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!
mucked: (☂ i thought you died alone)

[personal profile] mucked 2015-07-12 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Like instinct -- like clockwork -- she checks the narrow silver watch on her wrist. Peggy knows the hours won't likely correspond to whatever timezone is native to this place. But habits are just that: habitual. And for a thin moment, she looks as though she wouldn't be out of place as one more cog in a massive bureaucracy. Pencil skirt and pumps and silk blouse, standing at a jaunty angle as she checks the time. Dreaming of the moment when she can clock out for the day.

Peggy sighs. "Damned if I know how long it's been. I woke sometime before dawn, I think. The first few hours were a whirlwind."

Panic. Discovery. Dismay. And then coming across Steve, a revelation that had eaten up such a large chunk of her awareness. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours.
doorbuster: (Default)

[personal profile] doorbuster 2015-07-13 03:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Early bird, huh.

Chris gives her a quiet nod, considering their situation as he rubs an alcohol wipe over one of his arms, and it comes away black, brown, and red. This is generally how Chris clocks out at the end of his work day. "Where were you before you woke up? What were you doing?" He's not sure what sort of common thread they may have between them, if anything. At a glance, they seem to be polar opposites. She comes across as clean and crisp in both appearance and personality, while Chris is all gruff and grime in every way possible. It likely isn't something job-related; Chris can't imagine her working in a similar field, but hell, he's been wrong before.

Perhaps it was location, too. Maybe they were in the same area when they were both spirited away.
mucked: (☂i searched for form and land)

[personal profile] mucked 2015-07-13 03:25 pm (UTC)(link)
"New York," she answers -- chipper and apparently eager to share some facts more than others. After the question of a hazy chronology with Steve, she realizes that a year might actually be of some use to the both of them. But she doesn't give hers, having not yet decided how far she'll take her deception with the Captain into her conversations with others.

Peggy crosses her arms and watches him as he tidies up. Whatever he'd recently been through, it must have been an ordeal to cause such a mess. More reminders of the Western Front. "I had just moved to a new address. I'm afraid the day was all terribly ordinary. Boring, even."

Ah, there came the lie. But she pressed through it with grace and gumption. On the day she'd been sucked from all her surroundings, Peggy had been decompressing after a prolonged fight with Leviathan. She'd been finding an appropriate secure spot to store Captain America's blood. She'd been feeling cut loose in the wake of a dozen disasters.

"But you don't look like you were bored at all -- wherever you were."
doorbuster: (pic#)

[personal profile] doorbuster 2015-07-13 03:49 pm (UTC)(link)
New York... welp, strike location from the possibilities list. Strike on occupational similarities too, he supposed, unless yesterday-or-today-whatever had just so happened to be her day off. "Congratulations on the new place," he mumbled without looking up. Shame she's here, she just might get evicted if she's not back home within a month.

Indeed, though, his day hadn't been boring at all. "I clean up messes," he offers vaguely, perhaps a little obviously. The BSAA patch on his arm is also a clear tell regarding his line of work, but to those not in the know, so to speak, it likely just gives the impression of Generic Possibly-Military Organization #103. He glances up every so often as he continues the process of cleaning, disinfecting, and treating any scrapes or burns he finds on himself. "China had a little bit of a mess." Still has, his mind corrects, because technically, he hadn't finished the job before he'd ended up here. Fuck. He frowns. "I wouldn't suggest visiting for a while."
mucked: (☂ and made my way back home)

[personal profile] mucked 2015-07-13 03:57 pm (UTC)(link)
A brief nod -- almost a thank you for his mild congratulations. Easier done than explaining to him how she'd been perp-walked out of her previous address, and now relied upon the charity of a playboy-inventor to let her crash at one of his less-used properties. Best to paint a picture of a humble urban boarding house for young professional women. Best not to say anything at all.

But that doesn't stop her from feeling the burn of hypocritical curiousity. Peggy knows she's never seen a custodian quite so muscled and armed as all that.

She only has one word for him -- and she presents it as a question: "Army?"

Wet work. Special ops. Perhaps marines. Peggy herself had trained under the SAS before diving head-first into military intelligence. She can as good as taste the wafting certainty of special forces on the air.
doorbuster: (Default)

[personal profile] doorbuster 2015-07-15 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
Easier, yes. As entertaining? No, but Chris can definitely understand her hesitance in sharing personal details such as a slightly-criminal-sounding background.

Not a bad guess, though. He gives a noncommittal shrug, because she's not entirely wrong, but it's not current information and he doubts she wants to hear his life story. "Sort of an independent organization."
mucked: (☂ if he hollers)

[personal profile] mucked 2015-07-15 11:09 am (UTC)(link)
She isn't ashamed of how her brows raise up. Something a little tamer than full-blown incredulity creeps across her expression. Her instincts don't like what he describes: independent organizations can be very very good. But they can also be very very...challenging. Peggy hails from a time when the world still reels in the wake of World War II. Neutrality -- independence -- is a tough concept. One merely is a part of something or one isn't.

"I would like to inquire upon the manner of that organization--" She talks her way around the question itself. Let him rebuff her if he likes. After all, she's just as unlikely to describe the SSR with any telling detail.