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Justin
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[COLOR=DarkRed][u][b][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium]Infection: The virus fights through blood. So shall we.[/FONT][/b][/u][/COLOR]
[quote][b][i]Early May[/b]

It was a damn stormy morning. Well, morning, midday--whatever. Since I'd lost my job on Ft. Jenson, I hadn't been really keeping track of when I fell asleep or when I woke up.

I remember thinking as I dug through cans of nonperishables, trying to find those damn Pop-Tarts about my last day of work on post. Myself and my best friend/coworker, Andrew, had just finished a small oak removal on some SFC's front lawn when we got a call to come out to Malone 33--a firing range about 23 miles from our location. Something about our yard boss had seen a tree fall onto a bunker down in the range, and he wanted us to remove it so he could brag to some uniformed big shot about how his boys took care of it.

So we got in the truck and took a ride; me driving, as always...Andrew sleeping.

After about an hour of driving through the Malone Complex--a few thousand acres of ranges with about ten paved, unmarked roads snaking throughout--we finally found Malone 33, took a wet, nasty, red clay road down range a piece, and found our tree and bunker.

It was a shithole; a [b]royal[/b] mess. The tree was a [b]huge[/b] oak tree, and it had fallen onto that concrete bunker and busted it's left portion all to ****. Then there was that damn smell. At the time, I thought a racoon had died somewhere near by; now I know better.

Andrew was the first of the two of us to get his chaps on and get down to the jobsite. He cranked his chainsaw, a small Stil 250, and started limbing the smaller limbs off for us to chip.

I was the first one to see it, on 'account of Andrew paying attention to his work: A man came crawling out of the hole the tree had smashed in the wall. At least what was left of a man came crawling out of the hole the tree had smashed into the wall.

I was clear that the tree had knocked him ****-silly, or he was in there drinking. He stumbled out all open-mouthed and drooling, and I gave Andrew a sharp whistle to turn off his saw. Soon as he did, that fella' had turned toward him and was stumbling at Andrew and grabbing at him. Andrew's not one for playing around with drunks, so he kicked the guy in the stomach and made him double over.

No sooner had Andrew kicked him than the guy dove at Andrew's feet, grabbing and biting at his legs. Andrew knocked the hell out of him with the motor end of his saw and came charging back up the hill to where I was. I had already tried to get the yard boss on the Nextel, but he never would pick up. I got my Beretta 9mm out from the glove box and aimed it at the bastard.

It all gets kind of crazy after that. I yelled at the guy to stop over and over, but he kept trudging up the hill, moaning like he was dying. I even gave warning shots, but he didn't even flinch. So, I shot him the leg; he stutter-stepped, almost fell, but kept coming without a wince of pain.

I had only just started to freak out when Andrew yelled about more coming out of the hole in the wall. That's when I decided to let these bastards kill each other, and hopped in the truck, yelling for Andrew to join me. As he ran in front of the guy, the fella' lunged forward, and I reactively shot him in the chest. The bullet through him back this time, sending him rolling down the hill. But no sooner did he stop rolling than did he start getting back up again.

We cut out as fast as we could.

We nearly bogged down, but we cleared out quick enough, and headed straight back to the yard to tell the boss. But he wasn't there. A sharp-looking female uniform was there talking with the department head when we walked in. She looked at us, nodded at the DPH, and told us rather firmly to leave that post and never come back. Andrew started to question her, but she pulled her sidearm and encouraged us to 'move more expediently.' We did.

Since then, ****'s been weird. Murders all over Dayton and the surrounding areas, whole families being killed on at least three seperate occasions. That and me and Andrew are still trippin' about our encounter with that guy who was obviously more than just drunk. We're thinking about trying to find someplace a little more safe to stay for a while; we're working on a plan to get out if things get crazy for real.[/i][/quote]

[COLOR=DarkRed]
[u][b]Primary character:[/b][/u]

[b]Name: Blake Boston
Age: 19
Description/Picture: 5'9" brown hair, brown eyes. Sturdy build. *Clothing is not important at this time.*
Personal Info: Blake is a recently unemployed tree worker who lives in a small apartment in Dayton, GA with his best friend Andrew. In his free time he plays with Andrew in a metal band, he does home improvemeent on his parent's house in a suburbs, and he has a fascination with guns. He owns several.
Creative advantage: He owns multiple firearms, is a jack-of-all trades, and drives a big truck.
Storyline sample:

[u]Secondary:[/u]

Name: Andrew Stevens
Age: 18
Description/Picture: 6'2" blonde hair, green eyes. Thin and lanky.
Personal Info: Andrew is a recen;t unemployed tree worker from Dayton, GA. His is bestfriends/bandmates with Blake.
Creative advantage: He very intelligent and naturally charismatic. He is also good with his hands.
Storyline sample:


[u]There are a few guidelines to follow: [/b][/u]

First, this is a zombie outbreak RP. They are slow-moving, flesh-eating, moaning undead. The condition is caused by a virus, the source of which is identified later on.

Your character may start off with one weapon, but no two people may start off with the same weapon. So pay attention to other sign-ups. Also, no corny weapons like rocket launchers. Keep it realistic. Better and more weapons will come when your character meets mine. Having said that, neither of my characters have one primary weapon as of right now. When the game begins, I'll have a catalouge of weapons available for use by each member of the party, from which we will each choose our weapons.

I am also going to encourage you to have a secondary character (ie: A spouse or close friend.). This will allow one of your characters to be expendable, making gameplay more interesting.

There will be several major events, or chapters, in this story; all of which will entail specific instructions for each character. Many of these events will take on the role of a mission that must be accomplished, such as a supply run. These will be interspursed throughtout the story.

There will be only one party of no more than ten, unless I get a ridiculous amount of response from this, in which case I will form a second party. I encourage you to be creative, but reasonable.

Thank you.
[/COLOR]

[b][u][color=#800000]Primary character:

[/b][/u][b]Name: Prowler Kain Monark

Age: 15
Description/Picture: 5'11 , 156lbs , black messy hair , pale white skin ,

[/b][b]light blue eyes strong stocky and well built.

Weapons/clothing: Prowler wears black boots black baggy pants a black t-shirt and a black baseball cap. after the infection spread out he was forced to kill his dad with his Colt Anaconda 44 Magnum Revolver his dad was trying to kill him later on he had to kill his mother to.

Personal Info: prowler is just like any other teen-ager he doesn?t have a job yet but his dad takes him out to the firing range all the time to shoot guns he is an awesome marksman

Creative advantage: He is an awesome marksman and has being studying ballistics ever since he was twelve

[/b]What Happened: Prowler sat there cleaning out his dads revolver when he heard a masculine scream he ran out of the gun room to find his dad on the floor with another guy eating off his hand. Prowler brought up the gun and fired blowing the other guys brains out all over the floor he hurried over to his dad.



" Dad are you all right "

He was looking at his dad with a terrified look he ran into the bathroom and grabbed a whole bunch of towels when he got back his dad was siting there staring outside. Prowler walked over and felt his pulse it was weak but still there. He wrapped his dads arm with towels and then noticed another injury his fathers stomach was torn open. He quickly applied the majority of the towels to his dads stomach and pressed down his dad faded quickly and was soon dead. Prowler sat up for a second and then ran into his room and grabbed the phone he dialed his girl friends number and got the answering machine.

"****"

He cursed he left a message telling her he was going to come and pick her up. He turned around and his dad was in the door way his guts were hanging out of his stomach and blood was dribbling down off his hand.

"dad are you ok?"

Prowler asked his dad started limping towards him moaning his dad lurched forward and grabbed at prowlers arm prowler brought up the gun and put it to his dads head.

"sorry dad" "bang............"

Prowler paused to let the body fall down and then reloaded his gun, he ran into the gun room and grabbed all the ammo he could grab for the 44 and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed the car keys and went outside there were four, of them there prowler raised his gun and fired four times every shot counted except for one which hit the creature in the chest it kept coming. He shot it in the head and it dropped, Prowler got in the car and put the keys in the ignition it started up like a dream. He backed up out into the street and drove off down the road. There were those creatures everywhere he could only hope they hadn?t reached his girlfriends house. He got there and ran up the steps he rung the door bell and his girlfriend opened the door he hugged her and then said.

"we have to go"

she answered back

"but why?"

Prowler grabbed her and lead her out to the car she got in and she kept asking what this was all about he started the car up again and answered.

"you will see"

[u]Secondary Character:[/u]
[size=2][size=1][/size][/size]
[size=2][size=1]name: Machelle ivory[/size]
Age: 16

Description/Picture: long black hair , emerald green eyes , 5'9 , 121lbs.

Weapons/clothing: she doesn?t have a weapon she wears clack jeans and a black belly shirt

Personal Info: She hangs out with her friends and boyfriend all the time she is an anarchist and hates authority.

Creative advantage: um...... she can run fast?

What Happened: She was siting at home on couch when her boyfriend called and left a message a couple minutes later he came and picked her up she still doesn?t know what?s going on.

[/size][/color]

[CENTER][FONT=Century Gothic][COLOR=DarkGreen]Please don't double-post, it's against the rules. *merges posts*
- Sandy[/COLOR][/FONT][/CENTER]
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