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Deadworld, a Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Roleplay Goto Page: 1 2 [>] [»|]

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NoLifeKing66

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PostPosted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 4:27 pm


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Some time ago, the recently dead, for an unknown reason, began returning to life to attack the living. Driven by an insatiable hunger for human flesh, these "zombies" multiplied rapidly by adding to their ranks with each and every victim. Now, human civilization has collapsed and no place is safe, only safer.
PostPosted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 4:33 pm


This roleplay focuses largely on the characters and their attempts to survive the zombie apocalypse, as well as the effects the zombie apocalypse has had upon their bodies, minds, and spirits, so there is no predetermined direction in which the story will develop. Players are not bound by anything except the rules. You cannot kill off another player's character without their permission, but you are free to kill off your own character and make a new one. You are free to make your own allies and your own enemies. You are free to do almost anything you want. However, this roleplay is set in a realistic world. Other than the zombies, there are no supernatural or paranormal elements of any kind.

NoLifeKing66

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NoLifeKing66

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PostPosted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 4:37 pm


Just as in George Romero's Living Dead movies, the origins of the zombie outbreak remain ambiguous. All humans become zombies upon their deaths unless their bodies are properly disposed of. Zombie bites are not responsible for resurrecting humans as zombies. However, zombies bites are highly infectious and can kill a healthy human within hours. Upon their death, that human will resurrect as a zombie. A newly resurrected zombie is capable of moving in quick but clumsy bursts of speed. Over time, its muscles will deteriorate, reducing it to the slow, awkward shamble that zombies are famous for. However, zombies do not feel fatigue, and can therefore engage in any activity tirelessly. The only way to kill a zombie is to destroy its brain. Simple decapitation is insufficient, as a zombie's decapitated head will still attempt to bite as long as its brain remains active.
PostPosted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 4:39 pm


If you are interested in joining this roleplay, here is a rudimentary application:

Quote:
User name:
Character name:
Date of birth:
Place of origin:
Age:
Sex:
Race:
Height:
Weight:
Previous occupation:
Preferred weapons:
Biography:
Personality:
Appearance:
Trivia:


PM your completed application to me. When I have approved your application, you may begin roleplaying.

NoLifeKing66

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NoLifeKing66

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PostPosted: Fri Jul 17, 2009 10:40 pm


CHARACTER LIST

User name: Gorenza
Character name: Leon Slackly
Date of birth: July 19, 1975
Place of origin: Brookings, South Dakota
Age: 35 years
Sex: male
Race: black (Afro-Irish ancestry)
Height: 6'2" (187.96 cm).
Weight: 189 lbs (85.73 kg).
Previous occupation: medical orderly in a psychiatric hospital
Preferred weapons: CZ-75 B Satin Nickel 9mm Luger
Biography: At the age of 10, Leon had been left alone to use the rest room at a local super market. He was a very independent child even at that age. The door to the bathroom had been marked "closed," although this did not stop little Leon from entering. Upon entering, he saw that the white tile floor was stained pink and that there were three men in the room: one at the sink washing off a gun, one hastily moping the floor, and one lying awkwardly on the floor, his body wrapped around the toilet stall, his face warped. Leon was a witness to a murder and somehow managed to escape with his life. Placed into the witness protection program, he was transferred to South Dakota. Months later, one of the murderers was captured and sentenced to life imprisonment. The other is at large to this day. Leon has had few strong relationships in his life. His father passed away at the age of 45 to scleroderma. His mother currently resides in the psychiatric hospital in which he works.
Personality: calm, arrogant, insightful
Appearance: athletic; freckled complexion; well-groomed; typically wears active wear underneath a fine long sleeve shirt; carries with him a nice, all-purpose watch, Oaklea sunglasses, and a wedding band; has a tattoo depicting Asa, a god worshiped by the Kenyans, and Eriu, the matron goddess of Ireland, starting on each of his sides, between his ribs and his hips, and wrapping around his back.
Trivia: tried online dating once; hates "The Legend of Bagger Vance"; has never been in the armed forces; has been accused of shop-lifting twice; has working knowledge of prescription drugs and of the South Dakota Escort Services; has rudimentary knowledge of mechanics (enough to change oil and other fluids)

User name: NoLifeKing66
Character name: Maryse Ouellet
Date of birth: January 21, 1984
Place of origin: Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
Age: 26 years
Sex: female
Race: white (Franco-Irish ancestry)
Height: 5'6" (167.64 cm).
Weight: 132 lbs (59.87 kg).
Previous ocupation: tattooist
Preferred weapons: Beretta 92 9mm Luger
Biography: When Maryse was 12 years old, her mother was killed in a car accident. Her father, unable or unwilling to take care of her, sent her to South Dakota to live with their uncle, a retired military man, who tried to drill some discipline into her. Maryse was a very intelligent, but very moody, very ill-behaved kid. Her uncle loved her in his own way, but he had an insane moral compass, and his punishments often bordered on abuse. Anxious to get away from him as soon as she could, Maryse moved out when she was 18 and, with the help of her then-girlfriend, got a job as a tattooist's apprentice. She's matured a lot, since then. She's opened up her own tattoo studio, where she engages her customers in incredibly intellectual conversations while painfully applying ink to their skin.
Personality: moody, intelligent, artistic, gothic
Appearance: curvaceous body; long, lustrous dark hair (that appears reddish in the right light); fair, freckled complexion (which she usually powders to make herself appear paler); icy green eyes (which she usually accents with dark makeup); usually dresses in a gothic fashion (she loves dark colors and corsets and prefers dresses to pants); always wears one long glove on her left arm; has swirling designs tattooed around each of her thighs; carries with her a gold medallion her mother gave to her on her 12th birthday
Trivia: tried college, but dropped out; loves art and literature; has experimented with drugs and alcohol on multiple occasions; has been in trouble with the police on multiple occassions; has an incredibly short temper; is bisexual; is fluent in French and English (English is her second language); is knowledgeable in first aid and lock-picking
PostPosted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 8:51 pm


This roleplay is now open!

NoLifeKing66

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Gorenza
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Merry Dabbler

PostPosted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 12:13 am


April / 25 / 2010
"It was supposed to be the usual routine. Once a month the orderlies draw straws to see who was going to run a double shift. Not exactly professional but that's how things went at E C Mental Health & Chem Dependency. Of course I had to draw the short straw. Two whole days shot. Nothing better to do then chase crazies and catch up on some sleep. I wouldn't recommend sleeping much. No matter how nice it sounds you will regret it. I am not sayin' stay up all twenty four but... if you can. The beds they provide aren't fit for a prison."

Leon coughs, warms his hands and continues reading from his journal. It was about the only thing he could do now to stay calm. "Oh right. Found a place to lay low for a while. You see despite it being a @&*%y day a couple of crazies have been acting out of place. Know I am not going to go into all the technictz but Jason %*#*ed up again. This time he should have lost his job. He choked out a patient tell the guy died. At least I thought it was the case anyway. The patient’s eyes rolled back in his head and everything. While J was being chewed out and we prepared to deal with the body the guy started moving again. I know the handicapped can be strong but...damn! Anyway the patient was sent down to the ICU where he could be looked after."

Leon heard the sounds of so many unwanted guests out sided. He pulled out his gun and leaned it against his hip. Nothing was coming yet but they will. They always find a way. He looked back down on the page determined to finnish the entry before he moved on. "I will write more when I have the chance. I am sure the boss is going to be asking why I am not carrying on as usual. I just had to get that out of my system while it was still fresh. It's been over an hour since I have done any real work now. Actually I have been wondering why some one hasn't come to get me. I figure Jason was in enough trouble that I could get away with a solid break. "

Leon put his note pad back into his pocket. "That's it I'm freezing." He stood up off the crate in which he was sitting. Standing in an aisle between two metal racks he stretched his legs. He bent over looking intently at the small bottles of fluid displayed. "Why are you doing this Leon?" Pocketing a handful he headed out the door and into the main hallway. The door behind him swung shut followed by a low click of a mechanical lock. A sign displayed on the door read Med storage B1.
PostPosted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 3:14 pm


Maryse often found herself thinking back on the day her life changed, the day that everyone's lives changed, and discovering that she could no longer remember it as clearly as she thought she could, as she thought she would. Having to focus so intensely on the present meant that her memory of the past atrophied like long-unused muscles, becoming threadbare and frayed around the edges. Here’s what she had, or at least what she thought she had:

She was dressed all in dark colors. It was hot, perhaps the hottest day of the summer, and she was dressed all in dark colors. She had, however, forsaken her knee-high black leather boots for a pair of black sandals. She felt good. She was smiling, swaying her hips a little more than she needed to, and she remembered wanting to slip her sandals off so she could feel the rough rasp of the sidewalk with her feet. She remembered that she didn't.

At the intersection a Jeep Cherokee slurped up onto the curb and smacked into a stone bench with the sound of tin foil tearing and rattling. The car rocked on its tires, its windows the color of oil on water. Time hovered and danced around the scene like a bumblebee in search of nectar. Cubes of broken glass spun languorously in the air while clouds raced overhead in a fractured time lapse. She was frozen in place, in shock, in mid-stride. In fact, everything was frozen in place. Even the light seemed to hang in the air in individual packets, stray photons pinned in place. She wasn't sure how much time passed. Fifteen minutes? Fifteen seconds?


Suddenly, something startled her out of her recollection. Something low, something distorted. A sound. Slowly, Maryse raised the Mossberg 590 pump-action riot shotgun she'd found in a nearby police cruiser and undid the safety. Her uncle had tried to teach her how to use a gun so that he might take her hunting with him, so that he might take her out of the city and into the wilderness of South Dakota, so that he might keep her from hanging around with the wrong people. She concentrated, remembering what he'd taught her, reciting it softly to herself as she did it, step by step. She planted her feet wide, assumed the stance, the shotgun held low in both hands, right hand on the grip in front of the forecomb, left hand cupping the slide, weapon held slightly to her right side, both elbows bent, the better to absorb recoil, which would be brutal if she locked her joints. A tendon-tearing, shoulder-dislocating kind of brutal. She preferred the shotgun to the Beretta that hung at her side. She knew she was trading power for accuracy, but she didn't care. She wanted something heavy, something real. Something with stopping power.

"Leon?" she called out as loudly as she thought she could, her words fringed with a slight French accent, "We might have company."

NoLifeKing66

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Gorenza
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Merry Dabbler

PostPosted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 4:53 pm


Vials clicking in his pockets Leon began picking up his pace. As he moved towards the back doors he popped open his gun's magazine. The cartage dropped freely into his left hand. He gave it a shake as he moved unto a quick jog. Sure that the magazine was full he clicked it back into place. " Never enough damn time." He cursed while breaking into a sprint. His body was sore as the day was long. It’s been a while since he had anything decent to eat. None of that mattered. Not now, not while she was in danger.
The back rooms where a grizzly sight. Body parts, furniture and paper work where strewn about the place as if the room it’s self was ran though a meat grinder. Leon was used to this sort of seen. He hurdled over the obstacles with out regard to what they had been.
In the distance a red exit sign hung by it’s electrical cord. Just in front his exit even the sign looked as though the guts had been ripped out of it.
Caring very little about stealth he kicked open the back door. Immediately he caught a glimpse of Maryse aiming at god knows what. “How many!” Leon took a look up in the sky and gnashed his teeth. “This had better have been worth it” he winced. Worrying about all the time they had wasted getting to the office. Time they could have put to much better use. “What now girl? Back the way we came or…” he stopped to catch his breath. Leon made certain he had the alternate direction covered.
PostPosted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 6:22 pm


Maryse didn't look at Leon as he dashed out of the doors and took his place by her side, covering her. She was focused on trying to find the source of that sound. She was loathe to admit that she hadn't seen anything, but she'd heard something, and that was enough for her. She didn't take any chances, anymore.

"Did you get what you came for?" she asked Leon.

Just then, as if alerted by her voice, something moved in the direction in which she was convinced the sound she'd heard had come from. Something stirred in the shadows. Something moved toward them, slowly but surely. Something stepped into the light.

It was a man. He looked almost normal, almost alive, but Maryse knew that he wasn't. Even from a distance, she knew that he wasn't. He was a trifle cyanotic. There was a blueness in his jaw and at his temples. He was very pale. His eyes were shot with red where his capillaries had burst open. A vein under his left cheek lay dead and swollen, so blue it was almost black. She could see other clots and occlusions, web-like traceries of dead veins. Like the veins in a piece of marble, she thought, or a piece of Stilton. Without the veins, a piece of marble is just granite. Without the veins, a piece of Stilton is just plain cheese. The dead veins gave his face a certain character, a certain gravitas.

Of course, that character didn't make him any less dead.

His legs twisted beneath him, threatening to topple him at any second, his arms stretched out, his muscles straining, stretching taut as steel cables beneath his cold, clammy skin. He stumbled forward until his legs gave way, until he smashed down onto the concrete. His body heaved and shuddered trying to catch a breath, any breath of air at all. It was just a reflex, she told herself, just a reflex. He was a dead man, and dead men don't need to breathe.

Maryse was transfixed. Finally, she forced herself to say the word, the only word she needed to say. "Run."

NoLifeKing66

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Gorenza
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Merry Dabbler

PostPosted: Sat Aug 01, 2009 11:35 pm


While his back faced Maryse he turned to glare at her. "We will talk about this later," he whispered in a harsh and upset tone. Leon left it at that and became very silent. Even as he took in breath he did it as deeply and as quietly as he could. The sound of the street had taken residence in his mind. It was unmistakable. Leon's face displayed absolute focus. Up until the very moment Maryse uttered the word run.
With out so much as a second look Leon bolted toward the direction he had been covering. This wasn't the time or the place to hang around. Down the alley he ran hoping there would be enough bullets to shoot there way out if they had too. The skyline would soon be blood red. Like drawn curtains upon a stage the change in scenery was a final que for the show to start.
Leon met opposition as he neared the ally's end. A slender and festering corps haggardly stood in his path. There was barely time for the thing to react before Leon kicked it square in the chest. It's body cracked as it landed stiffly upon the pavement. The thing might as well have been a throw rug now for Leon took little interest in avoiding the body as he ran. Just a knee jerk reaction, kick and trample, that all there was to it.
PostPosted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 5:19 pm


When Maryse could no longer feel Leon's presence at her back, she turned and took off, running as fast as she could. She caught up with Leon in the alley around the corner and watched him as he kicked another man, another zombie, and trampled him underfoot. Maryse followed suit, crushing the man's head under her heavy black boot. She could feel what remained of his skull giving way beneath her foot, what remained of his brain gushing out from the cracks. She forced herself not to think about it.

"We need time to eat and rest," she called to Leon, "We have to get out of the city and head for the suburbs. There will be fewer people there."

She knew he knew what she meant when she said 'fewer people'. Fewer zombies.

NoLifeKing66

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Gorenza
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Merry Dabbler

PostPosted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 12:09 am


Leon spun his head around hoping for some good luck. Unimpressed with the situation he stopped and reached his hand out behind himself. Expecting Maryse to catch up and take it. The gesture was a chance for him to hold her as he broke the news. It had been tough for the two of them to reach the facility. Leon had no doubt it would be tough getting out. The dead where massing, the street was littered with their corpses, far more than he was willing to deal with.
They where screwed and he knew it. Staring blankly into the crowed he felt phantom pains move a crossed his shoulders. As if his body knew the kind pain that awaited him. He had seen victims of the mob ripped apart. The very thought of it cause his body to twitch.
Sneering Leon tilted his head and rubbed his shoulder with the butt of his gun. He was certain this was it. Maryse’s voice echoed through the ally “head for the suburbs”. “Hmmm…” he grunted, “How?” He knew this scene was much the same around every corner. This is where they gather. They made there why here when they where alive and long after they died. The passing into night only made them more aggressive.
As he pondered his own fate a flash flash of light caught his eye. The beam so bright he had to step back to recover from it. More or less knocking himself into Maryse as she caught up beside him. What was it? He tried to work the bright pink and green after image out of his sight. With little time to spare he gave up trying to identify it himself. Shooting a bullet into the crowed he yelled, “Maryse what the hell is that?” A zombie was knocked down by the blast allowing greater view of the object in question. Little helped that offered since all of the walking dead in the area immediately focused on Leon’s position. The sounds of shuffling bodies and shrikes of there hungry husks eclipsed the area.
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