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Old 07-27-2009, 09:09 AM   #41
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Default Re: Zombie Survival RPG 2

You have to choose another place.NYC is full.
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Old 07-27-2009, 09:19 AM   #42
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You have to choose another place.NYC is full.
Done.
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Old 07-27-2009, 12:39 PM   #43
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Default Re: Zombie Survival RPG 2

There are 3 reasons Souperzombie's character is not acceptable;

1. It is a character from a different universe.
2. The virus doesn't exactly work like that.
3. Surviving UCA-12 researchers play a very vital role in the storyline.
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Old 07-28-2009, 04:21 AM   #44
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There are 3 reasons Souperzombie's character is not acceptable;

1. It is a character from a different universe.
2. The virus doesn't exactly work like that.
3. Surviving UCA-12 researchers play a very vital role in the storyline.
1. Wha?
2. The virus didnt work like that in Prototype, yet he still got his awesome powers.
3. He lost all his memory when he became the virus.
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Old 07-28-2009, 07:48 AM   #45
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1. Wha?
2. The virus didnt work like that in Prototype, yet he still got his awesome powers.
3. He lost all his memory when he became the virus.
1. Alex Mercer is from Prototype. Just like I wouldn't allow Bill Overbeck or Leon Kennedy, I won't allow Alex Mercer.

2. The virus wasn't really specified too well from what I hear. UCA-12 attacks the mind and only the mind; it leaves corpses alone.

3. That wouldn't change the fact that he researched UCA-12.
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Old 07-29-2009, 03:55 PM   #46
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Default Re: Zombie Survival RPG 2

This game will begin after SZ posts character revisions.
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Old 07-31-2009, 11:05 AM   #47
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Default Re: Zombie Survival RPG 2

I want to play.
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Old 07-31-2009, 11:16 AM   #48
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I want to play.
I sent SZ a PM earlier; if he does not reply by tomorrow, the game will begin without him.
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Old 07-31-2009, 11:52 AM   #49
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Default Re: Zombie Survival RPG 2

OOC: For the first week I'm going to hang out in the asylum.(And by that I mean I'll be gone for a week. Be back on Saturday or Sunday.)
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Old 08-01-2009, 09:41 AM   #50
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Default Re: Zombie Survival RPG 2

Ill make a completely different character instead;

Name: Cpt. Steven Cross
Bio: Steven Cross was captain of a secret counter-biological unit called 'Darkwatch'. He was one of the few survivors in the whole of Darkwatch, only surviving by using his experience of many harsh battles to survive.

Weapons: Maverick M4A1 Carbine + Silencer, Night Hawk.50c, 2 explosive grenades and 1 flashbang
Vehicle: APC (no weapons) (If not acceptable, none)
Provisions: Rations for 3 days
Other equipment: A notebook, 2 pens, 3 clips for nighthawk, 2 magazines for M4A1
Personality: Agressive but cautious
Age: 38
Area: London
Location: In an abandoned military base.
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Old 08-01-2009, 10:07 AM   #51
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Default Re: Zombie Survival RPG 2

The game will be up later today. I'll accept Stephen Cross (despite his bio having 2 references to the game Darkwatch, they are vague enough that I'll accept it (no vampires though))
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Old 08-01-2009, 10:45 AM   #52
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The game will be up later today. I'll accept Stephen Cross (despite his bio having 2 references to the game Darkwatch, they are vague enough that I'll accept it (no vampires though))
Darkwatch is a game? I just altered the name 'Blackwatch' from Prototype.
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Last edited by souperzombie; 08-01-2009 at 10:46 AM. Reason: added smilie ololo
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Old 08-01-2009, 11:30 AM   #53
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Default Re: Zombie Survival RPG 2

After taking a second look at it, London is filled. You will need to relocate.
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Old 08-01-2009, 02:34 PM   #54
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OOC: Since you previously chose Crown Jewel as your starting area, I stuck Steven in there. Also, since I'm using it now, the OOC rule will be enforced. The story begins now (I'll finish polishing the reference bios later; just look through the forum for now). Also, at the end of each of my posts except this one, I'll list parties. You can only control people in your party (exclusions; the admin (myself) and the mods (TyTBone and .Blue Dwarf. By the way, if you're wondering why I chose them, they are the only 2 who stuck with the original until the end) can use other people's parties in their posts)

Tyler stands over the corpses of the zombies he has just slain, a slightly worried expression on his face. "I hope I don't find any more of them before I get a chance to get a bite to eat. Some clean water would be good too." he thought. He had not expected to find zombies in a private home like this; most of them stayed in the streets, preying on those foolish enough to show their faces. He digs into the fridge, and finds two bottles of water. He opens the fridge and finds some steak that is still good. "Finally, something good to eat. Now I just need to find somewhere to cook this..." He opened the pantry to see if he could snag some canned soup or cereal bars, and found various food items covered by a disgusting goop he had seen some zombies spitting. It obviously wasn't vomit or bile due to it being a fluorescent green. He never touched it for fear that touching it would infect him. "Drat. Nothing in here I can save." He then heard a zombie growling behind him. He turned around, both his pistols in his hand. As he faced the zombie, he noticed something odd; there appeared to be a swollen green spot on the zombie's throat. Before he got a chance to wonder what it was, the zombie spat slime at him. He barely dodged it, but he collapsed a rickety table on his legs. Outside the window, he caught a glance of a flare going off in the night sky.

Another corner turned. Another gunshot fired. "I'm getting really sick of these kinds of looters." Paul thought as he took cover. The zombies were bad enough; these territorial, selfish, and, most of all, violent looters just complicated things. He had already killed one, but his three friends were being awfully persistent. He could tell one of them was constantly sneaking back to the hunting department to grab ammo for himself and his friends, but there was nothing Paul could do about it without getting a bullet lodged in him. He was especially concerned that they would discover his spare weapons, ammunition, and supplies he stashed in the ambulance before he fled his workplace. He needed some way to flush them out. He ought to be able to figure something out; he was a doctor taking cover behind the pharmaceuticals counter, after all. Desperately looking for something to give him the upper hand, he noticed a pack of self-lighting cigarrettes, little insidious things created back in 2011 that gave him no end of patients coming in with health issues due to one of the self-lighting ingredients was dangerous to lung health. However, he quickly figured out a good use for the infernal devices. He lit a cigarrette, then the package. He heard one of the looters yell "Is he seriously lighting up during a gunfight?" He did not expect the improvised smoke grenade that went flying into his cover point. Paul took the opportunity and disarmed the looters. He then stated very sternly "Look, I'm a doctor and I was raised in a good family, so I don't like killing, but I will if I have to." One of them was to stunned to say anything, but the other said "Alright, we surrender. However, I'd like to look for my buddy. He went back to get us ammunition and a bite to eat, but he hasn't been back in a really long time. He's been a buddy of mine for seven years, since I was a freshman in highschool." "Explains why they're so arrogant; they're still young." mused Paul in his head. "Okay, I'll help. Let's see if we can find him on the security film." Then a bright light flew up in the parking lot across the street.

Hugh was treated by a screech and a resounding thud as he finally cut open a hole in the storm drain in the basement. "Whew," he said out loud, "now I have an emergency escape." He fought back a wince as he detected fear in his voice, an emotion he had not expressed since pilot training a dozen years back after he nearly crashed. He hadn't got a chance to see if his girlfriend was alright after the zombies overran the city. He really needed to get out of here. He heard on the news when the TV still worked that the government had pretty much collapsed; Obama was evacuated from D.C., and then never seen or heard from since. Maybe nobody would mind if he took that helicopter atop the building. "That's what I should do," he muttered, "but it would mean going through the sewers." He didn't care about sludge; he was concerned about a lack of knowledge of how many zombies were in the sewer and the sewers being difficult to navigate and manuever in. He then heard a loud bang of the door. Then another. Then another. "I need to get out of here!" he said aloud, now not caring of the obvious level of fear in his voice as he slid into the sewers of New York City. As he was sliding in, he saw a flare go off in the distance through the fortified window.

OOC: Be patient; I'll finish typing the other starting scenes shortly. Wait until they're all up to start posting.
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Old 08-01-2009, 04:20 PM   #55
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No memories. No, shreds of memories. That is all left worth clinging too for the Gunman. The world is lost. His former life is lost. His family is lost. Even knowledge of his own name and age lost. Nothing mattered except what was in his head and in front of it. He heard a port in Wales was still running. He hoped to reach it and get back to Canada and try to rediscover who he was. A grim expression on his silent face, he blasts away all zombies and looters who dare attempt to hold him back. Maybe in the past he would have cared more for those lost, maybe not. Those thoughts and more swirling through his head, he plows his way through another horde of zombies. Then, a horror leaps down in front of him. He has seen these monstrosities before; horrifying offshoots of zombies. These ones he knows have chitinous armor harder than Kevlar. With a blank face resembling that of a Grey- "Or was it the Roswell alien? Or was it the Politician?", they were the only challenge to him, as the only way to kill them was to light their hide ablaze, or, presumably, freeze them. However, he used his last molotov burning down a different beast. The beast approached him. Gunman, fearing for his life, desperately unloads every variety of weapon he has on the beast. Nothing works. He trips backwards on a car. Panicking, he kicks the fuel line on the car's open hood open, sending gasoline flying all over the beast, stunning it. Seeing his opportunity, he flings a pipe bomb onto the monster. The pipe bomb explodes, setting the beast ablaze. However, the beast somehow survived, relatively unscathed. They must be mutating again. Gunman, realizing his situation as hopeless, flees into a back alley and breaks a window open, entering the house. He then realizes that he has broken into a house filled with zombies. They do not seem to have noticed him, but he is trapped, and, if he fires his gun, he will draw the attention of the armored beast searching for him.

After much consideration, I have decided to stay in the asylum. I have scouted the place out, but, while I was scouting, a zombie lept from a room and bit me. I hope I'm immune, but recently I've been getting horrible headaches and gutaches. My thoughts have been slipping away from me even faster and I've been twitching uncontrollably. I hope these are just withdrawal symptoms from the mental drugs.
Oh.... no.... my skins ben getn paal, I can harly consentrat enuf to rit, and I cant remembr much english... the other things hav been getin wrs... this may be my last entry....
-Journal of Red
After writing his last entry, Red lost control of his mind; he has joined the horde.

Weeks of wandering have passed since he lost his family and friends from the plague. Kieve wanders the streets of London alone. He is haunted by the memories of all those he cared for in life dying at his hands after they were infected. He then stumbles upon a dog, looking to be a pitbull, possibly with some mix breed origins, being mobbed by a small group of zombies. Kieve is limited on ammunition, but not sure he can stand to watch someone or something else die at the hands of zombies. Despite the fact that he sees claw and bite marks on the dog, he knows it can be saved, as, according to news reports he watched before the zombies overran his home, the virus targeted humans solely, meaning that the dog would not be infected. However, the zombies, being hostile towards everything but other zombies, are known for killing animals. Kieve ponders this as the dog snarls at the zombies, ready to fight. However, Kieve knows the dog does not stand a chance on its own...

OOC: Keep being patient, the rest will be up by tomorrow.
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Old 08-01-2009, 05:18 PM   #56
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After a long day of fishing in the ocean, Bob finally pulled a good-sized fish out. "Around time. I need some food; I'm starvin'!" Bob remarked. He returned to his small hut and threw the fish on a thin rock on top of a fire. He hasn't seen many zombie marauders prowling around, but he read a book on combat while waiting for his dinner to cook anyways. He pulled the fish off the rock after he was done and while he was eating the fish and reading his book, he felt parched by the daytime heat. He went to his water storage, stored away from his cabin in case the cabin got raided by looters or zombies, but, to his horror, he finds all his water gone and signs of a violent struggle along with zombie corpses, indicating looters. He rushed back to his cabin, grabbing his dual .9mm pistols and a few cans of spam and stuffed them in his pockets, along with a few books. He then set off to find an oasis. However, he knows that, for an unknown reason, every other oasis he's seen has been overrun by zombies. He distinctly recalls the long-armed tree dwelling zombies that ambushed him last time he went out for water. Due to the encounter, he broke his left ring finger, and has not been able to find a cast for it. Wincing, Bob pulls aside a branch and faintly sees what looks like an oasis less than a day's walk away. However, he also sees zombies blocking his way.

Michael was exhausted. He had been scouring the Outback for days for water, and had not found anything more than some rainfall built up on a leaf, let alone anything to eat. When Sydney was attacked by the horde, he was seperated from his foster parents, and got lost in this blasted desert. He could barely muster the stregnth to both walk and hold his gun at the same time. Wearily, he looks up, then blinks and rubs his eyes, then looks again. He sees an oasis ahead of him, albeit one guarded by zombies. Still, just the sight of water soothes his thoroughly dried throat for a moment and gives him a small but neccessary boost of energy. He takes a few steps forward, aims his gun up to the nearest zombie's head and pulls the trigger.

Naielli steps out of the brush. The scent of zombies and gunsmoke linger in the air. Prepared for a vicious gunfight with a group of looters, he pulls out his boomstick and sneaks to a better vantage point. To his suprise, he finds out that for once the armed survivors were not the winners of this fight. Weighing the risks and benefits, Naielli decides against provoking a fight. It wasn't worth it over the miniscule food supplies the survivors had. When he turns around, he finds the worst thing possible he could find; a mutant offshoot of the generic zombie he called the Flashing Screamer. It was a normal zombie, except it could screech to ear-splitting volumes, attracting zombies, and flash extremely brightly, causing effects similar to flash-bang grenades. Before it could stun and infect him, Naielli shot the Screamer in the face, knowing that the zombies behind him would be on his trail before he knew it. He ran as fast as he could, setting his target as the overran oasis he had located several days previously, due to knowing a way through the horde guarding it.

OOC: Be patient a little bit longer.
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Old 08-01-2009, 06:21 PM   #57
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George was relaxing for once in a long while. He had, for once, managed to scavenge enough food to feed him and his sister for more than a day at a time. It was the first time he had eaten well since his parents were taken by the virus. It had been hard-earned, though; the restaurant he plundered it from was surrounded by a seemingly-endless horde of zombies. He wondered why there were so many zombies there; he didn't think that many were left in the city. He comes up with a theory and peers up, confirming his worst fears; an absolutely immense wave of zombies, a black tide rushing towards the city. The survivors had no chance of survival. Their only choice is to escape across the sea.

Max stalked through the abandoned tunnels under Beijing. He hadn't seen a sign of zombies or survivors in weeks. His only company was the rats lurking down here with him. He walked to his food stock. "Man, I'm almost out." he said. "Need to go back up and get some." He resurfaced neighboring a restaurant, smelling strongly of gunsmoke and littered with zombified bodies. "What happened here? I though I was the only one left!" muttered Max. "Ah well. As long as there's food in that restaurant, it doesn't matter."

OOC: I'll finish up tomorrow. Inspiration and motivation have left me. I'll see if I can do better tomorrow.
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Old 08-01-2009, 07:51 PM   #58
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EDIT: Oops, didn't notice that, please ignore this post.
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Old 08-01-2009, 08:03 PM   #59
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OOC: Error forgiven. However, a note I was reminded by the error; try not to end your posts with "and then..." or similar things. Finish them with complete sentences. I forgot to say this earlier.
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Old 08-02-2009, 08:10 AM   #60
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"I wish I was home." "I wish I had my family." "I wish I had my cat." "I wish my mind would just accept that some wishes never come true." thought Furby. He knew he was going to die here, in the ruins of the once-great city of Beijing. He was determined to take down as many of the zombies as he can before he goes down himself. "They've taken my home, my family, my cat, and my life." he thought vehemently. He finally saw some of his mark; a small group of the monsters charging at him through the streets. He only vaguely heard their unintelligible roars and screams as he descended into a fit of violent rage against the zombies as he did all too often, despite formerly being a pacifist. He came back to finding a pile of zombified corpses at his feet. He then realized those were the first zombies he's seen in days. "Wonder where they all went..." He then wandered back down the street, slightly hungry, back to his small "safehouse", which was little more than a few pieces of debris from the skyscraper the MLCR collapsed before the end of civilization piled over the openings of a bus that was either broken or lacking gas. However, as he was wandering back, something caught his eye; a bright-red container of gasoline. "Might as well try this on the bus." he thought as he picked it up. He then continued his walk back to his safehouse, wondering if he had eaten the rest of the fast food he had scavenged out of that abandoned McDonalds.

Fury. Oppression. That is what Steven Cross, a former marine, felt under Brent Kimmey's rule. "You would think he'd give it up after causing a global disaster." he thought. He lived in a small house packed with his distant relatives due to a lack of jobs in this forsaken town. He was currently gazing out the window at the sunset, which, admitedly, looked pretty good when viewed alongside the Redeemer's Palace. "The palace of the false redeemer, more like it." All Brent Kimmey had caused was death and destruction; he heard he even executed his own brother after freeing the poor guy from Guantanamo. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud banging on the door. "Another city-wide house check? What, does he think we're sheltering his 'evil children'?" By 'evil children', of course, he meant the zombies. They had taken his parent's and sibling's lives. Except his younger brother's. Thinking back, Aron was lucky. He was killed in the MLCR raid on Guantanamo. He never had to see a zombie as long as he lived. Steven went to open the door when two Loyalist Security men came in. One of them yelled "We're here to for the traitor! Nobody helps him if they wish to see another day!" "Traitor? Who could they mean?" though Steven. They then pinned Alado, his best friend since he got here, to the ground and led him through the door. Steven ran to the door, praying silently that Alado would come out of this. He was awakened to streets by the sound of the killing shot. Alado fell to the ground, his eyes glazed over. "This is what happens to those who dare speak or act against the Redeemer!" yelled one of the Loyalists. "May his followers consider this an example of what happens to those not worthy!" Steven was speechless, all his senses dulled by pain and fury. His face glowed red. His hand dropped to the Nighthawk he left concealed in his pocket at all times. "Now is not the time, Steven," said a voice behind him as a hand grabbed his shoulder, "your time for vengeance will come." He looked behind him to see Aunt Mahalia. She was not actually related to him at all, but everyone referred to her as Aunt, although he was pretty sure nobody he knew was her niece or nephew. "What do you mean? Was Alado actually involved in a conspiracy?" Steven asked. "In a way, yes." answered Aunt Mahalia. "But we need your help Steven. I have been looking for weeks for a chance to ask for your assistance." "Who are you?" asked Steven. "We are the Masonic Revolution. We were Freemasons, but we have abandoned their too-peaceful ways. A member of ours reported earlier today that he has found a crack in Kimmey's security, but we need your expert weapon skills to help us infiltrate his fortress and end his regime. We want to make an example of him as he has made of so many of our kin." "I accept." said Steven, eager to avenge Alado's death. "First, we must go through the sewers to his house. I warn you; Brent has left the cave the sewers flow out of uncovered. There are probably zombies down there." "I don't care." said Steven.

OOC: Alright, start posting!
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