monstermasher: (Default)
JUMPSCARES MOD. ([personal profile] monstermasher) wrote in [community profile] jumpscares2015-07-09 11:52 am

( OPEN ) GAME START.

▶ WHO: Everyone.
▶ DATE: July 9th, 2015 (Day 1)
▶ WARNINGS: Blood, violence, general zombie horror.
▶ SUMMARY: You've met with a bad... however that line goes. Welcome to Earth.

GOOD MORNING!


Please try and ignore whatever it is that you just heard. It should only last for up to a minute... maybe.

It... it is morning, right?

There are no windows.

There's a light, but it's barely considered one. The compound runs on a solar generator, but that doesn't mean it has a lot of power. The light seems to be hanging from the ceiling, swinging precariously. That's when you might actually start to wake up, sit up, find the things that are familiar to you... and then some of the things that aren't. It'd be wise to explore the small room you're in before leaving through the steel door, but there's nobody around to tell you that.

Outside is a tightly knit compound, just as dark and metallic as the room. The hallway you're in houses dozens more doors identical to yours, and if you're unlucky there may be more people poking their heads out through them, just like you. There's a dull glowing sign that reads MEDICAL BAY but not all of you remember being hurt. Some of you may be just fine, apart from the memory of the sound you heard when waking up.

The Medical Bay is stocked with enough medicine to last a couple of months. There's almost everything that can be found in a hospital. Somebody was thinking ahead.

Outside of the Medical Bay are more doors, some are even locked—many aren't. There are living quarters, a food storage, a kitchen, some laboratories; even a room full of computers and nothing else, all with a screen asking for a password. There's only two doors out of the compound, a vehicle bay with what appear to be a few military jeeps and trucks, and the front doors. It's on the inside of the front doors that something is painted in bright red, flecked with what smell like blood:

DO NOT GO OUTSIDE WITHOUT A GUN AND WATER.
GUNSHOTS ATTRACT THEM.
HOLLOWS IS 1.3 MILES NORTH OF HERE.
GOOD LUCK.


And on the outside of the doors, if you choose to open them:

THE WORLD ENDED JULY 3RD, 2015.


Now... how long ago was that? And where is this place? Luckily for you, Hollows is a small town that can be raided. It hasn't been too long since the apocalypse—surely you'll be able to find something there. Batteries, food, weapons, maybe some people—and what you're guaranteed to find. Them, whatever that means.

Outside of the compound there's a fence with a single gate. Nothing can get past this unless you let them in for tea, so be careful. There's a shooting range and a large shed full of weapons and ammo, enough to last two months if you're careful. Guns, knives, anything that would be used by the military and police is hidden away in the shed. There are even a few hunting bows with arrows.

If you climb up the ladder to the top of the wall, there's enough room to walk along the top. There's definitely something moving in the distance, something you should definitely be worrying about. Maybe it's time to get a good look with a sniper rifle...?

Oh.

It's gone.

Maybe it was just a trick of the light. Regardless, it's impossible for everyone to stay in the compound forever. There are nefarious things at work! The choices are to go to Hollows, stick around, or go somewhere else. Really, the world is almost a blank slate. Maybe more of a used slate, but still yours to explore.

When the night comes, you should be hiding. The screamers, the ragers, whatever the hell they are, are running full tilt through the streets and across the landscape, running through anything in their way, ripping apart anything alive. If you don't make any noise, they won't notice you. Especially since they're stuck listening to each other. But if you get noticed by one, it won't be long until a horde forms... you might be able to outrun one for awhile, but they don't seem to let up on their breakneck pace. Maybe someone should have told you how to kill them.

OOC NOTES.


There will be zombies in Hollows. Whether you meet them on the way there is up to you. Apart from the undead and the animals (maybe somebody should let those poor creatures out of their houses) the town is completely deserted. In fact, the closest thing you can find to a human are the bodies of those who died without being bitten, and there's even few of those. You can find anything you'd find in a normal town here, and are free to loot and raid the houses and stores—the cops won't be coming, after all. The power is OFF apart from what you can find that is solar powered or still has a charge. If you're lucky and find another town while exploring the first few weeks, you might find an area that still has power—thank hydroelectricity.

Just keep in mind travel time... and travel expenses.

You have creative freedom over everything else. The world is open. The only stationary places are landmarks and cities—if you want to go to Texas and talk to the poor astronauts stranded up in space, it's there. (Might be a long trip, though...)

If your character can figure it out by geography before getting to Hollows, the compound is located a few hours from the west coast, in California.

The way to kill a zombie is blunt force to the head. The head doesn't need to be removed, but significant damage needs to be done to it. This does not include the throat—it needs to be a headshot.

There's also a glaring hint. The computers in the compound, asking for a password. It is impossible to hack at this time. There will be more on this later!

Finally, if your character is exploring outside of the compound (or extensively inside of it) there's a comment here for linking me the thread. You can also PM me! I'll be ducking in with what your character may or may not have found, via a response to the actual RP thread.

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS please direct them here!
shuckit: (Default)

idefk i'm sorry

[personal profile] shuckit 2015-07-10 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ the medical bay john comes marching into happens to be already occupied, namely by what looks like a scrawny teenager, hurried grabbing at medical supplies and anything that looks like it might end up useful (as a weapon or otherwise). also looking like he just went crawled out of hell, with dirt and grime on his clothes, dried blood on his hands, face and arms, and the blackened kind of carbon dust you get from explosions.

jumpy too, considering the second he hears heavy footfalls enter the room, he’s wiping around to face the stranger. ...who is a huge ass robot. thomas doesn’t have a lot of good history with animated mechanical things, so this is him hissing what probably sounds like FUCK but is actually SHUCK as he ducks down behind a lab table, and flips it on it’s side to have the heavy table top between himself and mr. roboto.

and this is also him frantically looking around at all the chemicals and tools nearby and trying to figure out what he can make out of it. bomb would be nice, but he’ll settle for molotov cocktail. so sorry, chief, he’s had kind of a bad time.

also, there is an entire cheesecake sitting on a cabinet somewhere. just... chillin. ]
embiggened: (one suspicious mofo)

[personal profile] embiggened 2015-07-10 03:35 am (UTC)(link)
No.

I made it myself. I'm one of those... homegrown heroes, you know. Helping the little people of New Jersey instead of all moving to Manhattan. [Okay, she wishes she lived in Manhattan but still.] We exist.

[She gives him a squint! Like he's being totally ridiculous with those questions.]

I'm Ms. Marvel.
shuckit: (pic#8710191)

[personal profile] shuckit 2015-07-10 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ she’s not alone in the ‘this isn’t my first creepy sci-fi rodeo’ boat. not only is thomas familiar with waking up in an entirely unfamiliar environment with no recollection of how he got there, but he’s also done ‘with no recollection of who he is’. still running on that one, but he at least has enough of an idea, now, to be satisfied with not wanting to know more.

That, however, does not make him any less freaked out by the sudden scenery change. this wasn’t supposed to happen. it was supposed to be somewhere safe, but how many times has WICKED fooled them with that by now? maybe someday he’ll stop falling for it. or maybe someday he’ll have an option that is anything other than ‘do what they say or die’.

However, as far as Thomas could tell upon first waking up, none of the other Immune that made it through the Flat Trans before him actually made it here. Not even Minho, who was right next to him. For all he can tell, as he comes to in a daze, he’s completely alone. At least, until another voice sounds out, on the other side of the wall. after taking a moment to look over the paper he woke up holding, and... grab the cheesecake... he makes it out into the hall, considering the question

hurt. uh, well, he’s covered in dirt and grime and carbon dust from explosions and drying blood - not sure how much of it is his and how much is... not his. ]


I’ll live. [ as he pushes at the door to her room, he’s sore, aching, and pretty sure there are some wounds somewhere on him, but nothing serious. thomas watches the girl carefully as he tries to place her. there were so many in that group they were trying to lead out. so many that didn’t make it, too. ] You one of the Immune?
withoutaworld: (you know I'll be flying blind)

[personal profile] withoutaworld 2015-07-10 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
"That depends on what's out there. Personally, I can think of a lot of things worse."

But she's curious too, about what's outside the gate. It's so quiet in here, and there's no sign to suggest why... and someone's going to have to go out sooner or later.

Still, the idea of Peggy doing it alone makes her stomach drop with dread. If she runs into something more than one non-powered human can handle... Rikki's already lost her family once, she's not willing to let it happen again, even if that family is so much younger than they should be and doesn't know her at all.

"There's, like, fifty people here. You can't just go out alone, that's stupid when you could have someone to watch your back." Oh god she just called her grandmother stupid. "...ma'am."
sunnuva: (far from home;)

junpei iori → persona 3 ← ota & will match format!

[personal profile] sunnuva 2015-07-10 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
( the nails on a chalkboard. what the hell –

oh. he's awake.

and he has been for a while.

long enough that he's found the things left for him – some picture of a blue chick that he has to admit is pretty smokin' fine, the baseball bat … though he has to stop to question why it's bent and bloody before picking it up and cringing at it. it's not one of his, that's for sure. he takes better care of his equipment than this, and are those bits of skin and hair stuck to it? erugh, he's pretty sure he hasn't seen something this disgusting since his last trip up tartarus, and even then.

shadows might be ugly, but at least they disintegrate into nothing when you swing at 'em.

he hasn't tried calling out for anyone yet, if only because it's pretty damn obvious that he's alone. wherever the hell he is.

poking around the medical bay once he's left the room has him finding all sorts of things that could be useful – even if most of it is in the form of medicines that he can't pronounce the names of. it's when he finds the scrawled text on the doors that he stops, that battered and bloody bat briefly being used to support his weight as he attempts to digest the words in front of him.

do not go outside without a gun and water.

the hell's that supposed to mean?

he doesn't have either on his person, but of course that means that he has to open the doors and go outside, and once he turns to watch the doors close behind him he catches sight of another block of text.

… the world ended, huh?

wait a second

a bloody baseball bat, items close by that have nothing to with anything he remembers … a medical bay chock full of supplies, just lying around for anyone and their mother to take?

that's right, ladies and gentlement.

this idiot right here is now convinced that he'd gone to sleep and has somehow woken up in a video game.
)

… Least they coulda done was give me a better weapon. The hell am I supposed to do with this? It's gonna break the first swing I take!

( … jesus christ. we know you're an idiot, junpei, but come on … ) Ah, well … I can't level up if I don't get crackin'!
shuckit: (pic#8651247)

WHY DO YOU PLAY ALL THE AWESOME PEOPLE, TONA???

[personal profile] shuckit 2015-07-10 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
[ thomas hadn’t heard her, before rounding the corner, and is given all of a couple seconds of warring over fight or flight before she’s whipping around, making demands. what sticks with him, though, is the last thing she says - i’ll know if you’re lying. there’s no apprehension coming from the teenager (in dirty clothes, covered in soot and drying blood), only narrowing eyes. ]

It’s a big building. [ said in the flattest tone that ever graced this earth, and, after a beat, followed up with a helpful observation. ] And it smells like klunk.

[ that being the glader word for ‘shit’, and while he knows the typical word that ought to be there, thomas hasn’t actually ever used it in all of what he can remember of his life (sums up to a handful of months). thomas is a glader, he’ll talk like a glader, everyone else can deal.

but it’s not a lie. if wanda goes digging in his mind to verify that, she’ll be hearing an incredibly loud chant of: GET OUT, GET OUT, GET THE HELL OUT.

so, he’s had some experience with telepathy, and with people mind controlling him. and he’s really, really, really not fond of it. ]
shuckit: (pic#8802587)

[personal profile] shuckit 2015-07-10 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ they have suspiciously covered in dried blood in common, it seems like. thomas also has dirt and black dust from explosions and collapsed cement added to the look, with cuts and bruises over his face and more dried blood on his hands. apparently, neither of them have had a good time.

however, it's something that has thomas pausing when he sees kate coming out of her room, instead of just bolting in the opposite direction. how sad is it, now, that he’s come to see injured or rough looking teenagers as allies as a kneejerk reaction? just that, though - kneejerk. the rest of it is all suspicion and wariness, as his hand tightens around the metal pipe he’s holding at his side, other hand tucked against the strap of the military pack he’d picked up. ]


Bad morning?

[ asked flatly, but a measure reserved as well, with body visibly tensed and looking ready to run if he needs to. ]
wipedclean: (tied up)

James Barnes, The Winter Solder | MCU

[personal profile] wipedclean 2015-07-10 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
[There's a camera. There's screaming. There's a bloody sheet.

How he got here, he has no idea. There's no sign of any HYDRA agents, but he's been on his own in the field before. After the mess that was Insight, after pulling... that man out of the river... well. It's understandable things are a little scattered in his mind.

More than they usually are, anyway.

He checks inventory. Two handguns, four knives, full suit of tactical gear... nothing else. He stashes the camera in one of his pockets just in case it comes in handy later and heads out.

There's other people here. He keeps out of sight as much as possible, keeping to the sides of buildings and other cover. He finds his way to the armory and starts to load up, picks up as much ammo for his guns as he can carry, selects a sniper rifle and climbs the wall to find vantage point.

Good news is, he's got a good sight of most everything in the compound and out of it. Bad news is, there's not a lot of cover. So the question is, which is more important?

For now, he opts for the vantage point. So yes. If you look up to the wall, on one corner you'll see a figure all in black with a shiny metal arm watching everything, mentally mapping the compound from the wall.]
usavatar: (pic#5903139)

[personal profile] usavatar 2015-07-10 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
"A lab." It reminds him of Zola's wing in the factory, of another Hydra base he and the Commandos have taken since then. It makes his skin crawl, even though he came from a place that's like this in everything but design. Erskine was a good man. He can't speak for the people who brought them here. "One that needs its subjects controlled."
usavatar: (pic#5903148)

[personal profile] usavatar 2015-07-10 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
Infatuation quickly loses ground to simple, human concern. It's very clearly not nothing. It's very clearly a big something. If answering her questions will help, he'll do it, but he's not sure where it ties in.

"Well. You tried to shoot me." He smiles at her a little, hoping she takes it as a joke, then goes on more seriously. "We did a couple of recon missions near one of the sites on our map. The Commandos and I got back from a strike mission day before yesterday. We blew Schmidt's second factory to hell. Right before I woke up... no, while i was waking up... There was someone screaming. Something. But before that I was with our people, and with you."

He gives her hand a small squeeze.
Edited 2015-07-10 03:52 (UTC)
banjos: (pic#7267685)

pfc dick simmons ; rvb ; ota & will match format!

[personal profile] banjos 2015-07-10 03:54 am (UTC)(link)
( ooc; let's also pretend that i have armor icons, because that's totally what he's in rn. )

( he's ignoring everything.

if you were expecting some in-depth introspection to come from this, you were horribly mistaken.

it's not that simmons doesn't have the brain cells to make such deep thought possible – it's just that he's already been through so much absolute bullshit that the end of the world is barely a blip on his radar. ( … okay, so he doesn't have fancy motion trackers in his armor, but if he did, this shit wouldn't be showing up on it!! )

he's woken up, he's found the tablet with no battery, the paints and art supplies that he promptly leaves on his bed upon leaving the room he'd woken up in. he's muttering to himself all the while, something about how somebody's fucked up again and whose fault is it this time!? – strings of curses littering the empty airspace around him as he trudges through the medical bay, looking for anything and anyone that might end up looking familiar.

that voice he'd heard, it must have been somebody in their base. or something. right? or … maybe not, since he hasn't heard it again, and it hadn't sounded all that important, anyway.
)

Oh, come on … if somebody's gonna play a prank, they could have at least made it believable.

( yeah. he's still in denial. it ain't just a river in egypt.

and he completely misses the writing on the outside of the doors as he makes his way outside the compound. anybody want to come find him and clue him in? so he can properly freak the fuck out about the world ending and all that shit?
)
jockeybitch: (pic#9312704)

oh my god.

[personal profile] jockeybitch 2015-07-10 03:56 am (UTC)(link)
... Huh?

( he didn't say anything about roaches! )

Nah, man, Coach. Big guy, wearin' a purple an' yellow jersey.

( also black. but! ain't sayin' nothin' about that rn. )

Seen him?
gayson: (pic#9317331)

[personal profile] gayson 2015-07-10 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
God, but she's rather lovely, isn't she? Grayson has been running around the facility packing supplies into his given first aid kit, trying to decide what's real and fictional between his recollection of the immediate past and the more sane one beyond that.

Seeing this woman in a period tier dress, it's not really helping him.

Grayson is wearing a nice pair of trousers, black shirt, and an ornate shirt-jacket that calls to something Indonesian. Both of those tops are caked in old blood, but there's no visible wound on him.

"Hello? Hi... Are you thinking of heading out?"
bonking: (pic#8024639)

it begins

[personal profile] bonking 2015-07-10 04:02 am (UTC)(link)
Purple and yellow?

[ He's not the fashion police, but Jesus. ]

You're the first guy I've seen so far.

[ Looking over this man, he's neither RED nor BLU. Hm. ]

I'm Scout. Who the fuck're you? You know what the hell's going on?
untodawn: (pic#9322420)

tom why u do this

[personal profile] untodawn 2015-07-10 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ John could marvel at the lack of situational awareness civilians had until his vision tunnelled so far into his astonishment at how undisciplined people were out of his small and shrinking circle that it could carve out a rupture in slipspace. Much as he could almost admire people unaffiliated with the UNSC from afar, now almost missing when people were happy to see him - it was a real kicker every time they up and did something profoundly stupid.

The table was a new one.

Right now all he could think of was what that kid could do with a batch of chemicals mixed in a cocktail set loose on the medical bay. His only concerns were for the medical supplies John already convinced himself would be critical to anyone in the compound. A molotov would be little more than someone splashing their drink in his face.

Comparing his mindset to a lightswitch implied there was an 'off' setting, but he did instantly shift into a more tactical approach to this one. John took a step back then took one massive stride forward, barreling into the medical bay. He covers the distance faster than you could blink, and in an instant he hikes one leg up and brings it crashing down over the table. Metal buckles under the boot of his MJOLNIR armor until the flimsy aluminum concaves then shatters apart in two with nothing separating John, and this kid.

Assault rifle held still in side carry position, John wasn't looking to gun down one of the first people he came across in the compound. Only neither was he willing to let the medical bay get pilfered or blown up. Instead of holding the kid in his crosshairs, he grabs him by the shirt.

And shakes his head once for no - cease and desist acting like a twitchy idiot. Immediately, if at all possible.
]
Edited 2015-07-10 04:06 (UTC)
bonking: (pic#8024604)

[personal profile] bonking 2015-07-10 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
[ Scout sees it in the halls, and immediately backs into a doorway, his mind spinning for a moment. Star blocks butting into square holes. Elevator music, considering and reconsidering. Pyro nearly gets to him before Scout steps out, all bravado and spurred to act. ]

Yo, Pyro...! That you, bruddah? I been lookin' all over!

...

'ey, you know what the hell's going on? I ain't heard nothin' on the speakers and Miss Pauling ain't nowhere to be seen. Did I sleep through the transport to a new place?

[ It's a little easy for Scout to admit some confusion to Pyro, even if he's a little unnerved by it. It's not like it can tell anyone anything about him, right?

Really right now, in an unfamiliar place, he might be a tiny bit desperate for something familiar. ]
scorpiowned: (pic#1762989)

WAKE UP also feel free to continue bracketing i am just a turd with a crush on prose

[personal profile] scorpiowned 2015-07-10 04:20 am (UTC)(link)
Even someone in bulky, intimidating full body armor would get a wary look and a cautious nod?

Because that's what Grayson gets immediately upon rounding a corner- a face full of high-tech space armor that would probably be much, much scarier if it wasn't orange. The suited stranger jolts back in surprise, as if Grayson were the threatening one here, and looks around the otherwise empty hallway as he takes a step backwards. He doesn't seem dangerous, at least- aside from a set of bloody keys clutched in his hand and the rifle on his back, that is, and he sounds even less so when he speaks. "Were, uh. Were you the one crying?" The voice is filtered clearly through the helmet, easily identifiable as male. Generic American. Informal. Confused.

Join the club, right?
oracleofgotham: (pic#8496506)

[personal profile] oracleofgotham 2015-07-10 04:25 am (UTC)(link)
"You're getting that feeling too, huh?" Her tone's light, but there's a sharp edge underneath it, anger kept tightly controlled. Whoever brought them here is going to regret it by the time she's done with them.

She spots a corded phone on the wall, and moves over to pick it up and hold it to her ear. There's no dial tone, nothing, and she hangs it up with a disgusted noise. "Phones are down. That's comforting."
debts: (it brings out the monster in me.)

[personal profile] debts 2015-07-10 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
Natasha.

[ Yeah, it's okay. She looks at him sidelong and holds his eyes during one of those fleeting glances, like she knows what he's doing. There's some sort of amusement there in the cut of her mouth.

Good thing she doesn't know what happens without said medicine.
]

Any idea how soon is soon? [ Maybe it's like an insulin thing. ]
debts: (the past﹐ i've learned﹐ about)

[personal profile] debts 2015-07-10 04:32 am (UTC)(link)
Leverage.

[ Literally. It's not a joke but there's the slight inflection of it. She readjusts the strap of the medical bag over her torso rather than just hanging off her shoulder, then puts one hand on the nearest rung. Pauses.

Then steps aside, eyebrow cocked.
]

Ladies first.
crotchpunch: (We cut without a knife)

[personal profile] crotchpunch 2015-07-10 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Now that's the first lick of sense she's heard all day. This coming from a forth wall aware video game character, but what are you going to do?

Regardless, she's amused if nothing else. And as funny as it'd be to let this guy go outside the gate and get his ass eaten by zombies, she's feeling generous. If only because comedy might be a resource that's difficult to come by in the apocalypse and she doesn't feel like looking around for another.]


Hold on.

[She speaks at first without even looking at him, body leaning up against the wall of the compound.]

Aren't you forgetting something? You never take the first weapon out to the first stage. There's always a better one if you look hard enough.
debts: (tell me: how does it feel﹐)

8[

[personal profile] debts 2015-07-10 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
Percussive Maintenance?

[ Sounds so fancy when it's phrased that way. Her eyebrows lift in part-amusement and part-dryness. The computer beeps again and Natasha's expression quickly shutters into something a little more irritated.

She's pretty used to being smart.
]

Not long. A few hours. [ Then, in a way that's obviously not quite about how long he's been up here: ] Just get out of bed?
usavatar: (pic#5902824)

[personal profile] usavatar 2015-07-10 04:39 am (UTC)(link)
"Just a little."

He's staring at the phone. It looks like something Howard would design, all the numbers lined up in tidy rows, each one a single button. He yanks his focus away from it and back to the woman.

"I'm Steve, by the way."
debts: (Default)

[personal profile] debts 2015-07-10 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
[ Sooner or later, he'll see someone familiar in the crosshairs. Natasha Romanoff in a different suit than he's used to, but undoubtedly on the job: a medical bag slung over her shoulder, one and clutching the pistol. The bag looks heavy. Her shoulders are tight.

Still, it's on purpose, or— just really, really good luck. She turns to look right at his line of sight. It's not clear whether it's the glint of light off the arm or just that familiar feeling of being watched, but she tips her chin just a fraction before disappearing from view.

Moments later, she's up on the wall with him. Pointedly, she puts her glock back in the holster at her thigh but otherwise doesn't move. Her eyes clock between his arm, the rounded fist of it, and that sniper rifle.
]

Hi.

[ That's it. ]
gayson: (pic#9317331)

it's cool I can roll

[personal profile] gayson 2015-07-10 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
Yes and no.

Grayson visibly flinches back at the sight of the armored individual. He's too bright and, well, too well-armored to be British special forces. Grayson's a scraggly, tall brown man in comparison, so much bone and flesh. He's still not sure he didn't dream the zombie apocalypse of Britain, but he's still scared, and hoping that someone in armor couldn't have gotten bitten.

It helps they can speak, and English at that, if with a filtered sort of accent through the helmet.

"I... I don't think so."

He's a London clip accent. His shirt is drenched in dry blood, though, the sort that doesn't seem to be his own.

"Who're you? Why're you... What's all this for, then?" Gesturing to the suit, perhaps a little more flourish than necessary. If Grayson were less scared he'd think he looked like a macaroni crayola.
Edited 2015-07-10 04:43 (UTC)