( OPEN ) GAME START.

[monstermasher]

▶ 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!

Comments

fliss cousland ( dragon age — ota, prose or brackets fine! )

[rondels]

— in the compound

[ it's not the best sound to wake up to. the murmur of a voice that puts exactly into words the things she thinks about whenever she has a spare moment, the thoughts that creep in unwelcome through the back door of her mind. why does anyone keep trying? why does she? the world was so full of awful things before the darkspawn, maybe it's time to give it up and let everything crumble the way it should, the way it deserves to.

her parents would be so disappointed if they knew she thought like that, sometimes. she can imagine her father's expression too clearly. from time to time it is very difficult to say that there's anything other than their memory that keeps her going.

a familiar, smooth tongue is licking at her hand when she wakes. oskar whines, plaintively, before rumbling happily when he sees her eyes flicker open. she instinctively shushes his cheerful, enthused barking, petting him between the ears as she blearily gathers her bearings. this... is not the camp. for one thing, she is on what seems to be an actual bed, as strangely constructed as it is, and not her sleeping mat, and around her is very definitely a room rather than a tent. one full of people and trinkets of all sorts with which she is note even remotely familiar. she shifts to sit, and something presses into her leg, beneath the bed sheets — a key? not like any key she's ever seen, but recognisable enough. what it belongs to, she doesn't know.

she doesn't linger in the room for too long, quietly calling oskar to follow her as slips out, away from all these strangers, only to find more in the corridors. she is pleased enough to find that she still has some of her belongings, her clothing, and of course oskar, along with this odd little vial of what is supposedly poison. something else she's familiar with, at the very least. she pockets it, operating on the very sharp sensation that she's going to need it, at some point or other.

everyone here is dressed so strangely, so differently. everywhere fliss turns, she finds more rooms, more corridors, and navigating is proving difficult. everything looks the same. to passing individuals, her expression may seem a little blank, but bordering on terrified. running on fumes, on the idea that movement is somehow survival. she keeps pinching her wrist, every so often, trying to rouse herself from this uncomfortable dream that is proving itself to be far too real.

eventually, she finds herself fingering the key and inspecting it at greater length, wondering what it could possibly belong to. she stops in front of an unmarked door, looking between it and the key in her hands several times, wondering whether to try and find out where the silly little thing belongs to. nothing else remotely productive or useful seems to be on the agenda right now, in any case. ]

— by the weapons shed

[ the absence of her knives had unnerved fliss somewhat, particularly when she had found the sign. she doesn't know what guns are, but supposes that gunshots are related to them. and what exactly are they? her explorations of this area have no yet yielded that much information, aside from the general sense that something bad is happening. the walls here are very much made to keep things out, it seems.

the weapons shed, however, is a comforting find, even if fliss finds herself awkwardly hovering outside it for a long moment, glancing around and wondering if anyone would object to her entering. at long last, when the coast seems relatively clear, she hazards a little push of the door, which opens without complaint or difficulty. though she does not directly recognise much of what she finds inside — scarily well stocked, by her personal evaluation — as soon as she spots the distinctly knife shaped weapons that could substitute for her daggers, she feels a faint swelling of warmth. when did she get this way, she wonders? relieved by the sight of weapons rather than cowed by them, exasperated at having to use them once again. biting her lip, she resists the urge to investigate up close, and darts back out of the shed to hail down the first person she sees. ]

Excuse me — sorry to trouble you, but is it known whether we can take items from this shed? [ a little timid, to begin with, but growing a little bolder as she goes on. ] I don't wish to seem as though I'm trying to steal anything, but the contents would likely be useful.

[ ... she's going to take something, even if someone tells her no. that much isn't quite audible in her tone, but damn it, she's not going to wander around this strange place empty handed. oskar, meanwhile, sits like a sentry outside the shed, relatively quiet. subject to change if anyone challenges his mistress, though. ]

weapons!!

[intelligently]

( Lydia had lingered at the weapons shed after Beth had left, eyes moving over everything. She knew that Allison's father had been a weapons dealer as well as a hunter, and even though she hadn't seen much she guessed that that meant they'd had a lot of weapons. Enough to hunt with.

Seeing everything in the shed was different, and with the unease she already felt from being in an unusual place - from seeing the warning sign, seeing what was in the shed didn't make her feel any better. There was so much - guns, knives and boxes labelled with ammunition. Enough for someone to easily get hurt.

It took a few seconds for Lydia to turn after the question was asked, words slow, uncertain )

I don't know. ( The contents would likely be useful. Useful for what? What was this place? What were they expected to do ) Someone's already taken some.

( If they were supposed to have a weapon- it was well out of Lydia's comfort zone, and skill set. She'd never used one before, even if she was well versed in archery technique )

[rondels]

[ well, at least no one's saying an outright "no", so far. the young woman's uncertainty relaxes fliss, oddly enough, instantly creating a sense of kinship in the vein of both not really knowing what to do or how to proceed. ]

I had considered they'd been taken by someone with authority or rights to them, [ she begins, carefully, ] Though it seems that no such specific individuals are present here.

[ again, fliss' gaze flickers over what looks like a durable, well-kept pair of daggers lain across a table filled with all manner of sharp objects. none of them are made in a style or fashion recognisable to her, but they look as though they would serve the necessary purposes well enough. she moves in that direction, hoping that her interest in them does not make her appear as a threat; she can't help the wistful note that enters her tone as she inspects the daggers more closely, picking one up to investigate the weight and balance of it in her palm. ]

I would feel safer in an unknown place such as this with something at my side.

[intelligently]

( Lydia watched as Fliss moved towards the daggers, silently studying her as Fliss turns the weapons over. Even though this was a woman clearly familiar with using weapons - and probably daggers - Lydia didn't feel threatened. At least not then. The woman had spoken softly, hadn't done or said anything threatening. That and Lydia's almost sixth sense didn't tell her she needed to get out of there )

I don't think that anyone will stop you if you take them.

( Lydia wouldn't, and there weren't that many people around them at the shed. Well, there also wasn't anyone around there that looked like they knew what was going on )

I don't think there's anyone here to stop us.

( What happened to everyone? )

[rondels]

[ not even those who know what fliss is tend to be concerned by her presence until she's managed to get a knife to their throat. not so much through being a woman as it is her generally quiet, reserved demeanour. she does not carry the attitude of a fighter, but she supposes that can be used as a strength in some capacity. being an underestimated enemy has been her friendly in battle more often than not, irritating as it may be to experience before you've shown that you can more than hold your own. ]

No, I don't believe there is.

[ her tone drifts, sounding distant for a moment before she looks up to the girl again, smiling faintly. ]

Fliss. [ gesturing at the various sharp and dangerous objects, ] Is there anything here with which you're familiar, or that you'd like to take?

[ can't hurt to be polite and let someone else have a good rummage around. it's as much of a courtesy as it is a way for fliss to gauge what people here are like towards arms. it's hardly taken that everyone in ferelden would be trained with weapons, of course, but fliss has been surprised before. ]

[intelligently]

( Lydia almost misses the name amid the talk of weapons, the quick change back from the short introduction to the topic )

Lydia.

( Her eyes fall from the woman back to the rows of guns and knives in front of them. Is there anything there that she'd like? If the situation didn't feel so grim Lydia would laugh. Weapons? Her? )

I don't- I've never used one.

( She's never fought, that had always been Scott or Allison. She'd been in the background figuring out the problem, or being in danger )

[rondels]

I see.

[ it's not as though everyone in ferelden is going to be wonderfully proficient with weapons, but fliss has already had various cause to wonder how well prepared or not (through no fault of their own) people are for potential (inevitable?) danger. there's a thoughtful pause again where she looks from lydia to the weapons and then back to lydia again, before venturing, ]

Perhaps — I would recommend to take something small, as a precaution. I can't say I have any idea of what awaits anyone here, but it seems as though it might be worth considering all the same.

[intelligently]

( While Lydia doesn't immediately move to take anything that action will depend on what Fliss next says. She wants Lydia to consider a weapon - that must mean she believes the writing, right? )

Do you think we're in danger? Like the sign said.

weapons shed

[shuckit]

[ thomas is actually on his way back to the shed, having taken a looting trip into it earlier in the day already. what he'd grabbed was mostly basic things - machete, knive, grenades, things he could throw. he'd stared at the guns for a long moment, before deciding he'd pass for now. they don't hold great memories, and he doesn't like being behind them. the launchers back home were different - nonfatal, for the most part - and even then, maybe, he'd be fine. but since newt - since having to put his best friend down as a mercy? it's not easy holding one.

but there isn't a lot of choice, as things are, and he'd be stupid not to keep one on him, if he'd heading outside the compound. which he will be. there's a woman just coming out of the shed when he makes his way towards it, asking him if she's allowed to do what he already did earlier today. she gets a shrug in response, as he makes his way in and past her. ]

No one here to stop us.

[ spoken blankly, as he heads straight for the wall lined with guns, looking them over. he blinks for a moment, swallows, and grabs a pistol with a holster. he doesn't really look up from strapping it on as he continues speaking to her. ]

And you'd be one dumb shank to head out there without one.

[rondels]

[ she side steps the young man as he goes into the shed, faintly surprised by how unconcerned he is by this. in fairness, he likely has the right attitude; fliss is too used to acting either by what is expected of her a warden, or by the sense of propriety that her family and upbringing instilled in her. as legitimate as her concern for stealing something might have once been — amusing, considering what an adept pickpocket she is — this is not the time and place for it. he's right. there is a distinct absence of people who know what is taking place here, what to do other than prepare oneself as best you can. ]

That much appears to be true, certainly.

[ her manner shifts, slightly, upon the use of the words "one dumb shank". she doesn't know what a shank is, but considering that it is coupled with dumb, she doesn't like it either. not that she believes him to be insulting her, as such, simply stating what he believes to be fact, but she's been underestimated enough in her life for it to bristle somewhat beneath her skin. there is one dagger already sheathed on her right, and she briskly takes up a second to complete the pair.

with something slightly indignant note creeping into her voice, ]

I never intended to! [ soothing a little again, curiosity taking over annoyance, she nods at the pistol. ] What is that, exactly? A gun?

[shuckit]

[ in all actuality, 'shank' only means 'person', more like 'dude'. 'shuck' would be the one to be concerned about, if it's insult you're worried about, but as rough as thomas is at times, he doesn't usually insult people unless they deserve it. usually.

sliding the pistol into the holster, thomas shifts some, feeling awkward wearing it, but turns his head up to look at what else lines the walls. need more than one. the woman asks a question, though, and his attention diverts for a moment, glancing over her. ]

Yeah... it's a gun. Does more damage than a knife or bow and arrow, faster. [ he remembers the glade, back when guns weren't a concern. not that they were ever new to him - he always had the memory of what they were.

reaching up, he grabs an assault rifle as well. ] If you don't know what they are, you probably shouldn't try using one.

[rondels]

[ in the end, it's all greek to fliss. or not even that, since she does not know what greek is any more than she is familiar with the word "shank". there's plenty of time to learn, in any case. ]

I think I can agree with that, [ she murmurs, more level than before, a hand comfortable resting at her waist, near to her daggers. the weight of them is different to what she had before, but still more comfortable than being without anything at all. it's like being over-exposed, naked while fully clothed. when did she become that person? it seems like it can't have been that long ago she was trying to shirk practice with her instructor in favour of reading just one more chapter, of one more book. she hasn't read a book in so long. ] They look... unnerving.

[ nodding, however, at the assault rifle he picks up, she asks, ] You're familiar with them, though? How is it that they work? There is no arrow, no sharp tip.

[shuckit]

[ they are unnerving. he's unnerved by them, and that's fairly evident in how he pauses, swallows, and glances back down to the rifle in his hands. he doesn't like how that looks. ]

They fire these. [ he reaches over to another bin, pulling a magazine free and pops out one of the bullets, holding it up. he doesn't imagine it'd look less menacing that an arrow if you didn't know what it could do. ]

The gun fires it with a shuck-ton more force than a bow ever could - it goes faster, farther. It's cleaner than an arrow but still hurts like hell.