( 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

clarke griffin | the 100 | ota

[omnes]

MEDICAL BAY

[ it isn't the first time that clarke's woken up in an entirely unfamiliar environment with no recollection of how she got here. this looks nothing like the sterile white room of mount weather, but it's still her first association, and it isn't a good one. for a moment, her hands clench into fists, and she has to just breathe and remind herself that she got her people out, that moutn weather is no longer a threat.

( the price had been too high — but she has to bear it. she bears is so they don't have to, and that only works if she actually bears it. so she has to. she can; she's strong enough because she has to be. )

rational thought kicks in a moment later. she isn't restrained. the doors might not be locked. she checks her surroundings first and finds an axe that rmeinds her of bellamy's and some other items. when her gaze falls on the glowing sign saying MEDICAL BAY, she takes another, longer look around. ]

Is anyone here actually hurt?

[ her voice is a little rough; it's been a while since she'd last been around people. but if someone here is hurt, she can help.

and then she can figure out where she is and why she's here. ]

TOP OF THE WALL

[ so far, she's found more questions than answers. the world didn't end on july 3rd, 2015. it's debatable whether the world ended at all because it's survivable again, isn't it?

none of this adds up. none of this makes sense, and there's a feeling of dread coiled tightly in clarke's stomach that hasn't let up since she'd woken up and thought of mount weather. at least there are weapons. at least this is a defensible position. whatever that means, it's something. what it means is probably that whoever built this place knew that there was something or someone out there that might attack, but that's not a surprise.

still, when she catches movement from the corner of her eye, clarke's jaw clenches. there's something out there — and there's someone on the wall with her, and so she turns to them, voice urgent: ] Did you see that?

aaaaaay medical bay

[naturallywavy]

—Does a splitting headache count?
_{[ you a get a response from (1) one not so enthused guy with white, wavy hair. He's perched with his back against one of the walls and has slowly been making his investigation around this place, all the while trying to fight off a horrible hangover that is nothing but his own fault. Gintoki stretches his arms in the air before dropping his temple into one of his hands, rubbing there lightly. ]}

Damn. It's an inconvenience.
_{[ what is??? he doesn't go into detail about it. But to his knowledge, everybody who he has seen seems to be okay. ]}

[omnes]

[ a lack of enthusiasm for their current situation is something that clarke can relate to, so it doesn't bother clarke that he doesn't seem all that excited to be here. she knows that she isn't.

( she meant to be somewhere else entirely; she was going to be alone and on her own so that she wouldn't be reminded of what she's done every time she saw the memory of it reflected in someone else's face —

there are a lot of people here, but none of them grounders or from the ark. she's not sure if that makes it better or worse. ) ]

Depends. [ her lips twist into something not quite a smile. ] Did you hurt your head?

[naturallywavy]

More like I pushed myself way too hard last night. Passing out was just my body to protect my liver. "Hey, hey, if you drink anymore of that, your liver is going to give out-- it doesn't mean you're a lightweight or anything."
It's a self defense mechanism.

_{[ so ... no.. he isn't hurt by anything that has happened here. ]}

It's a damn inconvenience the world supposedly ended while I'm fighting a hangover.
_{[ ???? ]}

[omnes]

[ a hangover explains why he's complaining about the headache, but it also means that he isn't really a patient in need of treatment, that clarke can - and has to - focus on more important things. so her gaze slides away from him, already back to cataloging her environment. the ground has taught her that: if you're not in a defensible position and you stop? people get hurt. ]

Drink a lot of water. [ that's the best thing to do after a hangover.

a moment later, though- ] Just make sure it's clean. [ you never know, do you? ]

[naturallywavy]

Hey. Don't say stuff like that so ominously. There's got to be clean water somewhere around here.
_{[ cricket chirp. ]}

Right? Have you found any?

top of the wall

[rondels]

[ her tentative wanders have brought her back to the gate with the sign numerous times already, but it's not a lack of courage keeping her from venture out, rather than a desire to know more and be at the very least prepared for whatever may be out there. she's faced down so many hideous things in a short space of time that that is the least of her worries. at least with genlocks and rage demons and ogres, she knows just about what to expect. it's a pity this place isn't as littered with moth-eaten, half-destroyed books as other places she's been to in her various travels. they were always so useful for finding at least slivers of information that could be suitably utilised.

the wall seems like as good a place as any to try and take a look at the surroundings, make a visual map of the area if she can't find the tools to make one. or, perhaps, one that already exists. nothing has caught her eye so far, though. she makes a note to investigate the building in which she woke again, later, but she sees the movement, too. it throws away all other thoughts as she narrows her eyes to inspect the area where it seemed to be, but now? nothing. she turns her head, slowly, to the other girl, and grimaces faintly. ]

Yes, [ though her eyes drift back to that spot again, her voice a little distant, thoughtful. she sounds a bit calmer than you might expect. ] Perhaps whatever these walls aim to keep from us.

[omnes]

[ clarke has learned the value of swift and decisive action, but she's always known the value of caution, of rational thought and of making a plan before you act, of thinking. she isn't going to venture out blindly when someone's made these walls to keep something out. ( of course, it's possible that these walls are meant to keep them in, but the gate does not look like it will be difficult to leave and so clarke has discarded that option as unlikely. )

she's suspicious of the people around her; none of them look like grounders and none of them seem to be from the ark and there shouldn't really be a third group of people on earth because the men and women of mount weather are all dead, died at clarke's hand and -

she's not thinking about that, but she doesn't trust the people around her, either. distrust does not mean that she cannot talk to them, that she cannot ask them for information or use them to further her own goals: survival, finding her people, not necessarily in that order except how will she find them if she's dead?

so she gives a nod at the answer. ] At least we're not hallucinating, then.

[ or both of them are hallucinating. ] I'm assuming that's the case. Why else build something like this?

[rondels]

[ offering a thin smile, fliss nods, though her eyes cast out towards the sprawling land again, uneasily. ]

Best to take comfort in the little things, I suppose.

[ such as the fact that they're not hallucinating. she does not currently feel like a beacon of hope and good will, though she can't really remember when she last felt particularly positive about the imminent future. it's easier to pretend, or at least be somewhat encouraged, when you are surrounded by a company of individuals who wish for you all to succeed. fliss cannot let herself be so disheartened by being alone, for she's not alone here, not really. there are other, just as confused by this as she is, and amongst them, invariably those who will be willing to work together to find answers.

it's strange to think, though, that she feels the absence of her companions so keenly already. they were all she had left. a worrying thought crosses fliss' mind in the form of how much she relies on their presence to support her, and then scurries away again just as quickly. ]

It is well fortified, [ fliss agrees, unknowingly about to echo clarke's thoughts. ] Though leaving would not prove very difficult, if one wished to do so.

[ she pauses, thoughtfully. ]

I wonder whether we should raise an alarm. If it were perhaps some enemy of those who built this keep — [ for that is the only word fliss can think of to describe the compound ] — there is a possibility of attack, but... the movement lacked intent, did it not?

[omnes]

[ clarke doesn't feel like a beacon of hope and good will, either. she feels tired and lost and dirty, she's worried — not to say scared — and yet, none of it matters. she left her people so that they wouldn't have to be faced with what she's done to save them, and she left because she couldn't bear to be reminded of her own action, to see the disgust she feels reflected in their faces, but right now, she's worried for them and she'd give anything to know that they're all right, that whatever got to her hasn't gotten to them, that they're safe.

that's all she ever wanted, on the ground. ]

If that was a scout for an army, it's someone either incompetent or really, really good. [ the movement lacked intent - which could be on purpose, or it could be because there really is no intent to attack. ]

Do you know anyone here?

[ raising an alarm might cause a panic, or it might mobilise people who know what they're doing. with the hundred, clarke would be able to tell what effect an alarm would have.

here? she can't. ] Maybe a scouting party would be less alarming.

[ and more dangerous. ]

[rondels]

I do not.

[ the answer obviously troubles fliss somewhat, and as soon as she gives it, she worries at her lower lip with her teeth, just for a moment. without her companions, she doesn't feel as inclined to act strong, either. it's strange, but the weight of being a grey warden that followed her all around ferelden, she doesn't feel it here. she can't say if it was a something that came with the joining, because no one ever mentioned it, but she feels it all the same. the desire to be a leader falters without a clear objective and without support that she knows she can rely upon.

still, acting deflated won't help her here. clearing her throat a little, she nods, looking back to the young woman with renewed focus and clarity in her expression. ]

I believe you are right. Whatever is out there is likely known to whoever had the foresight to ensure this keep's creation, but it doesn't appear that any such individuals remain here to be questioned.

[shuckit]

[ 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?

[omnes]

Immune? [ the word makes clarke think of different things — of learning about immunity against illnesses from her mother, but also of the resistance against radiation that both the grounders and the people from the ark have developed, that the mountain men lacked. in a way, she's immune to radiation, and that thought brings back the memory of scorched bodies, of people dying, children and adults alike.

it's enough to make clarke's stomach clench, to make her feel sick. she tries not to let it show, and while she's gotten more adept over the last few months at hiding her emotions from those around her, it still shows in the tightness around her eyes, to the corner of her mouth.

they have more in common than just the fact that this isn't their first creepy sci-fi rodeo: clarke has tried to lead people out, and she's lost people, too. maybe there could be kinship in that, except she no more knows about thomas' past than he knows about hers.

maybe that's for the better right now. ]

What do you mean?

[shuckit]

To... the Flare?

[ everyone in the outside world knows what the Immune are, you can’t exist in that world without the Flare touching you.

maybe she didn’t. maybe the place the flat trans sent all the immune that ran through it was somewhere that the disease hadn’t reached, somehow. when he’d looked through, though, it was just nature - almost like the glade inside the maze. just grass and trees and mountains. no one was living there.

but it wouldn’t be the first time things weren’t what they seemed. ]

I’m Thomas. [ not that it’ll mean much to her, even if she was in that group. ] My friends and I - we were leading the Immune out of the WICKED compound.

[ a pause, and he licks his lips nervously, before adding on. ] What's the last thing you remember?

[omnes]

Clarke. [ that's the easy part about this - everything else makes no sense whatsoever. the things he mentions are things clarke has never heard of, not in history class and not in her time on the ground. ]

Is that what this is? A WICKED compound? [ it pays to know your enemy, she's learned that all too well by now.

but even if it is, and even if thomas knows something about wicked that could help them now, she hasn't really answered any of his questions. of course, she doesn't want to tell him what the last thing she remembers is, because the memory that features most strongly, even if it isn't chronologically the last, is killing everyone in mount weather, is burnt bodies and jasper's accusations. ]

I've never heard of WICKED or the Flare, and the last thing I remember is walking away from Camp Jaha.

[ a beat. ] And you're neither a grounder nor from the Ark.

[shuckit]

[ thomas's brow furrows, and he shakes his head for a moment, looking down. that's not right. there's not way any of the people they left with wouldn't know about at least the Flare. Unless something was done with their memories, but WICKED only ever erased them, not replaced them.

strange. ]

I've never heard or Camp Jaha, grounders or the Ark. [ he answers, and chews at the inside of a lip for a moment after, mind working at runningg through theories and possibilities. ]

Maybe that's what they want.

[ whoever it is that put them here. the confusion, the different stories. maybe they're trying to make them feel like they're nuts. after a moment, he digs in his pocket, pulling out the scrap of paper he'd woken up with, holding it out to Clarke, with the note on it reading "FIND THE SIX FOR ANSWERS". ]

Found that when I woke up.

[sabotages]

[ it may not be a first for clarke, but it's a first for bellamy. like most of the people he's passed ( passed, for the moment, because he doesn't recognize a single person ), his enthusiasm for the situation is lacking. to anyone who doesn't know him, it would be easy to dismiss him as angry, his brow creased and the line of his mouth tight. his posture is too stiff, like one poorly planned move would have a result akin to a tightly wound string snapping. but beneath the pissed off demeanor he's nursing is something more like panic — bright and sharp.

he's looking for someone when he stumbles upon clarke, the sight of her taking him a moment to actually process. once he does, however, he's quick to act and devour the distance between them. ]

Clarke!

[ and he's reaching for her shoulders with little to no hesitation and— she's not hurt. she's okay. he hasn't forgotten about the photograph in his pocket, far from it, but one step at a time. it only takes him another beat before he's pulling her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her, even while he keeps an eye on the other people trying to get their bearings. if there's anything he's sure of, it's that they're not safe here. but then, he can't remember what 'safe' feels like. ]

[omnes]

[ clarke hasn't recognised anyone either, but she recognises bellamy the moment he calls out to her, crossing the distance between them. she recognises the sharp sting of panic underneath his anger because she's seen it before, and then all observation is superceded by one thing only: relief. it's strong enough to be blinding; bellamy is her co-leader, bellamy is capable and strong and pragmatic when clarke isn't, they complement each other and she's -

god, but she's missed him.

she's still except for a hand lifting to reach for him, but she doesn't even need to. he's already there, pulling her into a hug, and clarke knows that there were many reasons, good reasons why she left, why she didn't enter camp jaha after everything that she's ( that they have ) done, but it was never bellamy she was walking away from, even when she'd literally walked away from him. ]

Bellamy — [ she presses her face to his shoulder and her hands com up to hug him, fingers tangling in the rough material of his jacket. his name's a prayer for absolution and it's relief. she drags in a long breath.

they're not safe here, but they're safer together than they are apart from one another, and a part of clarke - the part that lost a father and faith in her mother, faith in the system, the part that's still idealistic - wants to just keep holding on, wants to bury her face against his neck and ignore the reality of their situation for as long as she can.

she doesn't. she draws back as soon as she can bear it, even though she doesn't go far. ] Are you all right? [ and, a moment later - ] Have you learned anything about where we are?

[sabotages]

[ the relief is shared and it feels a lot like a small mercy in the haze of confusion — it's something that's tempting to take for granted, but he remembers when she walked away from camp jaha, remembers when she said goodbye to him. he can't take this for granted, can't take anything for granted, really, because all it takes is a wrong step and everything unravels. bellamy's grip on clarke is tight, maybe too tight, but he can't help it, even if he does let it loosen when she starts to pull away.

'safe' seems more like a fairy tale, but he'll take this, keep it close. ]

Yeah, I'm fine. [ roughed out and low, because this is their conversation and it isn't meant for anyone to overhear. bellamy is still trying to decide if they're among friends, or— well. but that isn't the priority at the moment. ] I know they know a hell of a lot more about us than we do them.

[ which doesn't come out happy in the slightest, his jaw tightening, but— ] You wake up with anything strange?

[omnes]

[ his grip is tight, but clarke is glad for it because she feels like she might unravel or come apart, the only thing holding her together determination and now bellamy's arms around her, and yet - she has to step away, has to be strong and hold it together.

she can't ask him to hold her up; she has to do that herself. she isn't so selfish, not even now. that's part of why she left; she couldn't ask anyone to bear that weight in her stead. ]

A throwing axe. [ she lifts it from where it hangs around her waist. ] And a photograph? I don't recognise who's in it or where it is, but it's a man climbing up a building.

[ a beat. ] You?

[sabotages]

[ clarke pulls back the rest of the way and he doesn't fight her on it, his gaze shifting to take stock of what the people around them are doing. clarke is strong, capable, and she's more than proved that time and time again — even when they went toe to toe. neither of them can afford to be weak, but then, they never really could, could they? weakness demands its price in blood. bellamy doubts that's changed with the scenery, even if most of the people milling about look as disoriented as he feels.

his eyes cut to her axe when she lifts it and then flicks back to her, catching her gaze. he doesn't understand most of what's happening, not really, and it's not a feeling that's settling well with him. ]

Well, at least they armed you. Maybe we should hunt down that building. [ the amusement in his tone is deadpan, sarcastic, but not a slight against her. a rise and fall of his shoulders and he's tugging the photograph of octavia out of his back pocket, offering it to her. ] I don't know where she is.

[ a swallow and he averts his eyes. ] I found a pair of headphones, too. I left them back in that room.

[ that room because it isn't his. he doesn't want it, doesn't want anything to do with it. ]

waaaaaaaaaall.

[triggerpull]

[ It's not his thing to really talk to anyone. There's nothing conversational in his—he listens to orders, and relays them to his men. He tells Felix to be quiet. He baits Freelancers into questioning their ideals.

He's not a fan of smalltalk, so he's taken to something important rather than attempt to mingle with the others. He'll let Felix do that, if he's around. He doesn't care about how worried these people are, not unless that worry puts something he cares about at risk.

That list, of caring things? Is very, very short. ]

Yes.

[ His answer is curt, filtered heavily through his helmet. His voice is deep naturally, but the speaker on his helmet gives it a sharp tinny edge to it. He's recovered his sniper rifle from the room he appeared in, and pulls it off of his back to balance it in both hands as he stares across the land through the scope. ]

It's gone.

[omnes]

[ there is a throwing axe hanging from clarke's belt and a gun strapped to her thigh and while he's responded to her question, neither the armor he's wearing nor the curtness of his reply inspire confidence or trust in clarke — she's running short on both to begin with. so when he draws his rifle off of his back, she tenses and one of her hand shifts to hover above the gun.

she doesn't draw her own weapon; she's not looking to start a war so soon after having ended one. ( after having ended two, in a manner of speaking - and both at too high a cost. ) ]

Any sign of what it was?

[triggerpull]

[ He's wary. He always is. But until he finds Felix or gets information, he has to stick around. But he's almost certain that some of the sim troopers may have followed him here—taking off his armour is not going to happen. ]

It was likely bipedal. At this range, it's possible that it's human.

[ The characteristics are... off. Where did it go? What is it doing? Has the creature lost it's mind, or is there purpose for... whatever it did?

He's about to go and look, actually. He'll just scope out the area for a few more minutes. ]

[omnes]

Think it's hostile?

[ she knows they don't have enough information to go on — but the man is obviously military and he hasn't attacked clarke, so she might as well ask him for his opinion. ]