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| Dormir Pygmée[IC][Mature][Muffins!]; A post-post-apoctolyptic zombie survival mutant thingy.... | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: June 5, 2012, 7:56 am (470 Views) | |
| Kyoichi | June 5, 2012, 7:56 am Post #1 |
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DEEN!
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GM ![]() When you see this color, and the GM navi's, then you know to pay close attention and actually read the post as it shall be important to plot development and may directly effect your character's situation. Let Zeh zombeh fun begin! ~Okazaki "The Cure" Kanade~ The concept known as "time" held no meaning for the girl. She merely existed, with no when or where. Memories, dreams, things she saw and heard now, they all melded and twisted into an obscure and frighteningly realistic dream. At first she cringed in fear of the unknown, the unending chaos that assaulted her. But then, the girl realized she was in control. As she bent her reality to her will, she became content. This joyful paradise brought with it and end to all hopes of her resisting the state she was in. Completely satisfied with her lot, the girl floated in bliss. Alas, the lucid dreams of this poor girl were fated to end, and with her awakening, a true nightmare would begin. "She's due for another dosage, the last one is wearing off" "Already?" "Guess she's built up quite a tolerance. Well, let's wait just a little longer. Maybe you'll get to see her stir a bit, Mr. Okazaki." "Haha, that's not funny Leon." "Then why are you laughing?" "...." The voices were distant, like an echo. She could barely understand them, but they were getting closer. Maybe today was the day she'd meet the owner's of those voices. Probably not, she'd just fade away again, like always. Shouting gunshots, screams Someone was touching her! Or was it just her imagination again? pulling, more gunshots. Something warm and wet was all over her skin. Swirling....fuzzy lights.....silence. The world spun around the girl, who had sat up for the first time in months. Her bindings had been cut. The floor suddenly rose up to meet her face. Did it hurt? It might have, she couldn't tell yet. The girl, completely nude, stumbled around deliriously. She tripped, bounced off things, and staggered heavily. Eventually her head cleared out enough for her to know sitting down was best. The drugs were quickly wearing off. within the next few minutes, she began to form coherent thoughts. A few more minutes after that, her vision cleared and she felt ready to stand. Her wide and dazed eyes had snapped back into the narrow, serious expression that normally adorned her small face. The tiny girl slowly got to her feet. She looked around the room. It was dimly lit as many of the lights had been broken on the ceiling. All she saw was death and destruction around her. Men in lab coats soaked red were sprawled about everywhere, joined by men in mismatched clothing. They all had AK-47's, at least that's what the weapons looked like to the girl. Many of the scientists still grasped the pistols they had used to fight back with. She herself was soiled by quickly drying crimson, but appeared to be unharmed. Her hair was a mess, but left long for some reason. Why would these men abduct her but leave her with the dignity of having hair? Searching the names of the scientists, she discovered they were of varying ethnicites. As she held one ID, she noticed how badly her hands were shaking. She was in shock, but had yet to have realized it. This was so surreal....worse so than her unending lucid state. She came to one of the last bodies, seeing this man was middle aged and asian. "uh!" She exclaimed, a look of shock on her face. Tears welled up in her eyes as the truth hit her like a meteor. Okazaki Takada, her father. What were they doing to her.... One hour later, the girl was dressed. Her face was chalk white, and yet determined. Figuring out her father's password on a nearby computer, she had skimmed through records of the last two years, all about her. She was a cure for some kind of virus, one that had spread across the world. She was currently in an underground lab in Moscow. Leaving the lab, she found herself in a living area for the scientists. It didn't take long for her to find her father's belongings. Among them was one of her High School uniforms. He had kept it all these years...... Provisions, a .45 pistol, ammo, printed out copies of the lab's data, and a shower. These essential things the girl had gathered as quickly as possible. She knew she couldn't stay in this place. She didn't know who the men were that had attacked this place, but she couldn't be sure more wouldn't come. Pistol strapped to her right thigh, hidden by her skirt, and hair pulled back into a ponytail, the girl began to look for the exit. With weak legs that hadn't been used in two years, Okazaki Kanade was about to venture out into a world that was slowly tearing itself apart. Edited by Kyoichi, June 5, 2012, 7:58 am.
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The Group
if a fly had no wings would it be called a walk?
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| Third Time | June 7, 2012, 5:43 pm Post #2 |
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May 2012 Member of the Month
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Mikhail Volkov rode his dirt bike through the abandoned streets of St. Petersburg, slowly weaving around abandoned cars, bits of debris, and more than a few gnawed bodies. Clearly, the families with infected relatives he had turned away at Vyborg were not the only ones who had hoped that the rumors of a cure would give them back their loved ones. Idiots. At the end of the street, he saw a pair of infected, clumsily hammering at a closed door. They looked back towards him, and though he was sure they couldn't see him with their decayed eyes, his small motorcycle made enough noise, and all the ones he had encountered before seemed perfectly able to smell him. As they lumbered towards him, he considered drawing his pistol. No, bullets will be hard to find now. He shut down his dirt bike, calmly put down the kickstand. One of the zannights put its foot into a pothole and fell. It would have been funny, if they weren't trying to eat him. Drawing his bowie knife, he walked calmly to meet the nearest. It flailed, moaning, until he kicked it hard in the gut. As it folded weakly over his boot, he slammed the massive knife through the monster's head with an eerie casualness, and it fell like a puppet with its strings cut. One vicious yank freed the weapon from the monster's skull just as the second was starting to get back up. Mikhail calmly lined up his aim, and hurled the knife. It hit the zannight in the neck, severing the spinal column with a gristly crunch. The monster fell, its jaws still snapping though its limbs no longer worked. Mikhail flipped the prone monster onto its back with his foot, and considered how to pull his knife out of it's throat without getting bit. It wouldn't do anything serious, but getting bit still hurt. A faint look of frustration on his face, he picked up a broken piece of the curb, weighing the hefty chunk of concrete thoughtfully, then smashed the zannight's brains out. Picking his knife out the gore, he wiped it clean on the zannight's shirt, and started heating the blade in the flame of a disposable lighter, sterilizing it and burning off the last of the zannight-goo. He looked up at the building the zannights had been trying to break into. It was an apartment complex. "Anyone in there? It's safe to come out now." |
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Ask me something here, or read my blog, Yelling about Everything. See my duel with out resident Greek Hero here. And never forget, Timekeeper is way more awesome than you will ever be. | |
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| Achilles | June 8, 2012, 7:08 am Post #3 |
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June 2012 Member of the Month
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Carlos heard a motorcycle in the distance and was starting to panic. He had come into this building to ambush to zannight, but there were 3 in here that had in turn ambushed him and now some asshole looter on a motorcycle! When he had walked inside his sun tattoo came off of his body and had started to generate light, needles to say, the already alerted zannight were now headed in his exact direction. He was hoping to be quiet but if he was quiet he'd also be dead. He threw his arms at the two closest zannight. The chain tattoos on his arms shot off of his arms and wrapped around them. He slung his left arm back as hard as he could and sent the zannight flying through the door sever feet behind him. With only one currently in his grasp to worry about he retracted the left chain, put both hands on his right chain and used it to slam the zannight head first into the cement wall behind him. IWitha nice, resounding Squelch he retracted his right chain know the second was done for. When he turned to the third he was surprised to see it had changed direction. Someone outside had called out before he eviscerated the second Zannight. He picked up a piece of a rafter that made a nice bat, he lined up a perfect shot with it and waited for the zannight to walk right into it. CRACK Oh it sounded just like hitting a baseball getting hit. He took the club with him and went outside. As he went his sun tattoo went back to his leg. He totally ignored the man standing by the door. He charged to the zannight that was still in the process of getting up. He took a running kick and nailed the zanninght in the head with all of his force. Just like football! he thought as it sailed back to the ground and rolled a foot. He then proceeded to beat its head to a nice lumpy pulp, kinda like old orange juice. He turned to the man standing outside. His phoenix lifted off leaving a trail of red ink in the air.His scorpion crawled down his arm back ink falling gracefully from him. He reached under his shirt and pulled the two revolvers and pointed them at this new man. He pulled back both hammers. Gringo, estás aquí para atornillar conmigo? Porque yo le pondré final a su vida más rápido de lo que crees, cabrón Translation
Edited by Achilles, June 9, 2012, 7:55 am.
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Nihil Temptatum, Nihil Potitum "I wish none of this had ever happened" "So do all who see such times, but that is not for them to decide, all you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given with you" "Youre ugly" "Youre drunk" "That may be...but tomorrow morning. I'll be sober, and youll still be ugly" | |
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| Deleted User | June 10, 2012, 8:20 am Post #4 |
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Deleted User
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Tula, Russia. Valentina Borislava. "Добро пожаловать в мою ловушку, вы мало насекомых."*1 Spoken softy, the tongue of the mother land was no less intimidating. Valentina Borislava skittered silently down the crumbling remains of a brick wall, tenaciously stalking her latest victim from within the thin veil of shadows that blanketed the dilapidated husk of what once was an apartment. The cowardly little girl had been running for some time now, she'd fallen and scraped her poor little knee, drawing the attention of several nearby хромой мозги*2; aka zannights. Valentina had taken to calling them "хромой мозги*2" due to their normally mindless behavior. "No, please, leave me alone!" The young, more than likely preteen girl cried out, unaware of the even greater threat that loomed just above her. Clumsily, the lame-brains had backed the unfortunate little treat into a corner. She had made their "job" much easier than it would have been, had someone with higher survival instinct been their target. However, it would be such a waste to let the tender little morsel be consumed by such distasteful creatures. Quietly, Valentina dropped down from her perch on the wall and landed just behind the two lame-brains. Before either of them could react, they were both re-dead. The one two Valentina's right was effortlessly impaled by her tail, straight through the base of the skull and out through the face; sending a horrible foul smelling mixture of rotten flesh and blood flying onto the little girl. The one closest to Valentina met it's fate at the same time, but instead it fell victim to her vicious maw. Her teeth had met the lame-brains soft flesh at the nape of the neck, and quickly found itself without a brain-stem. Swallowing her little mouthful of delectability, Valentina raised a dirty hand to wipe the blood from her face; only succeeding in smearing it across her lips and cheek. Tossing the limp carcasses aside, she turned her attention to the little girl. "Don't being afraid. I won't hurt you." Her English was not as good as it could have been, but she had gotten her message across; even if it were a farce. Her looks could not hide her intent though, and her hideousness betrayed her. The little girl with red hair, dressed in rags, and standing no higher than the average trash-bin, took flight, running as fast as her bare feet could carry her. Her efforts were in vain however, for the pursuit was quick and easy. In moments the four-armed woman was upon her, grasping her tightly and lifting her from the ground. No amount of pounding from her tiny fits could stop the beast, and in several large bites, nothing remained of the child save for the tattered blood-soaked rags Valentina had coughed up. A twisted grin caked with fleshy remnants, Valentina pondered where the child could have come from. Finding such succulent meat was a rare commodity. Perhaps where there was one, there would be more. Maybe a father or mother was nearby, siblings in tow. Translation, Language: Russian.
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| Blue | June 12, 2012, 12:46 pm Post #5 |
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The Token Australian
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Current Location: Vladimirskaya Oblast, 30 Kilometres East of Gus-Khrustalny. Dave, The True Blue. Dave loved trekking through the forests of Russia. There was plenty of food out there, the virus itself even having trouble infecting some of the wildlife. It was strange how that worked, but who was he to speculate? And another bonus? No Zannights out in the cold, harsh and unforgiving forests. Nope, just Dave and the wilderness, like it had been before all the world had gone to shit. The infection had barely touched this section of the country it seemed and not for days had he even encountered a single Zanimal. Every so often a town would appear in front of him, but he'd just skip right on by it. He had very little ammunition left as far as pistol rounds went - probably about 4 more clips. But he still had his bow. And four quivers full of arrows. One strapped to either arm, one on his back and one clipped to the back pockets of his pants. Ah, the perks of being a monstrously strong mutant. The weight of objects didn't seem to matter anymore. His knapsack was slung over his left shoulder on one strap. And his hands were totally free to pull his knife from its sheath or punch a face into a globby mess at any time. Good luck to anything that thought that it'd get the slip on him. They'd have more luck trying to kill a group of fully grown black bears, with a hand tied behind their back. And speaking of the wildlife. Off in the distance, the monster man caught sight of a long, striped tail slink away behind a large tree. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of animal it belonged to. Dave was intrigued; the Siberian Tigers were supposed to live much further east than where they were now. A little more specifically, they were supposed to live thousands of kilometres away from here. He’d never tangled with one before; he’d just heard people yakking on about them in the safety camps. About how their numbers were dwindling, even further now that the infection had wiped a couple hundred of them out. In which case it was probably just best to leave it be. Nothing good would come from killing it. Extinction wasn’t fun for anybody. The Hunter was just about to take off on a detouring path when he heard it. A loud and angry roar resonated through the forest and sparked further intrigue in Dave’s mind. What was it that the tiger found that had it so riled up? Without another thought on the matter the Hunter was on the move, bow in hand and arrow primed. As he edged closer, he caught flashes of the Tiger’s pelt in between trees. The creature roared again, but this time something felt off. Like it was being forced to defend itself. Dave notched his arrow, prepared to protect himself from whatever the hell was around that corner. Inch by inch, he finally stacked up against the last tree. Everything was quiet save for the padding of paws on the ground nearby. The tiger was too preoccupied with its own problems to notice him arrive. And when the Hunter leant quietly around so that he could see the Tiger, he understood exactly why the poor thing seemed so on edge. Glaring down at the tiger with big red eyes was the biggest wolf Dave had ever seen! By his estimation the beast’s head would at the very least come up to his own shoulders; if it was able to stand up on its hind legs, he didn’t even wanna think about it. Its pelt was a dark brown colouring, except for around its muzzle which was white as snow. But the thing that caught Dave’s attention most was the off-red patch that was spread out under the front of its maw. The fur around it was all gone, leaving a horrible red fleshy patch. The Hunter was shocked. There was no way that thing was a Zanimal. It would have been much more feral looking. And just by seeing it he knew that the canine still had its sight. As if to affirm the fact, the Wolf snarled at its opponent and bared those massive chompers. Nope, it wasn’t a Zanimal. Having been around animals for such a long time, Dave could tell from the sounds it was making. The snarl had been lower and gruffer, but that was just thanks to the wolf’s sheer size. A Zanimal would’ve made a sound similar to an angry cough. But if it wasn’t a zombie, then how did it get that big?! A mutant like me, maybe? That’d be nice. I could use myself a companion out here... It’d be just like Jackie Boy back home. The warm memories of his dingo friend almost made the decision for him. If he could just get it to submit, the rest would be easy. But... how to go about that..? Oh, I know. the remnants of a smirk touched upon the hunter’s lips. The tiger hadn’t moved an inch since it’d arrived, and was still growling uneasily. Taking a deep breath in, Dave activated his Hyper-focus before stepping out into the open. As expected, both feline and canine took notice of him as soon as he made his moved. “You’re not sure where to go now, are ya, mate?” he laughed at the tiger. It was beautiful; the colours on its pelt so vibrant and its eyes withheld so much confusion; or was it anger? The Wolf didn’t move, still glaring and growling its own deep tune. “Well, I’m sorry. But you won’t be going anywhe—“ the Tiger growled as though it could understand what he was saying, and didn’t like it. Like it knew what was going to happen next. But it didn’t. Dave did. There was only one outcome: An endangered species with even more to worry about. The hunter pulled back on his bow string before firing a goading shot straight at the ground behind the striped beast. It jumped back immediately, and coiled in preparation for a pounce. The canine remained unflinching. Exactly what Dave needed. “Hah. Gotchya!” Another arrow was already primed and ready to fire before the tiger could pounce again. At the last second before it made the jump, the Aussie took his shot and caught the stripy bastard in the eye. The beast cried out in pain, backpedalled and shook its head from side to side whilst trying to remove the stick with its paws. But to no avail. As it continued to struggle, Dave was already on the move. He’d timed it perfectly. As he closed the gap between them, the tiger reared back up onto its hind legs. The Hunter threw his right hand forward, latched onto its throat and drove it backwards into the ground. There was a sickening crunch as the creature’s windpipe – amongst other parts of its neck – were reduced to a fine red glob. When Dave retracted his hand, it was bright crimson and dripping with god knows what. “Poor bugger.” He frowned at no one in particular. Like there wasn’t a gigantic canine standing right before him. Casually, the Hunter turned to face the big guy. There was still a grin on his face. “Ah well, there’ll be others right?” The wolf wasn’t laughing. Instead, it was lunging. Dave was already prepared for that. As it came at him, he ducked down low to the ground, extending his hands to catch himself. The wolf soared over his head with a loud snarl. He waited exactly 3 seconds before rolling left twice. The animal’s attempts to bite him were met with maws filled with dirt. It was backpedalling and shaking its mouth free of the grime when Dave tackled it to the ground and landed on top of its belly. The beast seemed surprised more than anything. Obviously it’s never dealt with a stronger opponent. “Down, boy.” The wolf howled in response. Dave looked over his shoulder and laughed. “Oh, my bad darlen’. Down, girl.” That concluded the easy part. The wolf was now aware that she wasn’t the only Alpha around. The real problem now was getting her to realise she wasn’t the Alpha anymore. Dave slapped her chest firmly as he leapt off. The beast was quick to get off, shaking all the leaves off of its fur in an attempt to retain what little dignity she had left. That was when she started eyeing the tiger corpse. Slinking up close, she was just about to take a bite out of it when an arrow struck her in the foot. “Ah-ah! That’s mine.” The Hunter bellowed, drawing another arrow and burying it deep within the fallen tiger’s flank. The She-Wolf backed up from the corpse slowly and yanked the arrow out of her foot with those big, sharp fangs. Dave half expected her to stare him down and growl angrily; or perhaps attack him again. But instead she walked back over to the corpse, squatted over it and took a nice long piss. The survivalist would’ve shot another arrow at her if he hadn’t of been laughing so hard. “Well, you got some guts, don’t ya, you bitch?” The Wolf just stared back at him with those big red eyes. Didn’t look like she was ready to lay down and submit just yet... |
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'Friends will come and go, but you're stuck with your Mates forever." | |
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| Dancer | June 18, 2012, 4:30 am Post #6 |
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Member
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Clouds seemed to race past as the jet flew rapidly through the air. A different kind of cloud gathered in Jen's head. What was wrong with her? Besides the fact that she was still weak from radiation poisoning and her zombie scratch, she should be better at flying than what she was doing. Jen was being too hard on herself, per usual. A normal person would be dead by now, but she was simply weakened. Her vision continued to blur as time went on, her ears ringing through the silence. Well, it wasn't exactly silent. The noises made by the engine and the various sounds of the cockpit controls were the lullaby in the background. She was so used to them that she could hardly hear them anymore. In fact, it seemed bizarre when those constant sounds weren't audible. There was land in sight, and Jen vaguely recalled that it was probably Russia, since there seemed to be human inhabitants. It was impossible to concentrate. Everything was going in and out of focus, and the pilot's head was spinning. Her muscles started spazming, and she was sure that she was dying. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going down before giving this virus a run for its money. She was conscious, but not in control of her actions as the plane started losing altitude. The computer inside of the jet had already locked in on somewhere inside the safe zone. Moscow was the decided destination. The engine was overworking, filling the cabin with smoke as it plummeted down. Jen barely had time to press the square orange button that deployed the parachute. “Fuck” was her final thought as she lost consciousness, seconds before her craft hit the ground. First, the smell of melting metal and plastic. Then, the light of the fire seared through her eyelids. Jen opened her eyes slowly. In front of her, she saw her arm bent at a strange angle. Her craft was decimated. The front end was folded in on itself, leaving her trapped inside. Instinctively, she freed her legs and started kicking, trying to find a way out. Eventually, the steel-toed combat boots she was wearing broke through a window. When she attempted to wriggle her body out of her broken casket, she experienced a minor setback. Her arm was halfway ripped off by the shoulder. As soon as Jen saw the jagged bone and ripped flesh bleeding profusely, she started to feel the pain. Well, she thought, it couldn’t get much worse than this. Of course, that was just tempting fate, even thinking something like that. But who in the hell cared? It was just something that one said in a situation as dire as this. Ignoring the pain, she pushed her way out of the ruined fighter jet. Her arm hung limply at her side. Jen grabbed the nearest thing she could find (a joint on the wing that had broken off) and held it to her shoulder. Struggling to think through everything, she tore her sleeve off and wound it tightly around her mangled shoulder and the piece of metal. The blood-stained woman had been relying on her military training to keep her alive. Now, she decided to use it to assess her situation. Quickly scrambling up on top of the wreckage, Jen brushed her hair out of her eyes to look around. It seemed that her crash had made quite a trench in the barren ground. There was a forest to her left, and a city to her right. Fortunately, she had managed to land in a field. She decided to salvage what she could from the jet and head for the city. She hoped to whatever god was listening that there were no night-walkers around. |
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Some of the greater things in life are unseen, thats why we close our eyes when we kiss, cry or dream | |
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| Deleted User | June 19, 2012, 1:05 am Post #7 |
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Deleted User
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Girlfriend's Post East of St. Petersburg , in the rural areas Oddball Alyce, It was dawn, the sun rising over the hills, the sky a pretty pinkish purple, odd considering it was usually a dirty grey, given that it was basically the end of the world. The dew on the patches of grass (what little there was left, that is) shone like stars, and a soft ray of light penetrated a tiny burrow in the side of one of the hills. It was tiny, about the size of a foxhole, only a child could get in. Something stirred inside the den, and a mass of matted black hair poked out. A small hand pushed her mane back to reveal two big green eyes, the color of the grass around her. They darted about, very much like a animal would, not exposing anything valuable until the coast was clear. Slowly the head became a neck, then shoulders, then hips and legs, unsettlingly twisting and folding back into shape, like an air bed being filled with air after being folded into a tiny box, and then Alyce’s tiny form was revealed . Alyce stretched, like a cat does when it gets up from a nap, mumbling something incoherent, and reached back into the den to grab her new doll, Kate, which was made out of rags, fishing line and garbage bags, her face being sloppily drawn on with crayons. A big grin surfaced when Alyce saw it, she fingered the garbage bag dress affectionately, saying “Kate, you look pretty today, I just love your new dress! Where’d you get it?” And of course, Kate answered “Why you made it mommy, and mommy is the prettiest mommy there is, and the nicest!” Alyce patted the doll’s lopsided head, smiling pleasantly, as if the doll had really spoken to her. Today was going to be a good day, she decided right then and there. Alyce had a lot of good days, no matter what happened, Alyce seemed to have only had a handful of bad days in her life, even though others would say other wise. Humming a tune, she adjusted her rags and said aloud, this time to no one in particular. “Today is cleaning day, I better get moving!” Nodding her head in resignation, she half disappeared into the den, it was quite small, and pulled out her nest of rags and a quantity of 'pretty things’ , things Alyce had found , like bits of tinfoil, rings, anything shiny, sort of like a magpie. Once she got that all out, a good pile of things, she went back in and pulled out a couple books, one ironically was a semi-ruined Alice in Wonderland. Pulling a rope from the pile of junk, she strung it on the two nearby dead trees and began hanging her rags on it, something she had seen moms do on TV before. Now, she was singing and dancing to the song in her head, “Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk and talk, or something something something. Is he alive or dead? something something...” Alyce loved that song, even though she could not remember lots of it, she could remember the music, and swayed rhythmically to it “Nobody wants him, they just turn their heeeaaaaddddsss!” Still singing and dancing, she began half sorting her pile of junk, tossing ones that she no longer cared about to the left of the hole, pushing the rest back in, except for two broken tea cups, a jug of water, and her favorite book, Alice in Wonderland. This Alyce set Kate in front of her, placing a tea cup, it had ivy on it, and filled it with water, and did the same for her cup, the rose one. She laid down on her belly, and then lifted her hips so her legs were in the air, and picked up the book with her feet, opening and holding it to the tea party scene, and began sipping her 'tea’ with her hands, reading for the hundredth time about Wonderland. Only trouble was, to Alyce, her world wasn’t much different than Wonderland, which could be a good thing about being a little, well, off. She carried on with her ‘tea time’ until her ear caught the telltale sound of wheezing and groaning the ‘meanies’ had. In a flash, grasping Kate, Alyce was up and alert. A clumsy, slow form was shuffling over toward her, its decaying hands held out, and its disgusting maw open, as if waiting to eat her. Alyce ran to the nearby dead tree, pulled off a thick branch, and ran at the meaning, hitting it violently in the head several times, knocking it back a bit. Swinging again with all her might, she struck its head with a sickening crunch, which yielded a satisfied smile from Alyce. It fell, its bloodshot eyes shooting about until it finally stopped all movement. Alyce put down the branch, humming a different song this time, dragging the 'meanie’ away from her hovel, and then grabbed some twigs, intent on starting a fire. As the flames grew, her face was illuminated in a red glow, like blood. She was still grinning, putting down Kate for a moment, she fished a knife from inside her rags, and sliced on a new place, the top of her wrist. As the hot liquid flowed down her hand, she picked Kate up, getting blood on her. Looking at her doll again, she said in a pleased voice, “Kate, you look so lovely in red.” This time, Kate stayed silent, which was just as well because Alyce started singing again, “In the fields a body’s burning....something something.. no more war pigs of destructioooooonnnn....” Blood dripped down her fingers, hitting the ground, which had already seen enough blood over the centuries, it soaked up the fresh blood like rain. |
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| Kyoichi | June 21, 2012, 4:30 am Post #8 |
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DEEN!
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GM![]() Mikhail and Carlos: Luckily for these two, a large explosion a few miles away goes off, shaking the ground and attracting all the surrounding zannights. Unfortunately, the same explosion has caused random buildings to begin falling down, namely the 4 closest to our Russian and Hispanic friends. Glass, chunks of wall, and other assorted items will soon be falling down on their heads if they don't get moving. Valentina: Valentina is going to get her wish, as there is a small band of scavenger's one floor up searching for the lost little girl. They are all armed with assorted fire arms, and a few have flash lights. Hearing her cries, they are quickly moving in towards Valentina's location. If her hearing is sharp enough, Valentina just might overhear a conversation revealing where there are many more meals living with their guard down, just waiting to be eaten. Dave: While the She-wolf is the Alpha of the area, she isn't the only mutant member of her pack. Flanking Dave, two other obviously mutated pack members stalk quietly into the open, staring him down. One is another female, missing her left eye. The other is male, and is the largest of the 3. They do not look pleased that Dave is intruding on their territory... Jen: Finally succumbing to her wounds and sickness, Jen passes out, the last thing within her vision being that of several Zannights moving towards her. Jen will soon awake the following night, in a "hospital" within a safe zone in Moscow. Her shoulder has been bandaged, but the scrap of jet she had pressed against it is still clutched in her hand. She awakes to the scene of a man with a gun arguing with the one that patched her up. Her zannight wounds did not go unnoticed. It's going to take some smooth talking to convince the people around her that she's not going to turn. Within the heated argument, she hears mention of a certain person in this very city that is supposed to be able to cure the virus all together. The little oddball: Alyce's vision is suddenly flooded white as the headlights of a car fill her field of view. A woman in her early 30's steps out of the car, rushing towards the poor little girl who is bleeding. She begins talking in a soft voice about going to "A safe place" and "Making her boo-boo's all better". There is no animosity coming from this woman, as though she truly has naught but pure intentions. Sainko and her dingle berry side kick: Hearing a strange, harmonized noise emanating from dozens of throats, Sainko looks back to see the frozen terrain seem to crawl with life. A large swarm of Zanimal Arctic foxes have caught onto Ivan's scent. He just smells so tasty.... Luckily, just over the next ridge, Sainko will see a motionless behemoth of a passenger train lying on it's tracks 10 yards away. It functions perfectly, if they can figure out how to get it moving. And of course, who knows what kind of fellow travelers will be waiting for them within. The Cure: Kaede barely makes it outside of the inconspicuous building hiding the secret underground lab before another wave of armed men assault it. She barely gets away unnoticed, just to be stalked by a scruffy bum 10 minutes later. He thinks he is being stealthy, but he's far too drunk to be quiet. With her legs turning to jelly under her, Kaede is going to face her first survival decision: flee, fight, or be taken under. |
The Group
if a fly had no wings would it be called a walk?
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| That Butler | November 14, 2012, 3:30 am Post #9 |
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Bad Jew
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This roleplay is closed due to inactivity or by request of the Game Master. Please contact one of the Roleplaying Moderators to have it reinstated.
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5:54 PM Jul 13
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5:54 PM Jul 13