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PostPosted: Tue Mar 17, 2015 3:04 pm 

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DARK TIMES


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October 21, 2015, Wednesday

Ten months passed. Mankind faced with the worst disaster in their history. Governments collapsed one by one. Cities overrunned by dead. The lucky ones who didn't die, trying to survive for another day. The dead, eating everything alive. They are rising, they are coming. Soon, YOU will join them. There is NO HOPE. No CHANCE. NOTHING can escape from it. YOU, will face them, in the weirdest way. All the time, they will be looking for you. They are getting closer each day. And other survivors, they will come too. In this world, nothing can stay alive for ever. But also, nothing can survive from every disaster. Soon... YOU will be one of them.

You will try to scavange for food, water, fuel. You'll try to build a fort, fences, defence lines. You'll try to gather people together, to form a group. You'll fight, you'll survive... Until that day. THAT DAY, will be your last day.

Doesn't matter what you know, what are you, WHO are you... There is no escape, no hope... Mankind, lost their last war, and now the remaining ones resisting against their inevitable fate.

But sometimes, that resistance grow up. Grow up enough to defend their lives, rebuild their cities, create civil society. It is possible...

Until THAT DAY.

You can survive from hunger, thirst, fights, dead... But finally, you are going to die. This is not about how you survived.

This is about, how you DIED.

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The man came closer to mic. Put on the headphones. Changed the frequency. This Radio station was working-at least for now. He wasn't sure if it was needed or not. But he just started broadcast:

"Hello to everyone who can hear my voice. It is my first broadcast. My name is Jonah. I hope many of you can listen to me. The broadcast may not be perfect, but still better than nothing. It's October 21, 2015. 10:12 A.M.

I'm gonna give informations about the world. By the world, I mean USA. Many survivors are travelling, and I think they need guide. As you know, the world is a mess now and all we can see are dead people. But it's not the worst thing you can meet out there. Humans are still the worst creatures in the world. They hunt, scavange, steal, murder, murder more, rape. They will eat you too. But not all of them. So, the best thing you can do is, not trusting anyone. Are you a woman? Great, worst things are gonna happen to you. Are you a man? Good. Worst things are gonna happen to you. I have to say, women are in greater danger. Now you going to ask me where am I, who am I and other kind of questions. It doesn't matter. I don't have a safe place.

But, I know some safe places. If you can contact me and give your location around New York and other states close to New York, I think I can help you.

I know I was terrible at my first broadcast. But I'll do it better. Now, basics, don't mess with Iron Guards. Don't mess with large groups and don't mess with me. Clear? Good.

Now time for some Music. Aces High from Iron Maiden."



(New York Survivor Broadcast)

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PostThis post was deleted by Fain on Sat Mar 28, 2015 9:19 am.
Reason: double posting
PostPosted: Sun Mar 29, 2015 4:24 am 

World building for RPs that always seem to die

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(the song) | +


Mexico, Indiana

The sound of a radio clicking on rung out through the quiet, seemingly abandoned town shortly followed by the starting of an engine. The man in the driver seat removed his gas mask replacing them with a pair of sunglasses as the music began to play from the vehicles CD player. As the music began to play on full volume the town around him seemed to come to life as the dead seemed to appear from every shadow and dark corner. As the dead began to shamble toward the vehicle, the sounds of others running toward it from across the small town, Ares revved the engine before quickly accelerating down the road. As he sped out of the town heading east, the faster of the infected sprinting after the speeding vehicle, he began to make plans for where he wanted to go now. 'I could go hit up some historical spots maybe even steal the Declaration of Independence just for the reference,' he gave a short laugh to the thought before a realization hit him, 'The alarms would probably make it hard to get near any of it if there is something on alternate power and even if they didn't go off the amount of Zs in those kinds of towns alone would make it hard to get in let alone out. Maybe I could head north I mean the dead don't seem to like the cold... well I don't like the cold much myself and I don't think I could last to long up there before I had to start robbing people for supplies. So south east or just east it is then, heck maybe I will find a boat find me an island somewhere and name myself king for life.' with that thought he sped off east bound a smile on his marking his face.

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Last edited by Blackmarket Salesman on Tue Apr 07, 2015 9:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 04, 2015 8:41 pm 

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*California*

"We don't know what to do. We are trapped in here. Please help us! Please, hear us! We don't know how much time left... But we are going to die! Please, if anyone can hear us, please contact. Help us!"

*California Survivor Broadcast*
--------------------------------------------------
*Johnny Anders, New York*

Johnny was standing on a roof of a building. He lied on the roof, pointed his scoped rifle to road. He was staying there for two hours, and finally two guys showed up. They were entering a Pharmacy. They had large bags, probably full of supplies. Johnny waited for them to get out. When they were out, he pulled the trigger twice. He shot both of them in the chest. Johnny got back, lit a cigarette and started waiting.

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PostPosted: Sun Apr 05, 2015 5:36 pm 

Rather Annoyed.

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Sacramento, California.

The low rumbling of tank treads down a paved road could be heard alongside the fairly quiet yet throaty roar of a powerful set of engines. The mere sound of the engines themselves was enough to denote the cause of the sound as some form of military vehicle, no civilian car was going to make a din quite so, powerful. The source of this, was the large grey coloured shape of a Russian BMP-3 as it trundled down the deserted Californian road. Dust and mud were splattered across it's wheels and lower hull, and a few paint scratches could be seen upon it's thick hide where stray bandits had taken pot-shots at it. It bore two flags upon it's back right, the blue, white, and red flag of the Russian Federation, and the crimson red flag of Soviet Union...the latter was not standard, but there was hardly anyone of authority to tell the crew otherwise.

Inside the vehicle, ten soldiers, three of which were crew, were sat in an orderly manner, awaiting out their trip across the Golden State. They had been sent here to see how badly the virus outbreak had affected the populace of the United States, and of Southern Canada.

Spetsnaz Major Mikhaylov Abram Dmitrievich was the commander of such a group of soldiers, and currently he was vainly working at an attempt to get radio contact with any of the surrounding survivors. The dull black radio worked just fine, but it was a matter of reaching the remnants. Hiding his accent as best as he could, Mikhaylov said his ruse down the radio. "Come in? Are there any survivors? I and my team are military soldiers bringing aid." Their plan was never to actually help these people, after all.

Setting down the radio in frustration when no reply came back, Mikhaylov looked over to his lieutenant, Alexeyev, and asked him. "How are the supplies looking currently?"
The lieutenant answered him in a respectful manner. "Sir, we have enough for around the next two or three weeks. However, fuel will be needed soon."
"Good. Perhaps we will not have kill all of these remnants then." Came a dull reply.

---------------------------------------------------------
Portland, Maine.

Lucien Oakden, Second lieutenant in the British Special Air Service, was slowly walking alongside several of the civilian remnants that composed of the group he was with. They were travelling from Maryland, and were hoping to reach Canada by the end of the week, the logic being that the less densely populated cities of Canada meant lesser zombies...hopefully. The group was ragtag at best, an amalgamation of various survivors from around the eastern seaboard, many of them were not even properly armed with firearms or the like, but then again that was why he was here.

They were passing by an old U.S Naval base, none of the ships remained in port, and the one that did looked...worse for ware, with large portions of the hull completely missing or severely dented in by unknown forces. "Bloody hell. Hate to think what kind of thing did that." Lucien had muttered as the group has examined through the ship and scavenged what remained inside of it. There was nothing of worth, and the group had merely moved further northwards towards their destination. Thankfully, it looked as though there were strength in numbers, as the group had yet to actually be attacked by a noteworthy force of other humans, there were always the deranged few zombies here and there, but never anything of real note.

"Not much further to go now mate, soon we'll be up in Canada, maybe even grab a boat back across the pond." Lucien joked with one of his friends, Charlie. They had both served in the Special Air Service at the same time, and known each other for a considerable amount of time before that.
"Aye, with any luck at least. Why we could even stop by those Danish chaps in Greenland if we wished it." Came the laughed reply, Charlie's slightly northern accent showing itself.
"If it were so easy, eh." Lucien chuckled, thinking of just how dire the situation must be around the world, especially in places that relied on other countries for supplies or goods. "I'd wager that those gents are a bit stuffed, nothing much there other than artic conditions...probably no zombies mind you." He finished, a large smile across his face.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Portland, Maine.

Zdislava Radenovic, had been travelling within the same group of ragtag survivors as Lucien and his colleagues. She had once been a doctor before the dreaded outbreak and zombie, problems that followed after. She had travelled with the group for little over a month now, leaving behind her old group after a particularly terrific argument regarding their abysmal policy of shooting everything that moved on sight. Currently, she was grasping a battered up old compass in her right hand, and a small pocket map in her left hand. The map was a representation of Maine, however she was far more concerned about their current direction and positioning. They were travelling northwards, towards Canada, in a hope of finding survivors with less zombies and more supplies.

Tracing an imaginary line with her mind over the map, she estimated that their journey, at least to the border, was in it's final stages and all that remained was to merely head north. "Not much further." She called out to the rest of the group, hoping to somehow boost morale despite what had occurred recently. They had lost two people to a running zombie, a horrific creature indeed, that was upon them before they had half a chance to fire their weapons at it. Even thinking of it made Zdislava shudder with dread. These creatures were nothing short of downright nightmares as it were, they needed no extra help.

Zdislava was jumpy after that, and still currently was. She had even taken to not fully enclosing her pistol's holster just in case she was rushed at by some undead horror...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dallas, Texas.

Willem de Jäeger, Dutch mercenary and survivor, was in the final stages of finishing up a raid on another survivor's small settlement. Willem and his men had the hapless cretins surrounded and severely outgunned, even if there were more settlers than mercenaries, their weapons would see to it that none of them remained after. "Geef je over!"He shouted at them in Dutch, telling them to surrender. It was a fruitless effort, but it stranger things had worked before.

The reply was the sound of several pistols discharging in his general direction, though thankfully his cover held out just fine against the pathetic handgun shots. "Damn them!" Willem shouted in response to the gunfire, though he silently signalled his men to target the firing settlers.

A deafening peal of assault rifle fire ensured, mixed with the screams of survivors being hit with the flying projectiles. Willem had no idea how many were hit, but either way his men had done some fine shooting. Taking his chance, Willem popped out of cover and discharged several shots towards a small group of men that were rushing over to help their wounded fellow, he managed to hit two of them, but three more remained.

"This is damn well hopeless!" One of the survivors shouted as he watched two of his friends be gunned down before him. "We are screwed! Just let them take the supplies damn it!" His words were nigh on sobs as he looked out over their deceased fellows. "Just give in!"
The leader of the settlers took heed of the, now sobbing, man's words. They would do well to not lose all of their comrades in a single fight. "You are right..." He lowered his firearm before shouting out towards the men assailing them. "We surrender! Don't shoot!" To show his intent, he stood up with arms raised and threw his pistol onto the ground before the mercenaries. His men followed suite.

"Watch them." Willem said to his own men, as he peered out from his cover and looked to the settler leader. "Good, your wise surrender means that not all your people will die...you have sense. However limited it is." Keeping his rifle trained on the leader's head as he exited cover, Willem signalled for a few of his men to follow him in the same manner.

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PostPosted: Tue Apr 07, 2015 11:30 pm 

World building for RPs that always seem to die

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San Francisco, California

Alcatraz Island changed a lot over the course of 8 months, well the soldiers and civilians set up there community. The most noticeable change was the massive wall of sunken ships that surround the Island forcing any incoming force to going through a choke point directly to the island dock. The other major change being the weapon emplacements that Captain Monroe had established from the weapons within nearby military armories and bases. What was once an abandoned prison was now a post apocalyptic fortress that sat imposingly within the San Francisco bay. Within the fortress, in a large industrial building on the edge of the island away from the rest, classical music could be heard playing throughout the building.

Dr. Krieger fiddled with the camera he had fixed up to use for his experiments with the virus as faint screams of pain could be heard in the next room. He turned to yell toward the door, "Would you please shut up I am trying to work," he turned back to the camera and pressed the on button before he continued, "Krieger's log #146 my experiments have been going as to be expected as I inch ever closer to beginning the modifications to make the infected more controllable and useful. Our current subject Pvt. James Donawitts is entering the final stages of infection and all of the monitoring equipment is in place to observe the brain's change in the final change. Captain Monroe continues his questioning of my experiments not understanding the need for a 'cure' as I tell him I am making. Dr. Buron has been invaluable in her assisting me in my research. My subject seems intent on his screaming so I must attend to that. End log." After turning off the camera he stood and heading toward the room with Pvt. Donawitts.

Captain Monroe walked down the hall of the administration block heading toward the warden's house which he claimed as his own during the early days of the community. As he walk a Pvt. ran up to John seeming to be out of breathe, "Sir the radio operators have found 2 separate broadcasts. One they think came from somewhere near Sacramento and the other they are still determining the location of the Broadcast," The soldier stood at attention as he reported to the captain. Monroe saluted back before moving toward the radio room to respond to the broadcasts, the soldier following the unspoken order began to head toward the barracks to put the scouts on high alert.

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Last edited by Blackmarket Salesman on Mon Apr 20, 2015 9:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Wed Apr 08, 2015 12:57 am 

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San Francisco, CA

Angel watched the people before her, a wide grin on her face. They were all crammed into the gift shop. Or what has once been the gift shop. They had long ago moved everything from it, keeping what was useful and trashing what wasn't. It was long hard work and Angel had chipped a nail or two. Which worked for her as it gave her a reason to tear off the fake nails she had glued on a week before the outbreak. Natural was a much better look on her. It fit her priestess appearance. The room was dim and smoke from the various candles they had lit floated throughout the room. The flames lent her an other worldly glow as it reflected off her sweat. Her dress fit in all the right places and moved when she did as she praised the great Dr. Kreiger.

Or as she appeared to praise the great doctor. What the 20 odd people didn't know was that she didn't actually believe the good doctor was gonna save them all. Or even the fact that he was good. His body language just screamed something was up but she didn't know much more past that. As she brought the ceremony to a close, she stood still as she felt the gaze of the people upon her. This is what she lived for. The attention of the people. The spotlight. Center stage. The only reason she had even became head of this whacked out occult to the German scientist.

It wasn't long before the people started to pour out. They were going about their various tasks for the day. Farming. Making sure the solar panels were okay. Shoring up the sea wall. Just another day in this fortress against the hell that had happened just outside their doorstep. As the last person left, she moved towards the back room and grabbing a towel, wiped off the sweat. Dumping it in the hamper to be picked up later, she went back out. Blowing the candles on her way, she took a step outside and lifted her face towards the sun. It shone warmly on her face as a small curved her lips.

"Let's just go see what the good captain is up too. I could use a diversion." Moving along the path, she headed towards his house. Either he would be there or someone would know where she could find him. Either way, she would get her man.


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