jumpscares | ( OPEN ) GAME START.

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( 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!

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[ So, it's the end of the world and the dinosaurs weren't the ones who brought it about. The world ended on July 3, 2015, with whimpers, groans, and way too much death, and Owen Grady is the unfortunate witness to a good chunk of it. There are gaps in his memory, because he definitely doesn't remember being here, and his disorientation makes him wary.

There is no enemy out there, not when civilisation itself is plunged into chaos, wild and panicked hordes clawing for survival, and spoiler: plenty don't make it. Owen has no time to mourn, not when more pressing matters plague his mind, sending off alarm bells -- he's alone in an unfamiliar room, with angry people screaming somewhere outside, and his pocket-knife digging rudely into his back.

He sighs and starts to get up off the bed, ransacking through the sparse furniture and procuring himself a half-burned map and a pair of gardening shears before he heads outside, cautious and wary, keeping close to the discoloured walls as he attempts to figure out just where he is.

Nothing comes to mind -- this is not a prison; it isn't much. Facility, he notes, looking up at the dull red sign that showed the med bay, and he starts off in that direction. If anything, he'll at least find some people around, right?

[This place is so strange and it's not jungle not outside not the paddock. The paddock had metal but for walls and fencing to keep them from getting out (and they certainly tried, many times, tirelessly). But she doesn't know these people, and they don't know her. All the girls are scattered. Charlie breathes fast, a little heat regulation, a little excitement, a little nervousness. It all feels too small to contain one raptor, much less four.

And still no Blue yet to share her meaty bounty with. If she doesn't show herself soon, Charlie might be forced to eat the rest of it.

All of the smells going around, and she head in a direction where it seems like the most smells congregate--the medical bay, where a lot of people have come and gone stocking up, searching supplies. She doesn't take her entrance with as much caution as she probably should, not even bothering to poke her head in first but fitting her body through the doorway and looking around, high and low. Even stranger smells are in here. It smells...kind of gross. Unsettling. She shifts on her feet, claws clacking. But there's something famil--

is that Alpha? Alpha-people not Alpha-dinosaur. Big distinction. Alpha-dinosaur wouldn't even be able to fit in here anyway. She stares, chickenlizard chest rising and falling rapidly, a little purrgrowl every time she exhales.]

[ Owen hears her before he sees her. The faintest nuances of that purrgrowl, familiar to him because he remembers when she first cheeped angrily at him, clawing her way into this world, and when her repertoire of noises grew together with her and her sisters, he knew them, too, aware of everything that sets them apart from each other. It's the sound of a curious dinosaur, and when cautious suspicion becomes confirmation and realization once he sees her, Charlie, whole and unhurt (how could this be? He saw her burn up, he saw her destroyed by an overenthusiastic rocket launcher), he stops and stares.

Impossible. Impossible, but here she is, exploring her surroundings and testing their limits. It's still jarring to see her out and about, and in this moment, Owen realizes that she's seen him, aware of the recognition. Charlie has never possessed the knife-edge aggression that her sister Blue has, but it doesn't mean that she's any less deadly on her own -- but he's aware, too, that she remembers him.

Just how that will translate to that current situation, he's not entirely sure, but he knows that getting an arm bitten off won't bode well for a reunion. Of course, there might be the unlikely scenario that she had gotten off unscathed after all (but what are the odds?), and he takes a wary step or two closer, eyes trained on the raptor as he moves into a position he knows she will understand.

Pack. Family. ] Charlie.

[ He speaks up -- he knows that raptors don't quite know the meaning of words, but he speaks these two syllables in her vicinity often enough, says it to her enough that he knows she will remember it, too. Charlie, what he calls her; and he holds up a hand, clickaclick. Communication. This is how they speak.

He hopes she remembers this, too. Now that she's out in the open, he has a responsibility, more than ever, to make sure that she doesn't eat the survivors. ]

[Yes! Yes, Charlie, this is her, this is the identity that Alpha gave her. She might not always listen well, but for now she does. She's lacking direction, and at least this will give her a little stability, somewhere to go.

On the other hand, he's also on the ground with her, where she could attack if she so pleased. The thought does cross her mind. At least he's a normal people-shape. Some of these other people are...strange.

The clicking makes her lift her head, rise and shut her mouth for at least two seconds. Attentive. Awaiting orders. Maybe Alpha has a treat for her? She stalks a few steps closer, eyes never leaving him, chittering quietly.]

[ There they go. The good news is that Charlie remembers her conditioning. The bad news is that Owen currently doesn't have her favorite snack on hand. A quick once-over assures him that she's unhurt, and without Blue here to anchor her behaviour Owen takes charge, gesturing onwards as he keeps his gaze steady, his own heartbeat even.

It might be the end of the world, but it doesn't mean that he's looking forward to getting a chunk bitten out of him before he gets down to do anything meaningful. ]

We're moving, Charlie. [ A few clicks, and he moves beside her, never turning his back on those rows of very sharp teeth. First, they're going to find her food, and if Charlie's alive, then the others could very well be here, as well. Owen's not too sure what he feels about that, especially with them out in the open and with only the thread of trust between him and his pack.

Onwards is what could possibly be a storage area for food, and Owen's curious. ] Let's go.

[She does have food--someone was kind enough to give her a box of delicious raw bloody food to chew on--but he doesn't indicate to her that that's what they need, nor does she have a way to articulate that she has this. (And besides, what good carnivore is going to turn down even more food sources?) If he gets close enough, he might smell blood on her. WHOSE IS IT? Who knows, she promises she didn't kill anyone yet.

The clicker still has her attention, all of the training still there. Moving, that word she recognizes, and go, she knows that word too! And she watches his hands. Not with the intention of biting them off just yet, but watching for all the signals he gives. Orders. Direction.

With go in mind, her body practically vibrates, a childish wiggle through her body that sends her tail swiping some pill containers to the floor. She wants to run. Run through the jungle, run after pigs. Outside. Her claws click with impatience, but she'll follow along for now.]

[ ...Well then, it's good to see that Charlie's spirits haven't been dampened by the vastly different landscape. Owen glances wryly at the bad pill containers that she'd punished, sensing the restless energy that he knows he has to tame; he has to control this, to manage that surge of energy before she hurtles forward and gets them both into bigger trouble.

Or eats the first person she sees -- either way, not ideal. ]

Hey. [ He raises his hand in a fist, commanding her attention. No, not this way. She doesn't get to go outside if she doesn't settle down. Orders and direction -- he knows where they have to go, and she can't be running wild when they do it. They hunt, together.

Owen meets her eyes squarely, calmly, cueing her to draw on his grounding energy. Patience. ] Not that way, and you know it. Settle.

[Maybe Alpha will lead her to an outside with ground and trees to run. Settle. She can settle. With a petulant snort, she won't be happy to settle, but she'll settle for Alpha's sake. He probably understands this place better. This seems like it would be a people kind of place. (Spoilers: she isn't happy about that, either.)

But...fine. It's fine, we're all cool here. Her pose still holds energy ready to spring forth at a moment's notice, but she otherwise seems to be able to reel it in, buckle down, and get to work. Focused.]

[ Dinosaurs are not made for beds. Dinosaurs are also not made for small, enclosed rooms, either. Which makes Blue's initial situation difficult to deal with.

It will be easy to see that something was kept inside the room that shouldn't have been. Claw scratches took up many parts of the walls and the door--the mattress is torn to pieces and innards are spread across the cold floor. For whatever reason, there happened to be a pile of blood bags in the room as well, which...she investigated, bit into, and subsequently leaked all over the place. All in all, the room that Blue woke up in looks more like a murder scene.

But she could hear noises outside--the sounds of meatsacks shouting, the bang of metal against metal. There was an out and she needed to find it. She's relatively familiar with the concepts of doors, large gates in the paddock had taught her that much. She recognizes that if she needs to be out, it's through the door.

After a few tries, much like her predecessor, Blue takes notice of the strange bent metal protruding from the door proper and eventually nudges it open. (Granted, she nearly shuts it on herself when she first gets it open, but once she can stick her snout out of the crack? She's through.)

And yes, that is a dinosaur in the hallway. The noises themselves echo along the cold hard walls, not the sort of audible reverberation she's used to. It puts her on edge, with nothing familiar for her to call on, so she's a little jumpy and hisses at any surprising noise. She can pick up various scents, all familiar in the sense that all meatsacks have a base smell in common. But one in particular sticks out.

Alpha.

He's been here, he's been down this hall.

She calls out. Caw! Caw! Her voice echoes along the walls, like all the sounds too, but that particular call is the same she makes any time she's trying to pull the pack together. I'm here! Where are you? ]

[ Blue is calling for him, and he knows it. Her distinctive, echoing summons do not go unnoticed, especially in this unfamiliar territory. Owen stops short when he hears her, before he moves forward, tracking the echoing sounds of the call and closing in -- he hadn't thought that he would see her again, after everything that had happened and he had to cut ties, because it would never have been possible for him to take her away from Isla Nublar; that was her home.

He knows, too, what it meant; raptors were pack animals, and Blue had lost her sisters in the ensuing fracas -- his heart had been heavy when he let her go, hearing her call out for her sisters. He wonders, now, if she knows that they're gone, if she understands loss.

Animals do, usually, and raptors, he supposes, would, too.

But most importantly, there is a dinosaur in the hallway that is otherwise populated with at least a few stray humans now and then, and Owen's more than eager to track her down and keep her from deciding that hunting humans is a great way to pass the time. He comes to her quickly enough, here.

Here. Owen's here and he whistles to get her attention. His surprise to see her and his wariness as to how she would receive him aside, he steps into her field of vision, bold but calm. They are a pack, they are a family, now more than ever, here. ] Blue!

Edited 2015-07-12 05:43 (UTC)

[ In some respects, she is aware. Though she understands object permanence, that things exist when she can't see them or interact with them, death can be more complicated than that. Charlie--Charlie had gone missing. But she had always been more easily distracted. It was unlike her to be gone from a hunt, but she hadn't seen Charlie die. She didn't know.

Echo was another story. Though Blue had been immobile on the ground, as she recovered, she could see and smell Echo's death. That was loss she understood--her sister was hurt, her sister wasn't calling for help. Something happened. No good, no good. Delta had been hurt. No good, no good. Alpha was in danger. No good, no good.

Those were all things she understood.

Alpha had told her to go, that he wasn't going to accompany her to get the pack back together. The permanence of that decision, however, remained unknown to her. Alpha always disappeared for periods of time, but Alpha always came back. She supposed that was just part of being the Alpha--he had things to do. He had been with other meatsacks, he supposed, that he chose to be important. One she recognized the smell of from a few previous occasions, but paid little heed. The only two that really mattered were Alpha and Alpha's companion who worked with them too. She allowed his touches, that was a big step.

So Alpha, once again, returned as expected. As he's supposed to. Because he's Alpha and that's what he does.

She knows that whistle. Blue's head immediately turns to the direction, her name following. "Names" are concept that had been introduced by Alpha in the first place. Concepts of other animals and meatsacks is one thing, but the repeated and unique mesh of sounds to indicate an individual is special. That's why he's Alpha.

Blue spots him further off, but she closes the distance quickly. As she approaches, she slows, her claws clicking along the flooring. When she comes to a stop, it's a short ways away, her head cocked slightly to the side. Then, she chitters questioningly.

You're here. Where is here? Where is the rest of the pack? ]

[ She doesn't attack him, and that's a good thing. Even better, that she recognizes him, is talking to him -- he might not be able to make out specifics, but he understands the general intention of it. Blue's confused, and she's wondering where the rest of their pack is. Owen doesn't know how to tell her that it's just them, for now.

He steps closer, carefully, gauging her reaction. Blue's not hostile; her tail is too low to signal any sort of attack, and none of her siblings are nearby. Despite everything, a small part of him is glad to find her safe and well -- Jurassic World is going to be a jungle now that the humans have evacuated and the park is no more, and Blue would have to learn many more key survival skills if she wanted to stay alive.

Right now, however, it's time to lead. To walk with her and to keep her close -- she won't attack him, he knows it now, not after what happened; but she is still dangerous and unpredictable, as most wild animals are wont to be. ]

We've got to find some food, Blue. [ He says quietly, knowing that she'll probably grasp some of the meaning even if she can't register the words. He gestures onwards, right towards the exit, before resting a hand carefully on her back. They're moving, and they have to be quiet and careful. ]

[ Sometimes reading body language is the easiest form of communication, though there's still plenty that's lost in translation. Blue seems to be waiting for some sort of instruction, some indication of what they should do. He is the Alpha, after all, and while she will make decisions in his stead, it's ultimately his job to lead the pack where it needs to go. Even if it's just a pack of two.

She recognizes the syllables that make up her name, however. It's a sort of lazy, rounded sound that she came to associate with him wanting her attention some time ago. Early images of his large, pink blurry face and those same sounds together bloo, bluu started to form an idea in her mind. Though she can't produce the same sounds and there are calls all the raptors have for each other, as well as the pack at large, it does feel a little special to have a sound that Alpha gives them too.

"Food" is another sound she recognizes. She perks immediately at that, immediate stress of the strange surroundings gone at the thought of a hunt. She makes a high clicking noise in her throat, indicating her interest. Though she flinches at first to the hand on her back--not a type of gesture she's used to--but she accepts it and slowly walks beside him. A part of her wonders why he isn't in the front, but...meatsacks are strange. And she can forgive him some confusing things. ]

[The med bay housed a familiar silhouette - a woman with red hair that had gone frizzy in the South American humidity, dressed in a lavender tank top, a muddied and bloodied skirt that was once white, and those same stilettos that he said she wouldn't last two minutes in.]

[There she was, still fresh from Isla Nublar, looking through the cabinets for items that could be of use. So far, she had a pile of gauze bandages, a jar of cotton balls, and a bottle of disinfectant, all on the gurney beside her. She had also spirited away some canned goods from the kitchen and had them laid out beside the medical supplies - some cans of beans, vegetables, fruit cocktail. Even in the apocalypse, the woman was still trying to eat healthy.]

[She was just looking at her list - she'd managed to make one, ticking off its contents with a pencil - when she turned around to look at him.]

[Claire's jaw dropped, and relief flooded her features.]

Owen!

[The way she said his name spoke volumes - fear, hope, relief, sadness - a story that perhaps no longer needed telling.]

[There's that familiar smell again. Echo traces it and closes in on it carefully - slowly - because the other almost-Alpha she encountered had her confused about this place. She turns the corner and stands at the end of the hallway, watching him. He looks more like her Alpha than the other one, and he certainly smells more like her Alpha. She gives him a small chitter, hoping to incite some further action that will remove her doubt either way.]

[ There she is.

Owen raises his head, his attention caught when he sees her, the familiar mottled skin, the fact that she doesn't seem to bear any injuries he thought she would have endured. Echo is cautious, that familiar, permanently sneering (Elvis, they all call her because of that scar, a product of a failed bid for dominance) countenance he looks past because she, too, is a part of the pack.

He hears the chitter and tilts his head, before he takes a few careful steps forward, letting her see him better. He's Alpha, he's steady, unassuming, hands spread wide and upwards to communicate, the distinct sound of a clicker pattering out a beat between them. ]

Echo. [ There's a chance she will pounce and rend his flesh from his bones (there's always a chance), but he's watching her like a hawk, trusting that she won't, that she remembers him, because he knows her chitters like the back of his hand, and she's lost, too. ] Easy, girl, it's me.

It's such a stark contrast to the Not-Alpha she'd dealt with earlier, it's hard to think she ever confused anyone with him. His tone, his movements, the familiar clickaclack. She chuffs and strides closer, falling short to sniff again and rumble. Treats? Maybe since she's here and Blue isn't she'll get the bigger treat.

Or maybe she could take him out, rechallenge Blue for the pack, and be Alpha herself.

She ticks her head at him, considering.

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( OPEN ) GAME START.

owen grady | jurassic world | OTA

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