.
Dale took out his cell phone and dialed the Dr. Sunderland's number, he figured it couldn't hurt to have a doctor on speed dial.
After a few rings, the Dr. picked up the phone.
"Dr. Sunderland? Its Dale... yeah the bartender. I need to know how much damage the front bumper of that pick-up truck can take."
TAG: Dan, Jason, Dr. Sunderland, Arkady, anyone else in bar.
Location: NYW, apartment
After grabbing Masume from his shelf, he heard a crack. He turned violently to see a hand stuck through the door. It reached for the door know and yanked it off. The door swung open, Max standing hesitantly in his bedroom. A swarm of zombies entered the apartment. Max paniced, he quickly ran and grabbed the art supplies he could and unsheated Masume. Two zombies approached and as one reached out, Max closed his eyes and swung the sword. The swing was a joke, but a lucky one. He looked down to see a hand laying next to his foot. Suddenly the hand was possesed, it grabbed his foot. He paniced and ran back into his room. Not as brave as he thought he was, he quickly opened the window,stepped out onto the fire escape. He saw people and zombie alike. He looked down to seehis car had been ripped to pieces.
IC: James McDonough
Location: Next to the Brooklyn Bridge
Time: 12:30 AM
Weapon: M-16 Assault Rifle
Ammunition: 360 Bullets
It was the first time in years that Jim had to "come to his senses". After being in three wars, not much fazed him anymore. But the Brooklyn bridge was a national landmark, the threat of terrorism was eradicated a while ago by the Purge Act of 2008, and it was practically a certainty that the Koreans couldn't invade America without them knowing. Even if they did, they wouldn't be able to get as far East as the East coast, let alone pull off something this big.
None of it added up.
Jim finally came to when he noticed Vincent asking for orders. Good soldier, he was. Jim had a strange feeling that none of them were going to last the night. Quickly summoning as much composure as he could, Jim barked out orders.
"Orders were to find survivors, we'd best get to it. Risko, get on the gun, take down anything that get close enough to make you feel uncomfortable. You, drive, Uay... what the hell was that."
The four of them each heard a loud thump and the humveee shook slightly. Getting out of the car through the passenger side door, Jim kept his finger on the trigger of his rifle.
Sunddenly something grabbed his ankle and bit into it.
"ACK!!! SON OF A BITCH!"
Jim looked down and saw that something that could have been a middle aged man at one point was ripping chunks out of his right leg with his teeth. He pointed his rifle down and fired three shots at its head. It stopped moving, but Jim didn't want to take any chances. He dove back into the car and shut the door behind him.
Looking out the window he saw that there was a vast mob of them walking towards. There seemed to be a man in front of them controlling the horde but he didn't want to stick around to see exactly what was going on.
"Vincent," said Jim, and he never called anyone by their first name, "Drive!"
TAG: Vincent, Kelly, Mark
Location: Next to the Brooklyn Bridge
Pestilence watched the black humvee drive away. He had seen one of his minions bite the man who appeared to be their leader. Meaning, (after the rest of the millitary exploded on the bridge) the last of the millitary resistance would be killed by their own zombie captain within five or so hours. He heard several other explosions in the distance, confirming that all bridges and tunnels into and out of the city had been destroyed. The city was now a death trap.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man crawling away from the wrekage of the bridge. He could tell it was no Zombie when it wouldn't respond to his telepathic commands.
"So..." he said to himself, "we've got ourselves a live one."
He decided not to have his horde eat this one alive, at least not yet. His other ability hadn't been put to good use in too long.
Pestilence made a pair of tight fists and held them for a few seconds, as he opened them, balls of fire laid in his palms. As he threw them at the man, they became one and got bigger and bigger as they drew nearer to him like a snowball rolling down a hill. The man struggled to get away but it was no use. As the fireballs engulfed him, his screams were deafening.
"He's all yours, boys," he said to his horde of undead that waited behind him. "I hope you don't mind your meat well-done."
IC: Paul Olsen
Loft Apartment, NYC
Paul Olsen sipped his Drambuie and watched the ball start to drop.
Times Square was within walking distance, but crowds had started to gather from 5 pm onwards. Paul and his old classmate, Mark Delfry, had decided to stay in Mark?s apartment instead.
A thuddering noise steered Pauls attention away from the flat-screen Television for a moment.
?That?s just McTyre?s bar. Tying one off. They?re so drunk they probably don?t realize it isn?t quite midnight yet.?
Paul nodded. ?Yeah.?
?You sure you don?t want to go down there?? Mark asked, swirling a Long island in the kitchen.
?Nahh. Especially now. Too crowded, too drunk down there. They?ll be puking and passing out soon.?
The ball had descended about half-way. The cheers from the street and the pub began to crescendo.
Paul wasn?t sure quite what possessed him to come all the way out to New York City. Certainly it was t see a friend, and ostensibly it was to ring in the new year Properly. In Times square. Yet here he sat, drunk, in a friends apartment, while everyone else made merry outside.
He raised his glass and counted down.
?3? 2? 1! Happy New Year!? he roared, and glugged the rest of the Drambuie.
Fireworks gave ghost light to the sky, and he heard the popping outside the windows. On the Television, it cross-faded back and forth between the fireworks, the hapy revelers, and the professional faces who were hired to host the thing. Paul didn?t even know who they were this year.
They cut to a shot of a camera just in front of the police barricade, where dozens of party animals screamed greetings at the unblinking eye of the lens to mom, dad, siblings, significant others, friends.
Of a sudden, the camera tilted sideways and fell to the ground. The director quickly cut to a crane shot of the square.
There was something wrong.
The crowd was no longer milling in a way congruent with new ytears eve. There seemed to be? waves. Yes, waves of people. Like Ripples. Some people were starting to rush in various directions. Paul peered forward as the hosts, who were not newsmen, began to grope for words as somebody yelled into their earbuds.
?Mark, check this out! Something?s happening.?
?What is it, terrorists??he said, stepping into the room
On the screen, a camera crew on the ground was catching New York police officers attempting to restore order. Panicked party-goers crashed through the blue barricades and swarmed over and past the cops. The camera crew was jostled and nearly carried along with the wave, but managed to get hold of itself and swung round to see what had caused the panic.
A long line of figures were walking after the fleeing revelers. There was something very wrong with their look.
Paul shot to his feet and went to the window. Already people were running here too. Panic is more infectious than Ebola.
?I think we better? do something.?
Mark replied distantly after several seconds.
?Like get out of here. I?ve a gut feeling this is a quarantine situation at best.? Paul said, pulling on his jacket.
IC: Daniel Keyes
Dan nodded softly and slipped the rags into the bottles before dipping the tip of the rags in some tequila. He placed the ten moltovs on the counter, standing up and placing the lighter next to them. "There you go Dale. Do you want me to make more?"
Daniel looked around the bar lightly, spotting the woman by the counter. She was terrified, and he couldn't blame her. He was scared to death right now. Daniel gently touched her shoulder. "Hey, maybe you should come back here behind the counter, help me make some more of these, and toss them at those ugly things."
Tag: Dale, Arkady, Jason, anyone else in the bar
IC: Vincent Miller
Weapon: M16 Assault Rifle
Ammo: 360 Bullets
"Vincent," said Jim, and he never called anyone by their first name, "Drive!"
"Jesus christ!" Vincent quickly slammed on the accelerator, the humvee's tires spinning lightly before taking off down the road. He looked at Jim briefly. "Captain, you alright Captain?"
Vincent grimaced as he ran over one of those things, blood and other gross substances smearing on the windshield. He flipped on the wipers after the creature fell off and looked at Jim again. "Captain we should get your foot bandaged up." Vincent turned his attention to the road again, flipping the wipers back off once the windshield had been decently cleaned. He slowed down enough so that the car wouldn't spin out of control, looking back at Kelly and Mark.
"Hey, you guys have the medical kit back there?"
Tag: Jim, Kelly, Mark