( 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

clint barton | marvel 616 | ota!

[conversed]

A | COMPOUND

[ Waking up to a bunch of pained groaning isn't new, sadly. Waking up in a strange room, also not new. Clint doesn't jump awake; he just lets out a tired groan of his own and drags a hand over his face, and it isn't until something else interrupts — a warm tongue?? — that he really snaps to it. ]

Hey. Hey—

[ Lucky. The dog lets out a small whine as he gently bats him away, then Clint finally sits up and takes in the details. Clothes on. Chinese food… moldy. No weapons. He drags himself to his feet and wanders over to the door, still a little bleary, and as soon as he opens it Lucky bolts out and down the hall. ]

Hey!

[ The dog — some kind of lab mix, missing an eye — doesn't stop, though he does nearly bowl into whoever happens to be a few yards down the corridor. ]

B | COMPUTERS, KITCHENS, SHOOTING RANGE

[ He can't find Lucky. Obviously. Clint eventually doubles back to his room to finish snooping around, and when he heads out to explore the rest of the compound, he's got a folder unceremoniously crumpled up and jammed into one of his back pockets.

He wastes some time in front of the rows of computer screens without successfully guessing the password (not admin or password or 42, go figure). Finds the kitchens and starts digging around in the cupboards like he owns the place, looking for something specific.

By the time he gets outside, it's midday. Stops mid-step when he spots the shooting range, and a few minutes later he's got a bow and some arrows. Draws to test it out, aiming at a worn target. Back muscles tighten and lock, slow your breathing, exhale—

Someone's close. He relaxes his hand and the arrow lodges itself in the target, then he lowers the bow before glancing over. ]

Sorry. Did you say something?

A

[prepper]

[ it's a good thing pepper likes dogs. smaller ones, usually, in fairness, but a dog's a dog, and this one's got no bad intentions, it seems, even when it almost mows her over. she makes a slight noise of surprise, a slightly staccato woah, but aside from that, stays upright and manages to stop the dog from going much further. probably not the time to be thinking it's a good thing i'm not wearing a cream skirt anymore, as she pats him lightly on the head. usually she'd ask for permission to do so, with a stranger's dog, but she thinks she can get a pass this time, what with the good natured almost knocking over and what have you. ]

Hey, now, I don't think you're headed where you're supposed to.

[ she angles a smile up at the man who opened the door, showing that she is unruffled by the interception. she didn't think anyone would have any dogs with them here, but you know. not the strangest thing about this place, yet. ]

Is he yours?

[conversed]

No. [ A beat. ] Yes?

[ He gave him a new (better) name, right. Except now that he's waking up, the last thing he seems to remember is Lucky charging out the door. A different door, ditching him for Katie. Clint scrubs a hand through his untidy hair while he gives Lucky a narrow look, almost like he's suspicious. ]

Yeah. Lucky. Guess he likes you.

[ BeTTER THAN ME. Except he doesn't say that part. And then, because everything from her clothes to her good manners say business— ] Do you work here?

[prepper]

[ she arches her brows. that's definitely not the surest sounding "yes" she's ever heard, but she'll take it, for now. she can play impromptu animal services later. if she needs to. at least the man seems to know his name, so that counts for something. or he made it up, who knows, what does it matter? it's just a dog. still, it's the little things that sometimes make things better, like petting a canine ladies man friendly dog. ]

Hi there, Lucky. [ she likes him too, what can she say. an apologetic look crosses her face, though, and she shakes her face. ] I don't, no, though I can't say I think working here would actually make anything seem clearer.

[alonetogether]

I said, you're really good at that.

[Ellie has her own bow now, not hers, but one she can manage to bend and string. It took her a few tries to find one.]

[conversed]

Oh.

[ Said a little bit in the tone of 'thanks', but he isn't graceful enough to actually say it outright. Clint takes a look at the bow she's got in hand, thinks for a moment, then bypasses the bow and arrow talk — for a second, at least. ]

Did you just wake up?

[ She's young. A kid, way younger than Kate. If the idea troubles him, there isn't an obvious tell; he just sounds curios, not concerned. ]

[alonetogether]

No, I just gave up trying to leave for now. [She shrugs. Then glares at him.] What, you gonna take the bow in case I poke my eye out with an arrow?

b + wrong kate

[forgive]

[ It's strange, these people wandering around, all looking for something — picking everything apart and taking what they can. Kate's still looking for a gun, but she's not sure she wants to find one; she knows what it'll mean once she does. God, when will this nightmare end? For now, it's just her and a small knapsack full of items she grabbed from the kitchen. (Oh, and a crowbar.)

During her exploration of the compound, she can't help but stop when she passes by a room full of computers. It's not on her priority list right now, but she thinks back to the card in her back pocket. Someone already looks busy typing away, so she's quiet in her approach, just observing with a curiosity for a few moments.

She stands behind him, a little off to the side until she finally has to ask: ] Do any of them work?

katie-kate (8

[conversed]

[ He startles slightly — stupid, wake up in a weird compound, should be paying more attention — but doesn't look too surprised when he looks over his shoulder. A kid? Younger than Kate. Probably?? He's bad at judging ages.

His gaze drifts to the crowbar, and he considers it for a beat before answering. ]

Not really.

[ Depends on your definition of 'work'. They're all on, but they're all locked. Clint half-heartedly types in 'crowbar' and hits enter, ignoring the access denied ping as he straightens up, turning to face her. ]

Password protected.

:3

[forgive]

[ Feeling his eyes on the weapon in her hand, she keeps it loose in her grip, kind of tapping against her thigh. It doesn't exactly fit right in the bag she has — not that she feels too safe here. But he seems unconcerned enough, so she steps up to his side, setting it down on the table. ]

That figures. All of them? [ Kate steals a glance at some of the other computer screens and— Yep. The rest have that same password prompt. ]

Well, I found this. [ She reaches into her back pocket, handing the business card to him. All it has is an email: rsa@viper.org. ] I thought maybe I could look it up, but...

b > kitchens

[sigillum]

[There's something to be said for food, when coming from a pseudo post-apocalyptic world where the only things to eat are what's grown by hand or stolen.

Ollie isn't stupid enough to gorge herself on food, but she's found something amazing (it's chocolate, she find the chocolate) and is sitting on one of the counter tops eating little bites of it at a time.

When someone else comes in, she startles, jumping to her feet and signing:]

Who are you?

[She's still hoping that at least some people can sign.]

[conversed]

[ He only really spots her because she jumps to her feet the second he hits the doorway, and her startled response is enough to make him stop in his tracks. And then she's— signing? Why is she—

Oh, right. World doesn't revolve around him. There's a slight delay for his brain to catch up, then he ventures a tentative, somewhat rusty: ]

C-L-I-N-T.

[ Another pause, then he points to her. ]

[sigillum]

[Ollie's face lights up, and for a moment any paranoia is forgotten in the face of actually being able to communicate with someone.]

O-L-L-I-E. You can talk if you can, my ears aren't the problem.

A

[strongas]

[ Cindy's all Silked out, exploring the hallways. Her Silk-sense is a constant buzz in her head, but she does turn in time to see the dog running right at her. She crouches and lets it run to her, petting it fondly. ]

Good to know creepy murder place is an equal opportunity kidnapper, I guess.

[ She looks up at the guy down the hall leaning out of his door, asking, ] Is this your dog?

[conversed]

[ Clint drags a hand through his hair, completing the 'just got out of bed' look as he squints down the hallway. Kid — younger, anyway — and a... spider theme? Another one? ]

His name is Lucky.

[ Which answers the question with minimal commitment. It isn't a yes, anyway. ] Are you... ?

[ Equal opportunity kidnapper. Pay attention. Odds are she's just as lost as he is, given the commentary. ] Did you just wake up here?

[ Lucky, meanwhile, leans happily against her; given the chance, he'll land a slobbery kiss on her face. ]

[strongas]

Heyy, Lucky. [ She rubs his head, ducking away to avoid getting slobber all over her nice red handkerchief. ]

Yeah. One minute, I'm in New York, [ In the bunker, but he doesn't need to know that, ] next thing I know, I'm waking up here.

i'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

[raptorminor]

[Instinct is hard to kick, and really, the best way to teach a raptor is to work with the instinct instead of against it. So when she sees something small speed away, her instincts kick in, and she makes a scree that the hunt is on. It's like chasing pigs!

Thankfully for Lucky and for Clint both, these halls are not built for large chickenlizards running at full speed. Charlie already loses time by almost crashing out of whatever open room she'd been exploring, and the traction on these floors is also not the best ever, and even if she could get to top speed, if the dog makes any turns, she's going to have a hard time making them without a speed reduction. This is not the jungle. A jungle is easier to navigate!

...But yeah, Clint, your dog's being chased by a prehistoric emu. It's the first fun she's had here since...eating.]

HAHAHAHA

[conversed]

[ Lucky doesn't get very far. Clint's leaning out the doorway to yell after him, which is a fairly lazy response as far as 'dog running off in creepy asylum' responses go, but whatever. The thing is, the second he does, he catches a view of Lucky wheeling it back around the far corner of the hall and charging right back towards him. ]

Yeah, that's what I—

[ ... dinosaur. That's a dinosaur. He goes to reach for an arrow before he realizes he doesn't have a quiver or an arrow or a bow, for that matter, then just gestures for Lucky to hurry up; only for Lucky to charge right past and continue down the hallway. ]

Shit— [ Can a dog outrun a dinosaur?? Important questions. Instead of swinging the door shut and hiding, which would be the smart move, he turns back to the charging dinosaur and puts out his hands. Because dinosaurs are the new horses, apparently. ]

Whoa—

this tag is wonderful and you are wonderful

[raptorminor]

[Questions Clint has probably never had to ask in a practical fashion. Her focus is on the small running fleeing thing, but then a people gets in her way. But this people holds out his hands, and the pose strikes her as familiar. Charlie slows to a jog, then stops a few feet away. Close enough to pounce if she so wanted to, not close enough to reach out and bite.

She has not exactly shifted out of attack mode, still bent down, clawed fingers flexing, mouth open enough to show the sharp teeth. The coiled tension in her body, too, remains; this is no idle threat. But she does stop, tail gently swaying for balance. Watching.]

b + right kate

[alsohawkeye]

[ Lucky is much better at finding people he knows than either of the Hawkeyes are. Kate has been scouring the compound for hours without ever crossing paths with her counterpart when all of a sudden in trots a certain one-eyed dog, hot on her trail.

She's mad at first when he takes off, but he keeps stopping, looking back over his shoulder at her and whining until she's almost close enough to grab his collar, and then taking off again. She follows him back out to the shooting range, jogging along in his wake, jeans already coated with dog hair around the calves where his tail whaps her with every excited wag. ]

Clint!

[ Kate'd know that form anywhere even without the dog leading her right to him, and she picks up the pace all on her own this time, arrows thumping around in the quiver and backpack slapping against her spine, Lucky woofing proudly at having successfully organized this little reunion. ]

[conversed]

[ Back muscles tighten and lock, slow your breathing— ignore Kate while you're aiming—

Wait. Clint actually puts the arrows on hold for once, easing up on the bow and dropping his aim as he glances over and spots her. She looks... well, honestly he just saw her a few hours ago, and she was judging him and stealing his dog, so.

But still, creepy government compound. Perspective. ]

Katie. You okay?

[ Which is a little like babying, but give him a break. He saw a dinosaur earlier, seems worth asking. ]

b - almost as cute as kate tho

[lostsoldier]

I said you owe me twenty bucks.

[ -Comes a voice from the doorway, moving out into the open. Bucky looks - well, not actually shittier than the last time they saw each other, but only because the last time they saw each other was the day they found out all SHIELD's resources couldn't give Natasha her memories of him back. That had been a pretty shit day. He's apparently not cut his hair again since, and his arm is back to its old Soviet red, but, you know. Costume changes. Depression hair. They happen.

At least he looks happy to see a familiar face. ]

And if you don't remember that, I ought to get twenty bucks anyway for how many times I've had to explain alternate universes today.

[conversed]

[ Guess who also looks kind of shitty: the other Bucky he's 99% sure he ran into, but you know, details. All that means is that when Clint looks over, he gives the other man a long, narrow stare, like he's trying to decide how far he can throw him.

Looks rough, terrible hair, etc. But the familiarity's there in the voice and the jokes, and the mention of alternate universes is — well, it's like a damn godsend, actually. ]

James Buchanan Barnes, is that really you?

[ That's a joke. It sounds more like something a Southern belle would say in a 40's romance flick than a real question, actually, though that's not intentional. ]

[striking]

[ Katniss shakes her head: she didn't say anything. Now that she's worked out that she doesn't have to kill anyone (not unless they try and kill her) she's been ghosting around the complex until she was finally drawn to the sight of someone with an actual bow and arrows. But she hadn't wanted to interrupt him. ]

Is there another one of those?

[ She asks, gesturing to the bow and arrow, before turning to look and answer her own question. She finds a shorter bow, plucks the string consideringly, deciding if she needs to adjust the tension. ]

You're good.

[ She adds quietly, now that she's not looking at him, though she's keeping him in her peripheral. ]

[conversed]

[ Clint takes a second to study her — another kid, or young, anyway — but when she shakes her head, he seems fine with keeping up the practice. He slides another arrow out of the quiver at his hip, lines it up, draws.

I-s t-h-e-r-e— releases, splitting the last arrow down the middle. Not his bow, but good enough for a Robin Hood shot. By the time he lowers his aim again, she's already testing the string of her own. ]

Thanks. [ Offhand, easy. Maybe a little detached, like he's used to taking compliments out of habit without really processing them. He watches the way her hands work over the bow, notes the familiarity there. ] Are you?

[ That isn't meant to be rude. It isn't a challenge, either; just a curious, honest question. If anything, it sounds a little rhetorical. He'd guess the answer is yes just by the way she's handling the gear. ]