[center][sub][h1][color=black][b] C U Y A H O G A :[/b][/color]
[color=ed1c24][b]C U Y A H O G A :[/b][/color][/h1][/sub]
[sup][h3][color=black][b] V A L L E Y  O F  T H E  D A M N E D[/b][/color]
[color=ed1c24][b]V A L L E Y  O F  T H E  D A M N E D[/b][/color][/h3][/sup]
[img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1108206767327948810/1149850340372525126/5895230571_25a6b82c1c_b.png?width=631&height=473[/img][/center]

[color=white][sub][ ❇ ]  R O L E P L A Y  P R O M P T[/sub][/color][hr][indent][indent][color=silver]In a small office room, a tripod-mounted camera is pointed across from a chair. A brunette woman presses record, and sits down in the chair to speak to the camera.[/color]

[indent]My name is Karen Byrne. I am—or, rather, [i]was[/i]—a ranger at Cuyahoga Valley National Park.

The Park Service had prepared us for all sorts of emergencies as part of our training. When the outbreak had reached the park, though, it had quickly became clear that we were woefully underprepared. 

At the beginning, the incident had started out small. We had received reports that a visitor was reported to be acting out and aggressive to some of the park's other visitors near Brandywine. As procedure dictated, we were supposed to remove him from the premises, which wasn't something we didn't have to do often. Yet when some of us went to address the situation, several other sectors of the park began to report similar occurrences to that of the Brandywine visitor, as if madness had suddenly taken Cuyahoga by storm. Like a [i]wildfire[/i].

Let me ask you something: do you know how difficult it is to keep thousands of visitors scattered over thirty-three thousand acres from panicking all at once? We couldn't. Our resources were stretched thin. We had lost any hope of control over the situation the second the bloodbath started in the Valley.

I don't know how many guests or my fellow coworkers made it out. Some of them... Some of them had been devoured alive right before my own eyes. And then... they would get up, as if nothing had happened.

Now, zombies shouldn't exist outside of fiction, but I know damn well what I saw. It shouldn't be physically possible for any living thing to get back up after their insides had just been violently ripped out and feasted upon. The resulting pain and blood loss should've killed them almost instantly. 

But it did happen, and people died because of it.

That... That was some months ago. As far as I am aware, I am the last of the Cuyahoga Valley rangers. I probably should've left the park long ago, but a few guests had holed up with me, and I feel it is still my responsibility to ensure their safety. But perhaps it is better to stay in Cuyahoga, if what those who have sought refuge here from outside Cuyahoga say is true. That places such as Cleveland and Akron are much, [i]much[/i] worse than it is here. If that is the case, then staying in Cuyahoga is likely our best chance at staying alive.

Whatever we decide, I just hope that we can make it through the winter.[/indent]
[color=silver]Standing up from the chair, the woman walks across the room and over to the camera. Upon the park ranger pressing the stop button, the video recording comes to a sudden end.[/color][/indent][/indent]
[color=white][sub][ ❇ ]  O O C  I N F O R M A T I O N[/sub][/color][hr][indent][indent]'ello, everyone.

This roleplay idea is a slight twist on an old roleplay I had done several years back on the Guild that takes place in a collaborative apocalyptic setting between [@mickilennial] and I. Rather than focus the roleplay on escaping a small town, however, I wanted to try something different by taking inspiration from my own character and have the cast be tested against the elements along with the undead out in the great outdoors. If something such as that happens to interest you, then please let me know. Once I get enough people, I'll move along with setting things up.[/indent][/indent]