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Some random internet fuck with a keyboard and too much free time.






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Hey y'all, I'm sorry to have to tell you but I'm going to have to pull out. I'd really rather not, but real life just threw the mother of all spanners in the works my direction and I don't know if I'll even have access to a computer in the coming weeks.

I'm sorry.
@MelonHead@Say Anything@RedDusk

You'll all also be able to look at our CS's for more detail on... whatever. I guess.
Tzofia glanced to the sound of a human voice- a new one, not previously heard before. Definite proof that there were indeed actual survivors. She wasn't alone anymore.

She looked to the man running towards them, shouting out, "Your friend is alive but he's definitely gonna need help! Lot of lost blood, going to need his wound properly cleaned as well, I don't have the supplies."

They were nearing the ground, for which she was thankful. Fire escapes weren't exactly comfortable places to begin with, being cramped into one with another person in uncomfortably close proximity -not to mention bleeding all over her- just made it beyond... awkward, uncomfortable, etc. She called back to the man on the ground, "You have any more, or just him?" Pointing at Brandon, she continued, "And do any of you know if there are still functioning evac centers?"
Hi.

I'm the other somewhat GM-like person who will probably spend most of her time designing various firearms.
@Darcs

I'mma run countries too though.
In Cancelled 11 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Zodiac raised an eyebrow at the bickering as it increased in intensity before she could stand it no longer.

She sighed, poking looking to the Djinn, then the human, and then back the Djinn, "Maybe both of you check your charts? And then check each other's? Has it crossed your minds that both of you might be wrong? Sure, the presence of Mirod and Exilum isn't exactly a good omen but heaven's sake not everything means death and destruction. Maybe just a nice little skirmish or two, little bit of carnage, swords are rattled, and then everyone goes back to their staring contest."

She looked down to the piece of bread in her hands, squeezing it to make sure it hadn't turned into hardtack when she'd looked away. Whatever the Djinn and human were doing in response to her didn't register, at least for a second, as she contemplated the potential likelihood of the ship's crew having a plot to feed their passengers uncharacteristically edible fair laced with poison and then hold them hostage once they'd all passed out.

Looking back up to the two... astronomers? astrologists? oddballs? she noticed they hadn't achieved enlightenment, which was just as well she supposed, enlightenment tended to come bundled with being not quite right in the head. Believing in such ridiculous notions such as "peace" and "compassion", whatever those were.

"By the way, I think the crew's laced the food with some sort of poison. I mean, ships simply don't have good food unless one is rich, or the captain. I think they plan to knock us out with the food and hold us hostage. It's a more likely explanation than a ship actually offering food to average passengers."
"I can't! I'm injured." The man on the roof called back down to her.

"Shit." She swore, looking around for any nearby undead before hoisting herself onto the ladder. Climbing as quickly as she could, she paused for a second, what if this was a trap? What if he was just waiting for her at the top of the ladder with a knife to slide between her ribs? She hung on the ladder for several seconds, thinking, before shaking her head to clear it and continuing climbing. As she neared the top she bunched her legs, launching herself off the ladder and onto the roof.

He wasn't there.

"Th'hell is he?" She muttered, looking around. Still unsure whether or not this was a trap, she pulled out her tomahawk and moved a roll of gauze to a more easily accessible location, just in case he really was injured. "Coming, coming." She called out to the rooftop, her voice muffled by the gas mask.

She hurried around a corner, coming across the man... "standing" at the base of the stairs. She quirked an eyebrow before putting the tomahawk back on her belt and raising the roll of gauze. "Just for the record, I have no intentions of killing you unless you try to kill me. I also feel the need to mention that you have poor taste in places to get blown up in." She looked to his side and the wound, "I can fix that, you have companions, right?"
Aaaaaaaand first IC post is up.

Bit longer than I meant, sorry about that.
Tzofia was jolted awake by the discordant thunder of rapid gunfire. She dove behind a table, expecting the window to shatter from bullets, or bodies, or something, something would surely come sailing through the window, splintering the boards and probably trying to kill her. Something was on the roof, but she never saw it. A huge blast shook the building and everything around it, and she hunkered down behind the table even more. Surely something would come, something was going to come.

But nothing did.

Cautiously she peaked out from behind the table, Glock at the ready as she rose slowly from her kneeling position, nearing the gap in the boards on the window to look out at the surrounding city. Her eyes widened as she saw what seemed to be a small horde laying in the streets, heads still snapping but for some reason, not walking.

"The hell happened...?" she whispered in surprise before she pulled back from the window. This meant there were survivors somewhere, she didn't know where but they were there, clearly. Scooping up the rucksack that'd been lying forlornly near the window, she gave the small resturaunt one last visual sweep for anything to take with her. She'd already cleared the back area of any food that hadn't already spoiled, and there had even been some bottled water, but there was nothing left worth taking that she'd not already crammed into the bag.

The door of the restaurant had gotten stuck in the time since she'd barred it with a table and locked it with a chain. Even after dragging away the table and pulling off the chain, the door took considerable effort to force open.

Stepping out into the street, she looked left and right at the carnage she'd been avoiding within the somewhat safe confines of the restaurant. An acrid stench burned her nostrils, and she hurried to don her gas mask- just in case there was something truly foul in the air. She fingered the grip of her Glock, but kept the pistol holstered as she instead pulled out a matte black tomahawk, constantly on watch for any shambling figures.

Where had they gone? Surely they couldn't be too far, there weren't that many safe pla-

"Hey! Hey!"

A shout pulled her attention to the top of a nearby building -apparently the source of the explosion judging by the cloud of smoke- and the figure standing on top of it. He was waving at something, not her, but something in a different building...

She had to get to him, he obviously knew other survivors, and the more potential allies, the better. The only problem was the growing horde of undead at the base of the fire escape, obviously drawn by the explosion and now his shouting. "Idiot." She swore under her breath, looking around for some sort of distraction for the undead. Nothing but abandoned cars, but plenty of those. An idea sparked in her mind and she ran for the nearest one- a pickup that proudly proclaimed it had a V8 diesel engine. Definitely loud enough.

The door was missing, it looked to have been torn from the frame, probably along with the vehicle's owner. The keys however, were still in the ignition. Poor bastard, so close to escaping the horde, but so far.

However, this worked in her favor, she wouldn't have to hotwire the vehicle, which made things simpler. All she had to do was make the truck go and not stop until it hit something or ran out of fuel, whichever came first. A quick search turned up some wire which would work nicely, and she hastily tied the accelerator with the wire, rigging it so that all she would need to do was pull hard and jump, and the truck would keep going without her. Maybe it wasn't the most original idea, but it would work, she hoped.

Preparations complete, she hopped inside the vehicle. Its interior was spacious, and more than one bloodstain soiled what must have been at least somewhat tasteful upholstery. Not bothering to shout to the man on the roof of the nearby building she turned the key in the ignition.

Miraculously, the truck started, the diesel engine growling noisily as she revved it to catch the attention of the nearby undead and, hopefully, the man trapped by them on the rooftop. Flooring the accelerator, she barreled down the crowded street in the truck until she was less than ten meters away from the horde. Yanking on the wire, she felt the accelerator leave her foot and press against the floor of the truck, and the steering wheel lock up, keeping the truck on a straight course. She grinned, it worked.

Then she jumped.

Managing to land in a rolling motion, Tzofia quickly stumbled to her feet to see the horde chasing after the rapidly moving vehicle. It was kind of a shame, that would've been a nice truck to have before the infection. Shaking her head, she wasted no time in hurrying to the now clear fire escape and shouting up at the man, who could hopefully hear her, "Come on! They're going to be chasing that for a while. Move your ass before we both get eaten!"
Hey y'all, I'm joining the fun it seems.

I should have an IC post up soonish.
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