The Furry Forums
Creative Arts and Media => Roleplay => Serious RP => Topic started by: Ryan Naismith on February 10, 2015, 06:31:13 AM
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"Day six........Knox County..............army...........camps..................relatives..............citizens.......... ......return home...............forcibly dispersed. The President..........statement.... ....calm...........Republicans..........quick to attack...............agenda.........communication...........no fly zone...............................nature...........outbreak.........US forces..........crowded streets...townsfolk.........living....normal."
The Black furred shepherd sighed, turning his head away from the radio. Just about the only thing he could guess would be fully true would be that the government would be forcibly dispersing someone. The rest of it? Lies. Things in Knox county, in his home town of Muldraugh, Were most assuredly not normal, by any stroke of the word. He too a brief look outside his window. Those streets were crowded, alright. But not with anything that had half a damned mind. Those things out there, All they wanted was to eat him. And they would pound on his safe-house doors day and night until they got what they wanted. There had been multiple times when he had considered giving himself to them, to be rid of their incessant moaning. Or at least to not be able to process it other than a signal for food. But the idea of being one of them, of the walking dead, scared him. To roam the countryside searching for his meal was something he did not want to do. Granted, he would likely be doing that in a few week's time, but he had the luxury of deciding between a squirrel and a child.
The shepherd sighed again, watching he mindless ghouls amble aimlessly about for a moment before picking up his rifle, and plodding over to his HAM radio.
"Hello, hello, hello!" he sad into the microphone "This is Marion Sibley, Broadcasting from 788 Redford street in Muldaugh. Anyone there, I'd Rather like it if you could come over. I've got a special spot all warmed up for ya! Especially if you are a lady. Or a guy. Or whatever, please, just come here, yeah?" He let out a small chuckle, invisible to the Microphone
"Anyways, my daily schedule dictates that I spend an hour or two on this radio. So yeah, I'll be here, waiting. For anyone, really."
He sighed, pulling out his AR-15 and running through a step-by step cleaning process into the microphone just to talk. To keep him sane. which he needed, he really needed.
((OOC thread on the way!))
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As Jon was boarding up his iron reinforced door, he could hear the sounds of those "creatures" growing in number and proximity. He suddenly got the feeling that with no where else to go, this was the last day for him. Suddenly his radio receiver turned to life, and a voice hard to hear, yet clear enough to understand. Not having a microphone for it, he took parts from around his house and Jurry rigged one up for temporary use. As soon as he plugged it in he heard a loud noise that sounded like a rifle to off. Taking the chance that he could still be reached, " Hello?! Are you ok, or at least alive? I just need something to know that this trip will be worth the effort. ". Said Jon as he know sits waiting for the voice on the other end be heard.
-
Marion's eyes widened. Some actually answered! Someone was alive! "O-oh yeah I'm here, I'm here! Like I said before, 788 Redford street."
He paused a moment, choking back tears. It had been less than a week, but each and every one of those days had been alone. He definitely wanted some sentient contact.
"I'm safe here. Un-wounded." He paused a moment, realizing that that person could be a bandit, lying to gauge of stealing his things would be worth it. "a bit low on supplies... But I've got something. I'll break out my old whiskey bottle for ya!"
-
The radio whiz zed to life once again, confirming the voice's location and fact of being alive. Jon responded; "I think I might need that whiskey by the time I get there, I think am going to die if I stay here, I'll be in my way by 3 AM to make sure these things don't get me. Hopefully I do-" the radio broke into an explosion of sparks and plastic. The only thing tha he could do was head on over once it go to be dark time. The alarm started beeping at 3 AM. As soon as it started he threw it out he window inhopes tha the batteries would last long enough for them to be attracted to it. Thankfully 3 hours of plans in the working had paid off allowing him to make the sprint the the man 3 blocks down. As he approached the adress he made sure they didn't notice him yet. He thenknocked one of he side windows. Hopefully his was the right place.
-
"Alright!" he said, smiling. Three A-"
He was cut off all of the sudden by a loud crash, and then the person stopped talking for no apparent reason.
"h-hello?"
He sighed, shaking his head and quickly assembling his assault rifle. The best he could do would be to wait until three AM, when the person said he would arrive.
He had accidentally fallen asleep, and was awoken by a knocking noise on a window near him. He drew the hood on his anorak, and walked over to him, his rifle trained on the man's head
-
As Jon knocked a second time the window opened but this time all he could see was the barrel of a rifle. He stepped back a bit, then whisper yelled, "Hey, it's me from the radio, I don't know if this is the right place, so if you don't know what I'm talking about then i'll leave." Jon stood there waiting for an answer but didn't didn't get one so he moved into the dark more so he couldn't be identified if this was the wrong house."Hope fully this is the right place..." He said to himself as he sat down on the grass watching the creatures move across the road, and making sure the man by the window was still there.
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"In." He said simply, his hood obscuring his face "though this doesn't mean that I trust you. That, my friend, will take time." He lowered the rifle, though he still kept it aimed in his general direction
As you climb in, the first thing you see of his kitchen is that his house is furnished in a rather Spartan manner. Most of the wooden tables had been cannibalized to form wooden planks used to shore up his windows, a few camping stools spread about the room, most of them near the concrete countertops. You also notice that various bits of glassware line the windowsills, likely to act as a warning if any of the barricades are broken.
"Follow." He said, walking to a storage area lined with various cans of various things, from ammunition To baked beans.
-
As Jon followed the mysterious man he caught a glimpse of the radio if which was used to talk to him. Thus confirming that this was the right place, but why was he being so hostile? As he walked farther into the house it still stayed quite dark, not allowing him to see the appearance of the survivor, or Jon himself. But as they walked closer to a storage room, the light finally grew brighter and Jon could see that the survivor on the radio was a black German Shepherd, which Also most likely meant that he could see that Jon was a red about 8' tall Feral, Western dragon. They stopped a the entrance of the storage room, which was stocked with beans and ammo, mostly. "So, where'd you get the supplies to be able to be so well stockpiled? Or were you just a bean enthusiast?"
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- two years ago -
"I officially anounce that this is the best celebration for a promotion ever." Liam decreed in an offical sounding voice. The resturant was starting to wind down exept for his own table where his friends had gathered.
"Look at Liam, you would think that he just got made head of the company the way he celebrates." Said a rather fluffy red fox, "How much are you actually making now?"
"About 25 cents more than my previous wage. But I get a fancy new office on the third floor behind the broom closet." Liam said with a smirk. He was still wearing his Office CO uniform. The dull grey shirt and black sweater vest clung tightly to his slender and rather lanky form.
"That doesnt sound like much..."
"It's enough to buy some dessert. Anyone want any?" Liam was greeted by a collected moan as his party clutched at their stomachs and avoided making eye contact with their empty plates.
"Honestly Liam, how can you still be hungry?" Asked a near by female pine marten with the same fur pattern he had, dark brown with a splash of red orange along his cheeks and under belly. It ran in the family.
"Hey, nothing wrong with endulging yourself everyonce in a while. And its a celebration so the calories don't count."
"Tell that to your gut, "his sister wrapped her arm around his neck and ruffled his head fur. "You are going to 'self endulge' yourself into oblivion you little rascal.
Liam laughed and pushed her away, "Yeah, like that will ever happen..."
-present day-
Leaning against the brick wall of the building with one paw and clutching at his chest with the other Liam tried to regain his breath.
It was only a miracal that Liam Grey had survived for so long. The only reason he was not torn to peices yet was simply due to his cautious nature. It certainly wasn't his physical prowess that saved him.
Liam would have described himself as 'pleasently plump'. He was one order of curly fires away from being labeled as morbidly obese before the out break began, surviving this long into the outbreak hasnt shaved as much weight off of his waist line as he would have thought...or hoped.
The very fat pine marten covered him self in a light blue dress shirt which had become torn and soiled. He didnt bother buttoning it any more and so left his midriff exposed.
His waist was adorned with a pair of cargo shorts and a blue and green messenger bag was tightly strapped to his back.
The marten craned his head around in a way only a marten or weasel could. His expression was paniced from the soft moaning he heard behind him. It seemed they had picked up his scent.
Finding his second wind Liam forced himself to move on. This radio brodcast better not be some kind of recording for all the trouble he was going through to get there.
He swore he would be very cross with someone if they got him devoured by zombies because they were too lazy to turn off their station before they were eaten...
-
"Neither. Got lucky, found the house." he smiled briefly "owner was stumbling around with a missing arm... So I assume he gave it to me in his will!" He sighed, shaking his head.
He dropped the rifle into one hand, sliding the hood off of his anorak as he did so, offering the other for the dragon to shake
"Marion Sibley, Former police officer. You?"
Though he still didn't trust this dragon. And even though he may be bigger than him, he had a gun. And that makes him the biggest man in the room, even if he was four feet tall. Which is how he wanted to handle this, letting that guy into his home. He wanted to seem like he knew what he was doing, that he wasn't messing around. All of which he was doing, but he wanted to make sure the dragon knew it.
-
Jon could tell that there was still some hostility in the room, but for the most part it had dissipated. As he shook the Marion's hand he replied, "Jon Diem, former Engineer. Now, how about that offer of whiskey? I think I need a nice hard drink to comprehend this past week..."
-
The moans were getting louder. Despite the panic building up in his heart the fat bellied marten kept himself at a slow pace. He was so close to finding a safe place to stay Liam didn't want to blow it by turning a corner to quickly and plowing into a horde of unseen zombiee on the other side.
Using a key chain flash light and a map the marten came through a small alley way. Peering cautiously around the corner he saw what he thought must be the building he heard on the radio.
It was good fortune that he was staying in a car at the time of the broadcast. Cars were under rated defensive positions in his oppinion. If you could find one unlocked, or find the remains of the owner near by, as rare as that was, they can make good hiding spots and most zombies had a hard time busting a car window with their bare hands.
Most.
Having found a car with ite keys still in the ignition Liam had listen to the car radio whrn the broadcast went out. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before the zombies got him on his own, Liam found himself here.
He planned to scope out the place first then enter.
The zombies coming up the alley behind him how ever pushed him to use plan B.
Dashing to the door the Marten banged on it with his fist in a clear shave and a hair cut pattern.
"Open up open up open up..." he said under his breath.
-
The sentence was interrupted by a series of loud knocks on the door. "Uh oh. Either there are zombies trying to get in, or someone really needs to get in. I suggest we go look and see." Jon said as he started to slowly walk towards the heavily boarded door.
-
Marion nods, thumbing off the saftey on his rifle He quickly rushes to the door, and hearing human speech, opens it. He yanks the fat Martin inside of his safehouse, slamming the door shut behind him. Then, he rushes to the second floor, scanning the area to see how many zombies were following him. Fifteen. He could take them. But his rifle would make too much noise, which is why he had a silencer. But though it definitly silences the shots, They still make quite a bit of noise.
He could have the two people he just met help him.
yes, that's what he will do. but, he has no idea as to their skill with a rifle. or if they would just panic, and do something wrong. which is why he had beta blockers. They would reduce their heart-rate, make them calmer. yes, that would work.
So he ran to his medicine cabinet, grabbed two bottles of pills, then he rushed to his rifle room, grabbing two rifles. He would snpe them from the top of the house; he would likely be the best shot. so, without having said a word of his plan to either of them, he tosses them Kalashnikov style rifles, with two extra magazines. Silenced.
"Only shoot 'em if they get close!" he said "and take these Beta blockers!" Then, he ran back up stairs, and set up in his little hidey-hole, taking a first, measured shot at a lynx with half of her scalp flopping on her face, looking something like a twisted hood, complete with dripping ichor. The match grade .223 bullet hits her right in the skull, tumbles through, creating a fine, pink mist behind her.
-
Liam squeeks in terror as the door opens suddenly. The dog pulls him in so quickly he almost thinks that he had just been grabbed by a zombie.
The sides of the pine marten's stomach graze both sides of the door as he is pulled to, realitive safety.
Standing in the room a bit awkwardly in the corner Liam manages to blurt out, "Oh thank all that is holy that you are both alive! You will jot believe what I had to go through to-" The pine marten then has to scramble to keep the gun from falling to the floor as its tossed to him.
Liam stands there for a long moment, assessing the situation he has found himself in. Immidietly upon entering a room a crazy looking dog he has just met has tossed him a gun and told him to take a box of pills. Maybe the dog has been taking too many of these 'beta blockers' as the lable reads, maybe the dog is trusting, maybe he is just insane.
Either way the pine marten can only stammer, "W-what?"
And then he hears the first shot echo off. Even with the silencer the gun shot makes him jump.
Just what did he get himself into this time?
-
As Jon was handed a rifle and pills that read 'Beta Blockers' he quickly put the pills on a counter and ran to a window. He usually used his heart rate, and adrenal flow to his advantage in situations like this. After shooting the rifle once he got the feel for this brand of rifle, it was the very stereo-typical Kalashnikov style rifle, which he had never used. As the once average citizens moved closer to the house he fired a round. He only had 7 bullets in his clip total, meaning he was going to need ammo, and soon. When he heard the heart dropping *click* of the empty cartridge, he got back from the window and started to run upstairs until he saw that Liam was standing there looking at the gun. "Are you going to do something with that, or stare at it, and wait for those meat-bags out there to get us?" Jon yelled as he ran back down the stairs, "Take the pills, put the stock of the rifle into your shoulder aim, release the safety, then fire. If you didn't know already. Or we can all sit here and wait for them to tear the door down, what will it be?"
-
In just about as many seconds, he had dropped three more targets, a wolf with an eye hanging out of it's socket, a fox with a missing tail, and a bull. but, as he expected, the silencer still attracted some, about six or seven.
If his ammo held out, he could hold out for a while. but, he likely wouldn't. So he paced himself, being very careful with his shots, making sure that he didn't miss. Then, with a dreadful clicking noise, his next shot didn't shoot. He knew he had the ammo... his rifle had fired twenty-five bullets, and he had loaded the magazine with twenty-eight.
Then, his rifle exploded. It was a small explosion, that left little more than superficial scars, but an explosion nonetheless. and that meant it was loud.
"Ah...F*ck!" He curses, patting himself down to make sure the wounds were as superficial as he though they were.
-
Liam seemed to snap to attention. His eyes were wild with fear. "Who knew they sold courage in a bottle these days?" He chittered noisily. Not even he knew why he was joking around at a time like this. Finding a window the pine marten chose a target, took aim, and cursed loudly after hesitated. It took a moment to remind himself that these were not people, not anymore.
Taking a breath he pulled the trigger. He was surprised by the kick but even more surprised at actually hitting the zombie. It was a pitty the bullet passed harmlessly through the chest.
Realitivly speaking.
The bullet may not have killed the thing but it still damaged the creature, breaking bones and tearing muscle.
And yet it still lumbered forward.
Liam gulped. He aimed a little higher and fired again. And once more before the undead abomination fell over dead.
"Hey! I got one!" He began to shout when he heard the small explosion up stairs. "What in the blazes?"
-
“I’m…okay!” Marion shouted, shaking his head. It had received some glancing shrapnel wounds, but nothing a little peroxide and bandages wouldn’t fix.
That is, if he managed to live long enough to use them.
He took a brief moment from checking himself over to check through the window he was shooting through. As he predicted, the infected were coming out of the woodworks
Marion cursed loudly, rushing back to his armory, which was thankfully on the second floor. The food and ammo however, were on the first.
“carry as much ammo as you can up to the second floor!” he shouted, taking two ammo-cans of .223 to the top of the stairs, quickly rushing back down to pick up some more. Ignore the zombies for now, bring the ammo up!”
He shouted various other frantic instructions as he continued to ferry more and more ammo of various calibers (mostly .223 and 7.62x39) to the top of the stairs, preparing for a siege. Which is what this was going to be, he knew.
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( ooc Sorry for the wait. Ill post over the week. Is it just us now? How shall we explain the other players absence? O.o)
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((let's just say he walked by a barricade and zombies grabbed him
Post Merge: April 16, 2015, 05:18:43 PM
((well I'm taking control of jon, to kill him.))
"H-help!" someone screamed from downstairs. It was the scream of a man who knew he was dead. He couldn't tell if it was Jon or the fat guy, but he sure as hell hoped it was the fat guy. He would likely be quite the drain on his resources, and getting him back in shape would be quite the chore.
Marion cursed loudly as his hopes were dashed. It was NOT the fat guy. it was Jon, the engineer. He looked around briefly for the rifle that Jon had likely dropped, and after not finding it, let out another, much longer and louder stream of profanities.
"God...Fat*ss! get over here, give me your rifle!"
The dragon's eyes widened, but he made no move. he knew he was dead. The large bite mark on his chest proved that.
-
(( XD lol i was going to make his fate ambiguous so he could join back up later on if je wanted :3 but this works since we havnt hewrd from him in a while XD))
Liam fired once into the hoard, he chambered another bullet and fired again. "You got a back way out of this deqth trap?" Liam tosses the gun to the dog and readies his...wait, where was his hatchet?! The plump pine marten looms around the room and spots his trusty hatchet, at the feet of a zombie.
It fell out during the scuffle! "Oh blast..." liam said as he tried to leap behind the shepard.
Yes...Liam is certainly living up to his expectations of uselessness.
-
"I'm sorry..." Marion said. It was really all he could say. Maybe if he had known him better, he could have said 'I'll miss you.' or ' I liked how you cooked pie.' or some other null phrase.
But he didn't. And he couldn't lie to a dying man.
So, he brought the stock of the polish AK-47 copy to his shoulder.
Align the front sight post with the rear sight post... then align the two over your target
He aligned the two sight nooks over the dragon's head, and blinked
"I'm sorry..."
He said again, before pulling the trigger.
-
Liam flinched as he watched yet another good person meet their end to the horde.
Then the plump pine marten remembered that they were about to join in their fallen comrades fate if they didn't get out of here!
"We are over run! You got a back way out of this place?" The marten asked in a justifiably terrified voice.
-
"Sh!T!" Marion cursed, adding to the veritable stream of curses spewing out of his mouth by this point "It's a siege! only way we're gonna win this is by shooting our way out!"
The former police officer took in long, ragged breaths. it was all he could do to keep from hyperventilating. which would be bad.
"Fat@ss!" The shepherd screamed "Get as much ammo as you can, and ferry it up to the stairs! once you've made three trips, call me! Then I'll come upstairs!"
The police officer grunted as he threw the steel magazine of his Kalashnikov onto the ground, fishing a new one from his pouches, shoving it into the rifle, and quickly resuming shooting at the approaching horde
-
"Sure sure, let me do all the heavy lifting." The marten said gruffly as he hurried about his task. Up and down the stairs he went, carrying ammo and supplies.
He wasn't a survivalist by far, but he had seen the movies. So that counted for something right? Zombies were not very smart creatures. He hoped at least. If they could only distract the horde long enough to escape.
The marten paused at the top of the stairs as he weighed a box of ammo in his paw. "Hey Shepard! You got a bottle of whisky and a lighter? I'm going to do something stupid."
-
"good god NO!" The shepherd shouted back "That's just fVcking moronic!" Marion paused, taking down a walker with a missing face, and another with stubs for arms
"We draw them all to one side of the house, then climb out the second floor of the other when it's relatively clear! that way we can use the place after the Zeds disperse!
-
Well, so much for that idea, thinks Liam. Paws on his hips the marten shouted back, "Well if you got any bright ideas on how to do that, I'm all ears. It's not like we can just toss empty bottle of beer out the window while calling for the zombies to dinner now can we?"
A moment passes. "I'll get things to toss out the window. You just keep that back rout clear of zombies."
(Gah! So sorry for the wait D: so so sorry! I dont know how I missed this!?)
-
Pat was holed up in her own building at the time the fight started. She was trying to get a little rest because she had been walking for the past few days getting back from the barricaded border. this whole trip was a waste and now she was probably going to die. Armed with nothing but her dead grandfather's shotgun and a few golf clubs she was just buying time till the inevitable happened. If she at least had a friend or two maybe sh-... he train of thought was broken by the sound of a explosion. It wasn't too far away and if that was the case there might be a survivor. She grabbed the shotgun and made sure her bag had her supplies in it. Check. She needed to hurry or she might just miss them.
-
As Marion fought, blasting away at the encroaching horde, he realized one thing.
He was going to die here.
He looked at the fat pine marten.
He would too.
But...
If he just... happened to be nearby when the marten was throwing something out the window, preferably something particularly heavy... well, a small push in the right direction would be all that was needed.
Nightmares would plague him for the rest of his existence... but at least he would live to have those nightmares.
and, right now, with the whitewashed walls seemingly closing in around him, any hope for survival, however wrong, degenerate, or immoral, was the reason why he wouldn't turn his rifle around to blow his own brains out, spare himself from the fate of being torn apart and eaten by a thousand ravenous ghouls.
-
Pat was running as fast as she could being careful not to run head first into one of the living impaired. as she got closer to the explosion she could hear gunshots. they must be in a real jam if they were having such a big battle. the gunshots sounded just to her left now and she was pretty low in breath. taking a few good breaths she checked all around her to make sure there was no zeds in her vicinity. with a small group a few minuts out at their pace she just poked her head around the corner only t see the horror of a hoard assaulting the building. she knew that they wouldn't make it but she wasn't too keen on sacrificing herself. but leaving them alone would haunt her for as long as she could think. she looked back at the nearby group of dead and made her decision. she ran out and started yelling as loud as her lungs could manage. "HEY! ROT-FOR-BRAINS! OVER HERE! FRESH TASTY MEAT HERE!" She felt her throat get hoarse with every word she yelled. she knew it wasn't going to help much so she grabbed the shotgun with two hands and ran a little closer to the hoard. she pressed the but up against her shoulder and aimed at the group of undead. with a squeeze of the trigger she fired both barrels at once. many of the zeds fell over like dominoes with the amount of buckshot that was in that blast. there might have been a few dead but that wasn't the point. soon after she saw the zeds closest to her turn to face her and she could only assume that the rest would soon follow. she turned to run and made a beeline towards the nearest house.
-
Liam was leaning half out the window, tossing chairs, lamps, anything thqt would make a noise and cause the zombies to come to THIS side of the house. His head twists around to the sound of gun shots in the street. There is a movement in the horde below as its pack mentality (if lumbering undead could be considered a pack) slowly starts to realize they are under attack from a new source. A tasty fleshy source.
"H-hey! Look! Someone out there is helping us!" The marten's tail begins to wag as he turns back to the shepard, "I say we make a run for it out the back. This is our only chance!"
Liam never knew that his new companion was so close to feeding him to zombies....
-
Marion blinked as he heard the gunshots, at first brushing them of as his own, the sting of cordite heavy in the air.
But that was a shotgun. He was about ready to give the marten a good shove when Liam jerked his head around, Marion just barely able to pass it off as sweeping for hostiles.
"Into the attic!" He hissed, scrambling to pull down the ladder, quickly pulling himself up.
"Not a sound... with luck... we should be in the clear soon."The shepherd took a moment to collect himself while staring out a window, not waiting to see if the pine marten followed him. "I think there's some rope we can climb down... if you can climb at all, that is. If you can't, just wait here. I'll come back for you."
-
Pat ducked into a house two buildings down from where the horde was crouded around. She opened and closed the door behind her to buy a few extra seconds. She ran upstairs and locked herself in the bedroom useing a wardrobe to barricade the door. She then took a quick glance around the room to see if there was a zed inside the room. not seeing any or hearing any she took the time to reload. It was a break action shotgun so with a firm push on the barrels they swiveled at the handle and the empty shells popped out. Grabbing two fresh buckshot shells she reloaded the gun.
-
Liam rolls his eyes but laughs as he climbs the ladder. "Don't worry about me mate. Do you really think a beast like me would have survived this long with out...with out...one sec." Liam sucked in his gut, pulling himself into the attic. He quickly pulled up the ladder. "With out reason?" He chuckles again, "I can take care of myself...unlike my last group...bleeding savages they were, to pre occupied with their own survival to actually work together."
The marten pulls up the ladder and locks the attic door. Peering at the shepard he rubs the back of his neck, "Thanks for...for saving me. You don't know how good it is to find a friendly face after..." the marten's words trail off and he gestures to the walls, or really the zombies beyond. "Who do you think saved us there? I know it wasn't someone I know..."
-
"No idea. But whoever it is, they're extremely brave, extremely stupid, or both." Marion sighed. He felt guilty. Why did he feel guilty? Its not like he actually did it. And he thought he was going to die. People get desperate, do stupid things when they think they might die. But any of that didn't seem to help.
-
Pat sat down on the bed in the room. With all this running she was tuckered right out but she couldn't sleep just yet. The people she saved might just come over to see if she was ok. But she couldn't hear anything through her panting and with all of that adrenaline coursing through her causing her head to pound to the pace of her rapidly pounding heart. Unaware to her there was a zed under the bed.
-
"Don't forget armed. Even if they saved us that still makes them dangerous." The marten sits down among the clutter of the attic. He rubs at his eyes, "Just listen to me now...have I really gotten so parinoid?" The fat marten shakes his head, "I don't think I introduced myself. I can't remember if I did or not. I'm Liam Grey. Also...I'm...sorry about the dragon person...if you knew him..." he looks somewhat embarrassed. "Thank you for not leaving me to die...the first party I was in did that. They just...just left camp early one morning with all the supplies." The marten says saddly.
He adds on a different note. "I wonder if the people who saved us made it..."
----
As the bed sinks in a pair of eyes glow yellow in the dark below it. For Tod Greenwhich the bed seemed an almost natural hiding place after the zombies came through his front window. The brown wolf had hid himself away under the bed, rocking back and forth, unable to move, unable to think strait. He resolved himself to staying quiet until the monsters in his home went away.
Eventually the zombies did but bh then the poor wolf had fallen into a deep sleep from which he never awoke, the virus stopping his heart days ago after it entered through a small bite wound to his paw.
The world....looked different. A dissorientating mess of sights, colors, smells. One in particular stood out.
MEAT.
And it was close...very close...
The creature once known as Todd let out a small groan. He....IT crawled out from under the bed part way, sniffed the air, then twisted around to see a tail hanging over the bed. "Gl-A-a-A-RG." It let out before grabbing for the huskies tail.
-
Pat heard the moan and froze stopping her breath and her heart for a second. did she really miss a zed in the room this was bad. she quickly looked around the room and grabbed the lamp on the night stand. it was something more modern so it wouldn't kill but it would give her the opening she would need to get one of her golf clubs. as soon as she grabbed it her tail was grabbed so she swung the lap as hard as she could towards the creatures head praying that it would let go.
-
Marion grunted "Sibley, Marion Sibley. Just in case i haven't introduced myself either... fairly sure i did. "
He went to pat down his chest carrier, checking for any spare magazines. He found none.
After his brief search he added on "Don't know. an extra hand to help us out wouldn't be too bad. and they did kinda save our lives, so we do owe them at least an invitation in."
Come to think of it... he didn't know how much ammo he had in his current clip either.
He cursed himself silently, pulling out the 30 round steel magazine, hefting it to feel its weight. it had... very little. almost empty. But it did have some. which was good.
He grabbed the rope, searching for a good attachment point, somewhere near the window. If he were rappelling, as he had been trained to do in his career as a SWAT officer, he would have his attachment point slightly ahead of his point of descent. but, he had no such luck. He didn't even have the proper equipment for rappelling either.
so, he hooked it around a sturdy looking wooden pillar, likely a load bearing beam of some sort. He tied it in a sturdy knot, giving it a few tugs at first, then leaning his whole weight backwards.
It was fine. Even if it did break, he would probably not fall to far. at most, a sprained ankle.
-
Liam watched the dog go about his business securing a rope to the window. Being a marten Liam did poses the ability to climb. Leading a secular life however didnt give him too many chances to do that however.
This was either a good idea or Liam was just going to end up breaking his neck on the way down. Or worse break something less fatal and then wait for the zombies to come.
"Are you...are you sure you don't want to wait for the zeds to clear out first?" It was wishfull thinking and he knew it. Zeds never cleared out. They got your scent, heard a sound, saw you in the shadows and then they kept coming after you.
Period.
With a resigned sigh the marten asked, "You want me to go first? I would rather have a better shot with that rifle covering me if something goes wrong."
Liam could only hope their new party member was doing ok. How much trouble could they be in?
-----
The lamp does nothing to the zombie, it doesn't even blink as it crashes against its head. "Glaaaar..." the wolf growls in a low voice as it keeps a firm grip on the huskies tail. The creature had been realitivly un mauled, an unusual trait for a zombie, but clearly dead.
The wolf was wearing a simple yellow T shirt with the picture of a happy face on it. One of those annoying emote styled happy faces with the big gasping mouth and the eyes facing off to the left.
The wolf zombie growled again as it tried to reach for the huskies neck with its free claw, what ever logic that fueled it forward wanting to bite the dog in the neck rather than an eaqually suitable limb.
"Gl-uuUurg..."
-
Pat wanted to kick it back bit it was just too fast. She stopped it's advance by narrowly grabbing it's reacing arm and getting her other arm in the way of it's neck by useing her forearm. Her hoodie would protect her from scratches because it has a decent amount of thickness to it. But she was panicking and she knew it. She started to look around maybe it might give her a idea maybe some hope maybe... her shotgun! it was just out of reach of her left hand but she wouldn't be able to grab it without getting injured. But she couldn't do nothing there must be something she could do.
-
(Going to post again here simply so I dont have to do it later and do liams :3 )
The zombie made no motion to suggest it cared what the husky used against it. Only if it could sink its teeth into the dog. The wolf's jaws snap at the husky. It pushes forward and bites at her again, its teeth snap together meer inches from her own muzzle. "GrrrRRrrGlrrowl." The wolf growls.
-
(Yeah let's finish this scuffle and wait for Shepherd.)
Pat filched every time it tried to bite her. the thing was much stronger than her so she had to resort to using her upper arm as a brace to hold the thing up. she needed space sneaking her leg up so she could push it away and when it was in place she used all her strength in all her her body to get the thing away and as soon as she couldn't feel the pressure on her left arm anymore she turned the push into a kick and reached for the shotgun rolling over it and off the bed as she did so landing on her stomach ready to get back up in under a second.
-
The re animated corpse of Tod makes a startled glorp noise as he is hurled backwards. The huskies tail slides from his paws as he tumbles off the bed.
Despite their nature in the movies the zombie doesn't take much time getting back to its feet. It flails its limbs about like an over turned bug before rolling onto its side. The zombies head twists until it can see Pat, its dead glazed over eyes locking onto her.
After a few days of decomposition the facial features have tightened, giving the wolf a perpetual snarling look. This time it unleashes a loud unearthly wail before lumbering forward towards the dog, claws out stretched, jaws open wide and ready to tear into its prey...
-
Pat heard the undead howl and pulled herself forward away from the creature as she got up. she ran to the wall strait in front of her and spun around slamming her back against it on she got close. she let the thing get closer as she prepared to unleash another blast. once it was just a few paces ahead of her she aimed at its chest pulled the trigger useing a single barrel. the blast would knock it over and if it wasn't dead she would have time to kill it that's for sure.
-
The un natural wail continued right until the shot gun went off. In complete defiance to holywood there was a surpriaing lack of gore, even as dozens of holes drilled through the creatures chest, limbs, and head.
After all, blood had long since stopped pumping through the body.
The zombie fell backward from the blast. It let out a series of weezey gasps as it slowly began to roll back onto its feet. This time much more slowly. Eventually it fell onto its belly and simply crawled closer to the husky. Occasionally it would stretchout its claws as if to grab at her, even when she was out of reach.
-
the utter defiance of the creature not wanting to die made Pat panic. she almost forgot that they do that. not wanting to waste anymore shots she grabbed the driver golf club that she carried with her and started to repeatedly beat the thing's skull. she wouldn't stop till the zed's skull broke apart. even then she would keep swinging for a little longer. and once she stopped she slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor balling up in her knees in shock to what just happened. she just knowingly beat something down to death making this her first knowledgeable kill. what has she become, she wasn't cut out for this, she just wanted everything to be normal again.
-
((Fuark, my wifi messed itself up and I was playing fallout, had no idea this topic got posted in cos i rely on taptalk >_>
-
(oh well... that's awkward...)
-
Bloodied and destroyed the re animated corpse of Tod lay still. Its silent, glossy eyes remaining transfixed on the husky as she slides down the way.
Then they move, locking knto her own.
"DAAAAAAAR!" The creature makes one final lunge forward, claws out stretched and ready to pull the husky towards its open maw.
It stops halway there as what ever synaps' still firing in its brain meet un avoidable damage. The zombie locks up, its claws twitching violently before it falls flat on its face. Remaining still forever.
Poor Tod...he was just as successful at making others zombies as he was avoiding them.
(Sorry. One last jump scare. Could not resist :3 switching back to liam next turn after shepard poses. :D)
-
(You're horrible)
Pat heard the Zeds final defiant moan an freaked out giving it another kick and ran towards a corner away from it. She stared at it unsure if it would move again. Then after what seemed like ages she sat down in the corner and balled up again this time a whimper could be heard.
-
((Aaaaaaaaaa I'm so sorry. Probably not gonna post today, cost imma be doing 4th of July stuff
-
(It's ok it's all on you now. No pressure or anything.)
-
(Lol im in no hurry. Rl before rp :3)
-
"Right... wish me luck, Liam..." the shepherd blew a nervous breath out of his muzzle, leaning halfway out the window. He was painfully reminded of how he had almost pushed the pine marten out of a window just like this. It caused him just a moments hesitation, then he threw himself out the window, a firm grip on the rope.
He hit the whitewashed outer wall with a light thump, looking around briefly to make sure he hadn't attracted much attention. He hadn't.
He gripped the rope tightly in his hands, scooting down one foot, then the other foot, then one hand, then the other hand. He repeated this process over and over again,slowly scooting down the wall.
The rope (obviously not meant for climbing) digging painfully into his hands. But it was nothing, he told himself, more as a psychological pain reliever than anything.
After what seemed like ages, he was a short hop from the grass. So he hopped off, quickly dashing in the direction he thought the shots came from, dodging and weaving between infected persons in various states of decay.
-
Liam watched the shepard slide down easily enough. "I think...I think I could do that..." he said although he was glad that he didn't have to try. After all he was much safer here in the attic than running about the darkened alley ways and streets.
After all, zombies couldn't climb.
There was a loud crash from the window across the room as a zombie thrust its head through the glass. The severely mauled beast had once been a squirrel. It growls at him as it continues to push itself through the window, breaking class and the wooden frame.
"Oh that is just not fair...." the marten whines. He backs away until his tail is pressed against the window behind him. Then again, staying here un armed with no food or supplies didn't sound like a good idea anyways.
Taking off his vest the marten wraps it around the rope before pulling himself through the window...and getting stuck at the waist. Liam tries to pull his fattened body through but it is wedged tight. "This is so not fair! This is so not fair!" Aware of the squirrel growing ever closer the marten holds his breath and sucks in his gut. Even then he has to wriggle to work himself out of the window, coming out with a resounding pop.
He twists around, planting his feet against the house he lets out a paniced yelp and leans away from the squirrel as it swipes at him."Gah!" He screams. "AAAH!" with out thinking he slides down the rope at a hurried page, it quickly burns through the vest in his paw...and the marten's weight eventually snaps the line from the roof about halfway down.
Liam doesn't have a chance to scream. He just falls like a sack of potatoes, landing hard on his back. "Oh blazes..." the marten rolls back and forth in pain, hopeing against hope that he didn't break something. He looks up and his eyes widen, his ears fall flat with fear to the sight of the squirrel falling after him!
He rolls to the side with a paniced chitter, the zombie landing with a sickening crash head first where he just was. "Gaaaaah!" He screams, he screams again when the broken mass of squirrel begins to crawl after him.
Picking himself up Liam quickly rushes after the shepard with a slight limp.
Back in the house the sounds of zombies increases...brought out side by the sound of falling beasts they begin to pour out of the back door at a slow but steady pace...
((Thqts twice now Liams weight nearly got him killed :3 I wonder if he will survive a third...XD))
-
((Hopefully not x3 he does seem to have a tendency to mess things up, lol. Probably has a luck of like, one. Maybe less.))
Marion heard a grunt, breaking glass, and then a thump, as if something fell. He ignored it, and kept on running. He needed to help his unknown partner... hopefully he, or she, wasn't as... "useful" as the Pine Marten had been. Besides, he consoled himself, the best way to see if he would survive, was to throw him into the deep end. If he died, so be it. If he lived, he would be ever more skilled.
Eventually, he reached the house where he thought the person had hid. The swarm of infected in front of him confirmed that.
He sighted his rifle over one of the infected...
BOOM!... BOOM!...click.
Click. Click.clickclick...crap.
with a savage growl, he flips the rifle around holding it by the hand guard , swinging it in a broad motion, like a baseball bat.
In it's savage arc, the buttstock hits the skull of a lynx with a satisfying smack, knocking the thing back. It didn't hurt it too much, but in its short, stumbling moment, that was just enough for him to burst through the front door. "Hello?" He calls out, slamming the door shut.
-
Pat kept sulking in her corner. She wondered if it was possible to get out of here. She wanted her handheld gaming console, her room anything but this living condition where death was just around the corner. Even seeing her biological parents would be better than this.
BANG!.. BANG! Pat cradled her head screaming. Did those things figure out how to use guns! Impossible! Then she heard something else it sounded like a "Hello". Pat's heart sank did one of those people she saved come here to save her. She couldn't be seen not like this she has always been tough and collected she couldn't show this whimpering little girl to anyone. She tried to stay quiet but she couldn't help but to continue crying she just wanted to be home.
-
"Hello?" He called out again, placing the rifle onto a table, looking around for a suitable weapon. If he swung his rifle again, the stock would crack, and the rifle would be rendered either useless, or highly inaccurate.
He found one in a heavy, steel crowbar. Not the best weapon. But it definitely had utility.
He blinked. Was that... sobbing? "Hello, you there?" He called out again "I'm here to help!"
-
Liam himself felt like crying like a little child. He wasn't even supposed to be in thie town!
Ironically he always liked zombie movies before he was actually in one. In all honesty thr marten didn't know why he was still alive. Weight aside, Liam was not much of a survivor. He hated camping and generally had no skills that worked in this scenario. Not unless Zombies could be killed by paperwork.
It was why the first group he found left him behind. Just...up and left him...no food, no supplies, just a note saying they were sorry but the needs of the group outweigh the individual and that he was a liability.
Ironically he found the party almost the same day. Out in the open woods. He wasn't sure what had happened...maybe they stumbled into a roaming horde during the night, reguqrdless there wasn't enough left of the party to re animate.
The marten feared that fate the most. Being...devoured by a horde of zombies was not on Liams list of prefured ways to bite the bullet.
So when he turned the corner and saw a zombies swarming the house ahead he skidded to a stop. The marten could hear the sounds of anothe rhorde swiftly approqching from where he came from. That gave him a narrow window to dodge to either the right or the left down the street.
"This is so not fair..." he gulped. He was going to be trapped!
(If someone wanted to spoof zombies to chase Liam or locations for him to hide in that would be fine. :3 if not I have a possible place Liam could hide :D)
-
The Timber Wolf, Steven Johnson had been a respectable man once, he had several children, and a loving husband.
But, that all changed when he ate them all. Now, the only thing he could think of, was meat, more and more of it. Which was ironic, because since he had been a vegetarian since the day he was born.
He saw a particularly meaty looking specimen in front of him, letting out a low moan, shuffling towards the pine marten as fast as his dead legs would carry him.
He wasn't even aware of the twenty or so other infected behind him. They smelled just like him. Bad eating.
-
And what good eating Liam would be. The marten fought the urge to scream as that would only draw more of the monsters to him, if the zombies moaning didn't do that first.
He stepped backward a ways then turned and ran to his left. Where did that dog GO? He couldn't have gotten far!
But alas there was no time to look for his new friend...or his remains...Liam really hoped it didn't come to that. There was more to survival than simply surviving. To know that he wasn't alone...that people still existed here... it was a hope that could drive a person onward.
Liam pushed a zombie out of his way as he ran past. He already knew from experience that he could run for one block strait before he tired out...two if he pushed it. He needed somewhere to hide...and fast...
-
The next two blocks were mostly commercial buildings, with a pie place, a bookstore, a pharmacy, and a smallish warehouse of some sort, at the end of the block, using Liam as a point of reference.
Meanwhile, Steven, the closest thing that the pack of infected had to a "leader" (if one could call it that), ambled after him, at a decent clip for a zombie.
-
Pat heard the person again. He must have been looking around for her hearing her crying. She tried taking a few deep breaths to calm herself a little after almost a minute she was notably better and she got up making sure she still that her weapons. But looking over the golf club you could tell it was done for with a bent shaft.
"Up..." she stopped herself because the voice came out a lot softer that it could not be heard. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Up here!" That was better.
But she still couldn't get out with the wardrobe in the way. So she started to drag it across the floor the free up the door way.
-
The shepherd quickly zeroed in on the door, with her dragging the Dresser, it was easy. Which likely meant that the infected could hear it to. So he knocked on the door he thought was it, glancing behind his back.
"Come on... We have to go... you really saved our ass back there. Infected should have cleared. You're welcome to stay, go, whatever."
-
Pat almost jumped out her skin when she heard the knocking on her door. but quickly she realized it wasn't a zed and calmed right down. before opening the door she wiped her face down to remove any tears or snot that could have leaked out on her sleeve. after that she opened the door when she had enough room slip through and avoided eye contact with the person she saved mainly because she didn't want to show her puffy eyes because of her crying. besides that she was grateful she wasn't alone anymore.
"your welcome i was hoping i wasn't too late but let's not waste time here and go, i'll be right behind you." she said in a slightly shaky voice.
-
Marion elected not to say anything about her puffy eyes, and the fact that he had herd her sobbing. He simply offered her a consolatory smile, giving her a brief hug.
"Hey, hey, I'm here for ya."
-
Pat was surprised by the random hug and said cleared her throat again and all of her edge came back. "Don't touch unless given permission and we don't have time for this. I didn't get to check anywhere."
Which in all reality was true. She just ran inside and shot upstairs. She pushed herself out of the hug and started walking.
-
Marion chuckled, passing her the crowbar he had lifted from the storage closet, to replace her bent golf club. With luck, he wouldn't need it. And plus, it always helps to be nice to strangers.
-
Liam leans against the wall of the nearest building, desperately panting and clutching his chest. The marten glances behind him to see the zombie wolf hot on his trail and gulps. Forcing himself forward Liam looks for a quick and easy hiding place to secure himself if. He makes a mental note of the drug store and the pie store's location as one could be usefull later on if he got sick, the other reminds him that he hasn't eaten today.
He may very well be eaten today though if he doesn't get his fat tail somewhere safe, Liam curses himself. Why did he chose a secular life? Why not go for sports?
The bookstore proves to be closer but he learned from hard experience that places like stores are either A. Locked behind bullet proof glass, or B. Were open during the out break and were over run by zombies. He doesn't feel like chancing either possibility.
The ware house is the safest place to secure ones self against zombies...for the moment at least.
Now all he needs to do is find a way in...
-
The warehouse was a secured thing. It had locks, padlocks, and metal doors. Of course, all of that security was there before the outbreak. Now, the front door hung slightly ajar, the padlock on the ground next to it.
-
An unlocked door could mean many things, like an eaey entry point for hungry zombies.
But liam is only concerned with the hungry zombie lumbering behind him. He dashes with all his energy to the ware house door, thanking all that is holy that it is open. Ignoring the possible possibilities of why the pad lock was broken the marten throws the door open, then slams it shut and tries to lock it before even looking inside to see what awaits him in the ware house...
-
Pat hear the chuckle from the other dog and turned to face him seeing the crowbar held out to her. She grabbed the weapon and tool and gave it a small heft to see if it would be a bad idea to swing it around. It wasn't too heavy for her so she held onto it tossing the seccond golf club.
"Thanks that probably wouldn't have lasted long." She said.
-
((I wrote a reply and taptalk eated it :u
-
As the metal door slams shut, Matt Sutton lets out a relieved sigh. Help, people! The lynx lets out a pained groan, climbing to his feet "Hello..." he called out, rounding a corner. It was obvious he was hurt. The bloody bandage on his left leg proved that.
He saw the pine marten, offering him a smile, edged with tension.
--
The shepherd took the golf club, holding it at the middle, jogging down the stairs at a brisk clip, grabbing up his rifle as he passed it. He checked occasionally for pat over his shoulder as he took a long, circuitous route back to his house, hopefully to loose any infected following them
-
Pat followed along quietly knowing that noise attracs the Zeds. And she had a feeling what the long detour was for. Getting closer to the safehouse she realized that she didn't replace the empty shell yet. She opened the shotgun quietly like she always did and placed a thumb over the the unused shell. Once the barrels were all the way out the empty one sprung out. And started to fall towards the sidewalk. Then pat realized that that was a bad Idea. She lurched and reached out trying to grab the shell and just barely managed to get it. Then the sound of iron hitting concrete sounded and she flinched. Slowly turning towards the source as if not making another sound would not attract any more attention she saw the crowbar. It must have slipped off of her bag when she frantically went to catch the shell.
-
The pot bellied marten threw his back against the door when the lynx called out. "GAAAAAAAaaaa and your not here to eat me." The marten said with obvious relief. For a moment the marten leaned forward, paws on his knees, catching his breath.
"Do I have you to thank for rescuing our party? Was that you with the shot gun?" The marten asked after a while. He cast his gaze about the warehouse. He was half expecting a horde of zombies waiting for him on the other side...
In the prosscess Liam noticed the bandage on his leg. He raised an eyebrow, not asking the obvious question that came to mind. Instead he asked, "Are you...hurt?"
-
"No... that wasn't me with the shotgun..." Matt, the lynx, says "I'm hurt... but it isn't a zombie bite, I swear!" The lynx seemed extremely nervous. Like he was lying. Or it could be him worried that he just might be killed because of a stupid cut.
---
Marion winced as the crowbar skittered against the concrete, jerking his head around, seeing if any infected found them. Only three... easy enough to deal with. He scooped up the crowbar, letting out a savage snarl as he brings the steel rod down onto the nearest one
-
Pat tossed the casing into the grass and placed a new shell into the empty barrel. Closing the shotgun she held it tight getting ready to shoot incase more wanted to come. She couldn't fight hand to hand because she had no weapon and no way in hell she was going to be grabbed.
-
The head of the wolf he had just struck had a noticeable dent in it, but that did not deter her. Marion struck again, in the exact same place, keeping up his vicious snarl. Once the wolf crumpled to the ground, he moved on to the next one.
-
"Riiiight." Liam tried his best not to sound sarcastic but, he failed. To be fair the marten has had one horrible day. Quickly Liam measures his options. Possible bite aside, why was he here? Was he a lone traveler looking for safety? Or a bandit who would kill him and rob him the moment his back was turned?
Liam had survived 3 groups now. The innitial party he found himself with during the out break...they were scattered after the horde over ran their hiding place. The second group left him for dead...the third, he left them, willingly. That last group was a night mare, filled with bandits and people caring only for their own survival.
Only time would tell what this Lynx would be. But one thing was certain. The marten would be a murderer if he just left him to die with out even trying to help...
"There is a drug store right across the street. Maybe we can raid it when the zombies calm down, until then did you...did you need any help?. I was actually hoping to find my...uh...friend. I don't suppose you saw anyone pass through here?"
The marten pauses for a second. There were thousands of questions running through his mind but he figured he asked all the right ones. "I don't suppose we found our way into a weapon warehouse?" He said with a chuckle. A nervous chuckle but a chuckle non the less.
-
Pat didn't care about the fight she was more worried about the noise they were making. As she looked around she ran over to a nearby house and peaked around the corner seeing another small group of zombies. These ones must just be out of earshot but they still pretty close. If one of them wandered a foot over it could start a hoard.
-
The lynx blinked, looking the Marten up and down, muttering something to himself. The fat guy seemed like he would be good eating... what was he thinking!?
The lynx shook his head, as I'd he had just spaced out
"Nah... I dunno. Haven't looked through these that much... I think it's for construction materials. Might have a few tools, but that's about it... Matt Sutton, by the way."
--
With two quick economical strokes, the second man fell to the ground, and Marion was on the second one, sowning him just as quick. After checking around briefly, marion made a quick search through their stuff. One of them had a sick looking combat knife, which Marion took, hooking the crowbar to his belt. The knife, while it required him to be much closer, would kill them much faster, and quieter. Plus, he could cut things, open cans, and skin things with it, thanks to the serrated backside. It was nothing he didn't have at his home base, but it always paid to have extras. And plus, this one seemed like a much more expensive model than the one he had left at home.
-
"Guess it was too much to hope for to be stranded in a weapons warehouse ...or twinki factory, am I right?" The marten smiled at his own jest before continueing, "Actually...if there are enough supplies, we might be able to board up the place. Make a save haven of sorts. But first there are at least two people out there, maybe more who need our help."
The marten took out his keychain flash light and began moving deeper into the warehouse. "If there is a top level I can search that." Liam hated stairs but...he could imagine a lynx with a wounded leg would hate them more. "We can find some tools to use as bludgeons, then maybe a window to see out side..." the marten turned to wards the lynx before dissapearing down the first isle of boxes, "Liam Grey. Don't worry Matt...we are going to survive this..."
-
once everything became quiet she glanced back seeing was all over. she looked back at the hoard seeing that they didn't notice them and jogged back to the new ally. once she got close she spoke quietly. "sorry about that it slipped off of my bag."
-
"It's okay, we all make mistakes." Marion sighed, unhooking the crowbar, and handing it back to her "Don't drop it this time, yeah?" He seemed to speak with an almost sarcastic edge "anyways, when we get back to base, I'll get you a good shotgun, I have a semi auto one, if you wanna use that."
---
Matt's thoughts were really bugging him. He had the really strong urge to bite this guy. Which, for him at least, was a really weird thought. He couldn't speak for anyone else, but, he assumed that that wasn't normal for them either.
The cut on his leg was just that, a cut. He tripped, and fell on a particularly nasty piece of scrap metal.
But why was he having thoughts like that?
With a slight jump (if this was a cartoon, there would have been a light bulb above his head) he realized it.
It was his wife. He had given her a particularly long kiss, in a certain place... but he had no idea she was infected then!
-
Blissfully unaware that his new freind's less than favorable thoughts Liam continues through the warehouse. He shines his meager light on a stair case and smiles. "Hey Matt. I am going to check out the offices up stairs offices. If I find anything I'll holler. Until then do you want to see if you can find a hammer or...crow bar? Anything we can use as a club? If you find anything else usefull let me know."
With that the fat bellied marten moved his way, slowly, up the stairs. He doesnt look back to see of the feline followed him or his orders.
There seem to be two sets of offices. Liam shines his light through the first. It is a small cluttered filing room with a pair of bodies on the floor. Liam quickly turns off his light and throws his back against the wall. After a moment he peeks towards the window and peers inside with the light again.
The bodies seem to both have bullet holes in their torso and heads. There is a stoey behind that...somewhere...but Liam is most likely never to learn it. Sighing in relief he decides to leave this office alone for now and search the next...
-
Pat took the crowbar back and decided to hold onto it placing her shotgun to the bag. "I would rather keep my gun. I don't have a lot of ammo and i usually hurt myself when I use it anyway." She said after putting the shotgun on her pack. "Let's just hurry back and worry about it once we're safe.
-
"Yeah... yeah. Let's get going." With that, Marion started off to his place at a brisk jog, reaching his recently(ish) acquired house quite quickly. He held the door open for her, and, as she could probably see, the place was a mess, with glass scattered everywhere. Only two windows were broken, thankfully, but the relentless pounding had knocked much of the glassware that he had set up onto the floor, and any counters under them.
Marion let out a curse, growling lightly
"Glass frigging everywhere..."
---
Matt just couldn't keep his mind off that fat guy. The thought of just taking a nice, good bite out of his neck almost made his mouth water...
So he followed him up, careful not to make a sound.
-
Pat kept up with her ally the whole way to his base. Once she reached it she wasn't too impressed. She knew the pace was full with a hoard but she thought it fared better than this. But one things for certain they couldn't stay here anymore not unless they can board everything up. She wanted to say something about it but figured he was thinking the same thing. But before moving out she needed sleep and maybe water.
-
"Should be simple enough to board up these windows, with two people... maybe a third... I don't know if he's alive yet." The shepherd sighed, sweeping off the glass from a counter, placing his rifle (who's stock has cracked, noticeably) onto it
-
Liam shined his light inside the open door to the second office. "Nah...not much in here..." the marten could be heard rummaging though the room, going through desk drawers, by the sound of it. "Matt! Hey Matt check it out."
Liam appears on the catwalk again. He brandishes a letter open in the shape of a double edged sword with a wooden handle. "I know its silly but...in the end of the world it pays to take humor where you can find it, right Mat?"
The plump marten shined his light on the lynx coming up the stairs. "Matt?" His fur began to rise on the back of his neck. Something was...off. He couldn't place it but something in the cat caused Liam to back away from Matt until his tail brushed the metal rail of the catwalk behind him. "Matt? Matt you ok?"
-
Matt let out a low groan, arms outstretched, claws extended. The Marten looked... tasty. That's all he could think. The thought of taking a nice, juicy chunk out of the pine marten had an almost orgasmic connotation to it... but, the small part of him that was still human, struggling to remain in control was still there. It used the last of its strength to force the lynx to say "Kill...me..."
And then, just like that, Matt was no different from the rest of the slavering ghouls outside.
-
Pat listened to the Shepard as he announced the plan. But one thing stuck with her. "Wait you have another friend?" She asked. She might have to be careful she doesn't know this guy's intentions and with a second around it might be dangerous. She was a girl after all and for some reason in every media she has seen they are the most vulnerable and in this case these guys might think the same. She had to keep strong and harsh like she always had.
-
"Pfah, him?" The shepherd shook his head, chuckling "Don't worry about him. He's very...well, let's just say he leads a secular life." The shepherd moved to his armory, drawing Gus finger across each and every weapon. Most if his firearms aren't friendly to beginners, with relatively high recoil, and weird sights. However, there was one that would work perfectly. He picked a 9mm P320, with a fancy red dot sight, and a laser at the bottom. He had used a bore laser earlier to sight the both of them in, so it should be accurate.
He handed her the pistol, rattling off a few facts about it.
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"Matt...Matt!" The marten squeaked as he pushed up against the railing as far as he could go. It creaked ominously against his weight. There was no chance of tossing himself over before the lynx took a bite out of him.
"Come on man! Snap out of it!" Vivid flashes of being eaten alive by this thing flashed through Liam's head. Would it start with his belly? His flank? Maybe a limb? Or just bite his head off. "You told me it wasn't a bite! You TOLD me!" Liam shrieks in an accusitory way. His voice fills with anger, "You told me you were not infected!" He give the zombie a feirce kick to the abdomin to push it away, towards the stairs and give himself enough time to...to what? Throw himself from a story tall catwalk, break his legs and lie there waiting for zombies to come eat him? To starve?
No, he pressed the attack. Grabbing the letter opener like a propper knife he thrust forward towards the lynx's head. "You jackwagon! You could have told me!"
-
The blade of the "Sword" bounces quite ineffectively off of the lynx's skull(Turns out, the part of the body that protects the most important thing in it is quite tough! Go figure.), but the force of the blow is enough to send him reeling backwards. The former lynx flails its arms in an attempt to right itself, instead sending itself tumbling down the stairs.
Since the warehouse was fairly long, the stairway had no landings, so, in effect, the lynx tumbled to the ground, gathering up momentum as he did.
He kept going once he got off the stairs, his primal attempts at stopping himself doing little good. He careened into a shelving unit, knocking whatever things were on there off balance, a particularly heavy box squishing a good chunk of his upper and lower body, just below the shoulders. Only one arm was trapped, and said arm was reaching towards Liam with the last of his strength.
-
Liam cringed with every time the zombie hit the stairs and finally crashed down on the floor below. "M-Matt? Are you ok?" He asked instinctively even though he knew that the person known as Matt was long gone before falling down the stairs. He shone his light on the zombie below and let out an estranged gasp. Combined with the darkness of the warehouse the sight of the crushed zombie still trying to grab at him would forever haunt his nightmares.
"By the light..." he felt...sick to be honest. No one ever really got used to seeing someone turn.
Cautiously Liam came down the stairs. He ran for the door and almost opened it but then paused. Looking back at the zombie carcus of Matt the martin sighed. Heading back into the warehouse Liam picks up a hammer laying on one of the shelves, tossing his letter opener away.
Standing infront of the trapped zombie Liam takes a deep brewth to steady his nerves then pushes the box off of him...and then uses the hammer to put it out of its missery..."Good bye Matt."
-
As the lynx breathes his last breath, there seems to be a... smile on his face. He embraced the murky blackness of oblivion like one would an old friend, glad to be finally rid of those troubling thoughts, glad to finally be dead. The virus leaves its infected painfully aware of what they are, but equally as painfully aware that they cannot control it.
Liam had to get on his feet. to rest, maybe. But he had to get back to Marion and pat, as soon as possible.
-
Liam breathed deeply resting his head against the mirror of the bathroom he found in the warehouse. There was no water from the tap but their were paper towls and with enough soap he managed to clean tbe hammer he found and more importantly his fur of as much zombie goop as he could.
He remembered Axel from the third group. Liam doubted that was his real name given the wolverines ecentric personality Liam wouldnt doubt he traveled by an alias. Axel was one kf the few people to actually enjoy the end of the world. Cackalling maddly as he gleefully killed off the undead sometimes to a degree that it disturbed the rest of the group.
It the chance of getting infected because zombie juices splashed over an open wound was...rare...but not un heard of.
Axel met his end in a more theatrical way, finding a gas powered chain saw. Despite protest from the rest of the group the wolverine insisted he prove the weapons effectiveness in a zombie invasion, as shown in the movies. So he took the chain saw to the first horde he incountered. It was, to be fair, quite effective.
Both at defeating the zombie and splashing the young wolverine with infected juices across his legs,torso, and open mouth as he cackled in delight. He wasnt laughing when he turned less than a day later.
From then on Liam kept himself clean when possible to almost phobic degrees.
After finishing this the marten returned to the main room. It was...disturbing to him to stay here now. Too many doors, locked or unlocked. Too many shadows for creatures to hide, real or imagined.
His best bet was to find his lost friend back at the origional safe house. It would be dangerous but...what wasn't these days.
As he paused his stomach growled fiercely. Maybe he could stop by the pie place on the way. The marten tilted his head in thought then shook it. There would be time enough for that later. Safety first. Hunger second.
Adjusting the belt around his waist the young marten peered opened the door just enough to peer out side then darted out into the night.
-
The horde outside has thinned somewhat. True, they stayed rather close, but they had spread out, for whatever reason.
"Grrrwoof! Woof woof!" A dog was outside, from the sound of its barks, it was feral. The dog growled, pouncing onto one of the zombies, tearing savagely at his throat.
Of course, as you know, all that did was add a new hole for the zombie to shove meat into.
The horde quickly encircled the dog, the last Liam heard of her was a panicked yap, a whine, and then silence. Well, from the dog at least. There was still plenty of moans.
-
Pat grabbed the pistol giving her ally a quick glance as she did so losing some trust. After she started to look over the pistol. "So where did you get all of these guns?" She asked. she wanted to remove the sight because the pistol wouldn't fit in her pocket with it on. After a little bit of fiddling she started to take it off. It's not like she would need it anyway with the laser guide on.
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"I didn't. Guy who lived here did." Just as pat started fiddling with the pistol, Marion turned around, a tactical leg holster in hand "ah... the sight would be useful past longer than the laser would. And plus, it looks cool." The shepherd shook his head "anyways, the guy who lived here was a prepper, and a gun nut. All I brought was an AR-15, which kind of... exploded, and this." He pulled another SIG P320, with the same attachments as pat's, this time in .40 S&W
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Pat looked over to the Shepard as she continued to take off the sight. "I'm not going to be sniping people with it. I'm just going to use it when i need to reload my shotgun." She said as the sight came off. She handed it back to the Shepard and said. "Plus it won't fit in my pocket if i leave it on."
-
Liam had gotten better at navigating the darkened streets with out a gps. If he had not he most likely would be one of the shambling corpses he past by. The marten paused to watch the dog meet its grizzly fate. His ears fell flat and he gulped before moving on.
He found his way back to the alley way to the origional hide out and skidded to a hault. There were a couple of shamblers in the alley way. They were idle, bumbing into the walls around them and moving about in short un organized steps. The squirrel from before was gone. A trail of zombie goo could be seen moving down the alley and dissapearing at the street.
Liam swollowed again though at the sight of the two zombies before him. Taking a stern look he pressed his way forward. While the first zombie's back was turned to him he came up close, and moved with the creature as it turned around to see the alley where he once had been.
The marten did the same for the second, hammer ever at the ready. The sound of a struggle more often than not could bring more and he really did not have the strength left to fight even these ones.
The zombies though didnt bother to notice him...yet. The marten came to the door and thrust his ear against it. He couldnt heqr anything inside so he tried the knob...and found it locked. "Blast it...hey! Hey shepard! Pssst!" Liam whispered as loud as he dared. His head turned around to see if the zombies had noticed him. He cupped his paws together and whispered again, "Doooooog! Let me iiiiiiin!" He added to himself, "Please be alive to let me in..."
-
Marion huffed. He thought he heard speech outside. he held a hand up to pat, telling her to stop. He walked to the door, groaning lightly. The Pine Marten was there alright. Which meant he was alive. He would likely be a drain on the supplies... but he didn't know his skills yet. he could be an engineer, or something... he hoped. Which, the shepherd had a feeling, was a rather vain hope.
" 'ey! Fatso!" the shepherd called, at a sort of loud whisper, just below the level of nromal speech.
" Yer at tha wrong door, Ova here!"
-
Pat was surprised by her allies sudden reaction and also the knocking, mainly the knocking. She put the sight down on a nearby table and aimed at the door before he said anything. Once he spoke she lowered her pistol sighing in relief.
-
Liam jumped when the dog called to him. He turned and dashed along the side of the building until he came to the correct door. He let himself in, shutting the door behind him. Leaning his back against the door Liams chest rose and fell with each quick and paniced breath. "Z zombies...so many zombies..."
-
"Ah shet. Lucky yer alive." The shepherd said with a sigh "anyway, meet Pat, newes' addition ta our 'team'." The shepherd made a grand gesture towards the husky, as if she was some sort of stage preformer.
with the introductions done, he pulled a pump action benelli shotgun from the wall, with a special shell holder on the side, and an elongated magazine tube. He pulled the pump back halfway, checking for a shell. As he thought, it was empty (to avoid accidents). So he grabbed a few 12 gauge rounds, shoving them into the tube.
-
(uhm Pat didn't give her name yet...)
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(DX
I will play it like he said meet the new girl or something like that. Your move first though drakey :3)
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((My mistake x3
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Pat was a little annoyed being displayed in such a way. To her it felt as if he was saying "look a girl!" But that wasn't the case. She sighed and crossed her arms. "Hey..." she said flatly pretending to at least not be interested.
-
The marten continued to try and catch his breath. He straitened and peered intently at her, "Has she been bitten?" Liam can't believe its the first words out of his mouth. Of course she hasn't. The shepard is enough of a survivalist he would have not have her inside his safe house if she was.
"Sorry...its...." shyly he rubbed at his neck, "Let me try that again. My name is Liam. Welcome to the club. Please, please please tell me you qre not going to turn into a zombie and eat us." He paused for a moment, "Wait...are you the one who saved us?"
-
((Please do excuse my rather abrupt and uncalled intrusion into this well developed roleplay you've got going on around these parts, but I was wondering if entry is available to an outside who wishes to join in with you fellas. The original post for this roleplay never stated any sort of prerequisites for joining, so I wanted to clarify and all that. If not, thank for reading this anyways.))
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(( Im ok with it :3 give us a brief summery of your alt here :D http://www.thefurryforum.com/forums/index.php?topic=26905.msg1478359#new (http://www.thefurryforum.com/forums/index.php?topic=26905.msg1478359#new) ))
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((Go on ahead! Plus, it's not like other people can't barge in, though Marion may be getting a bit tired of it, lol
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Pat glanced at the marten who called himself Liam. "Of course I'm not if i was i would end it myself. I don't want to be found as one of those freaks." She said as she placed her new pistol in her pants pockets.
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"Mmm." Marion went "Neva a nice thing, to be one of those..." he poked Pat with the pistol holster, putting it on Table next to her "alright! Gear allocation, let's go!" Marion made a grand gesture, like he was a show performer "I'll be carrying most of the food, and obviously quite a bit of the ammo. Pat, what do you wanna grab? We have a lot of stuff."
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Pat saw the holster and strapped it to her right leg as she thought. "Why don't we just split up the food and ammo evenly. You know just in case one of us go down. Because if the guy with the most food goes down that means the survivors wouldn't have a lot of food." She said after she finished adjusting the holster. Soon after she moved the pistol from her pocket to her holster.
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"Myself I would prefure to become a zombie and bite the people who let me get bit in the first place...just saying." The marten laughed. Then the conversation caught up to him. "Wait...what's all this talk about...you...you cant be serious about going back out there? I barely got back HERE?"
The marten slides onto his rump, breathing deeply. "Ah blast..." he chuckles darkly, "I really regret not getting itno soccer like the rest of my family...but...either way I found some places you guys might be interested in. There is a drug store not too far from here. A pie place as well. Oh and I found a warehouse with some good locks in it. 3 bodies, no zombies."
He added saddly.
"Also, be on the look out for survivors. Just because they are not re animated doesn't make them not dangerous...I...I almost found out the hard way..." he clutches his hammer tighter to his chest.
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"Warehouse sounds good. Should be easy enough to fortify... if anything, we could cannibalize the boxes to make barricades. Maybe a way in and out... or something." He scratched his chin in thought "good thought... but honestly, i don't trust liam with the food..."
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Liam crossed his arms and gasped. "Oh sure. Just assume that the fat guy is a glutton. How very noble of you. Thanks. I'll have you know that obesity has more to do with genetics and poor life style than over eating. The nerve@"
The marten then adds in a calmer voice, peering at the supplies ofvthe room, "What do we have to eat anyway? Im so hungry I could eat a zebra..."
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Pat looked over her shoulder to Liam. "Might want to rephrase that." He said as she checked her ammo belt. She needed to restock it before anything so she took her bag off and pulled out the box with her spare shotgun rounds filling the three slots in her belt. She was down to ten buckshot shells.
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Marion huffed, crossing his arms ad if Liam had just answered his statement "fine. Th' gear is evenl' spread out."
He then went back to his ration room, pulling out an MORE.
"You get... menu Item number 11!" He paused, taking a moment to read its contents "It contains...
Vegetarian Taco Pasta
Wet Pack Fruits
Cookies
Chunky Peanut Butter
Crackers
Candy I
Instant Cappuccino, French Vanilla
Hot Sauce, Extra Hot
Accessory Packet B
Spoon
Flameless Ration Heater."
He read the list, tossing him the packet
"We get two of these per day, plus any fruits or vegetables or whatever you find while you're outside. Capiche? We can't run out of these."
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Liam wags his tail happily as he reaches out and takes the offered packet. "Well...never thought it would come to eating these." As if to justify not being able to open it immidietly.
"So...now that we got a moment to breath maybe we should talk about the plan here." Liam smiles as he opens the package, "I mean, relocating to the warehouse is all fine and dandy but still just a short term solution. We NEED to get out of this town."
Liam takes a bite of his meal. He chews for a long moment and swollows, "This...this tastes like toilet paper."
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Pat sighed. "There isn't much else to go. And we are walled off." She said. She hated being the bearer of bad news but they needed to know that.
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" see, a warehous' has tough walls, lots of construction materials. Even if it doesnt, the tall shelves would be useful for something, at least... and plus, if he found it out... it couldn't be too far away." The shepherd let out a small chuckle, pulling a few MRE packets into his bag. Enough to feed a person (with their rations) for three days. He grabbed a tactical vest, shoving a few polymer magazines of 5.56 NATO rounds into it, along with a few magazines for his pistol as well. He also put a single MRE, a small pry bar, a box of waterproof matches, and a few other survival items. All small and lightweight. He also shoved a tactical knife into his belt.
Then, he found a red, military style beret, sliding it onto his head. It was his lucky beret.
"Right..." he said, shoving the magazine into his ZM LR300, with a tactical red dot. "Anyone else wanna grab anything?" He then tossed the shotgun he had grabbed previously to the pine Marten, figuring that with its spread of pellets, it would be good for him to use.
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The marten gratefully takes the shot gun. Continuing to finish his meal he lets the slight about his weight alide this time. It was hard to argue the point thqt Liam was indeed fat, and besides, it felt good to have some good humored jesting even in the face of such dire circomstances.
"It actually isn't that far. Just take a left after the alley and head strait for a few blocks. Its across from a drug store and a bakery. I left one of the doors closed but unlocked. I dont think anything could have crawled in there while I was gone..."
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Pat nodded when the "leader" asked for everyone to do a once over. She looked around and found the ammunition seeing that there was plenty of boxes of ammunition and spare magazines. She pulled out her pistol and removed the magazine to see which one she would need. Finding the right ones she grabbed three others and and a spare box of nine mils that had thirty bullets inside. She also topped off her shotgun ammunition making her have a total of 26 including her belt, twenty of which was buckshot the other six was slug rounds. She also grabbed a 20 foot coil of climbing rope. After tossing a few ration packets to last her a day if she was separated from the group she was ready to go.
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"Right... Liam, you good?" The shepherd asked, adjusting his grip on the rounded hangars of his rifle " Should be an easy run, provided we dont snag on anything. Anyways... we should probably ferry supplies back and forth. First, we've gotta make sure the place is clear."
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"Is anyone really 'good' in the middle of a zombie invasion?" The marten half chuckled, half sobbed. He was fighting hard to keep the stress from eating away at him. He shouldnt even be hear. He just stopped for gas!
"I'll be ok...just don't ask me to run any marathons." Liam gathered the supplies he could, throwing a small back pack over his shoulder and clutching at his shot gun like it was his single greatest treasure in the whole world.
Which for right now, it was.
"You lead, I'll follow."
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"But aren't you the one who knows where we are going?" She asked as she started tossing supplies in her bag for the first trip.
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Liam thought about this for a moment. He blinked once then stepped forward, swollowing his reply and his pride.
"Oh...um...right. F-follow me." The fat marten then stepped out the door into the night.
-
Pat tossed the last of the supplies into her bag that would fit and followed the marten out. the night was quiet except for the moans of the undead. But Pat wasn't worried because they were pretty far away. she gripped her shotgun between her hands and followed the marten along. But if they were to continue along the roads they would definitely get caught. She gently touched the marten on the shoulder and spoke quietly. "If we stay on the roads we are going to get caught. Take the alleys they are usually calmer."
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"Usually," the marten agrees. Adjusting the weight of the bag over his shoulder he finishes his meal. Picking his teeth clean Liam takes the lead, "In all honestly, its only a matter of time before we are all on the menu."
With that the marten dashes off into the night. Taking the advice of the dog he sticks to the allies as much as he can, dashing around trash cans and over turned boxes, navigating the dark with his key chain light. "Its not too far. Barely two blocks down. "
(Decided to post :3 Feel free to spoof obsticals as needed :3 )
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(Alright. Maybe we should tell the other guy that we are continuing?)
Pat followed along swiftly. The marten was right but of there was a option to avoid it or escape she would take it in a heartbeat. Well as long as she lived. The travel was pretty quiet and they cane across thier first obstacle. A semi truck was on it's side and blocking the exit to the alley. With a sigh Pat turned around. "May as well turn back." She said quietly. Then there was a noise in the darkness and Pat quickly hid behind a dumpster quietly hoping that the marten did so too.