Briza

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

I would like to partake.

~ Mad Wonderland ~ (An Alice: Madness Returns AU-ish RP)

@UnknownScarlet4, flog me interested, then. Is there any material I should read before hand?

~ Mad Wonderland ~ (An Alice: Madness Returns AU-ish RP)

How much knowledge of Alice: Madness Returns shall the players need to have?

Infectious: Zone B Archives

@Remipa Awesome, welcome aboard! We're happy to have you, and please, feel free to jump in whenever you may.

🅸 🆁🅴🅼🅰🅸🅽 : ＷＩＮＴＥＲＴＩＤＥ (Horror/High Casual)

I might be interested if I can think of a character.

Infectious: Zone B Archives

@Xyo, @DeltaV, @Huckleberry1911 -- We're ready for take-off.

Infectious: Zone B - A Post-Apocalyptic Role Play

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury,

We are live: IC Thread

Infectious: Zone B Archives

W E L C O M E

TO THE SHIT SHOW

Hey everyone and welcome to the official down and dirty IC Thread for Infected: Zone B Archives. @SilentWriter83 will be your GM alongside the lovely @Briza as co-GM. Please, contact us for any personal questions or even a simple chit chat. Below, players will find the game's rules and character sheet format. Do not post your character sheets under the Character Tab until your character has been approved. If a player has any comments, questions, or concerns, do not hesitate to post here.

^{R U L E S}

Rules

1. _{DO NOT GODMODE OR POWERPLAY} No one enjoys indestructible characters that are immune to any and everything thrown at them, nor do they like having their character controlled by another player. Unless it has been discussed between the parties at play, please don’t control each other’s characters if permission has not been given. It’s not nice.

2. _{DO NOT GHOST} @SilentWriter83 is a full-time college student who also works part-time. Both GMs understand life gets hectic, and things happen. Life is consistently crazy like that. So, please, please, please do your best to contact either GM, or the people you are interacting within the group, of any long term absence. A long term absence is classified as a week, leading to the next point. If you are bored or have writer’s block -- simply state your case. If you wish to leave, there’s no harm in announcing your leave. No one will judge you for leaving. However, it is polite to let us know as to not keep us wondering where you are or pausing the game for unnecessary amounts of time while waiting for a reply from you.

3. _{PLEASE POST REGULARLY} No, this does not mean every day, multiple times a day. I do ask to attempt at least one, good quality post per week. We prefer quality over quantity here, but I ask for once a week in order to keep the game moving and fun.

4. _{FOLLOW THE POSTING ORDER} For those of you unfamiliar with a posting order, it is just the order in which posts will be made so no one gets left behind. However, if Players One thru Three are interacting and Player Four and Player Five are interacting independently of Players One thru Three, Players One thru Three follow their order and do not have to wait for Players Four nor Five to post since they are not interacting with those two players (and vice versa). This will be more apparent once the game gets rolling.

5. _{HAVE FUN WITH THIS} At the end of the day, we are all here to have fun. I want this to be a great interactive experience for everyone.

6. _{CONTACT SILENTWRITER83 OR BRIZA} If at any point you cannot partake in the game; a certain subject matter makes you uncomfortable; or you just want to talk -- please, feel free to contact either GM at any point for any reason. We are all friends here; this is a safe space; we all want to have fun. The GMs want to make this as fun for everyone as possible. If you have any suggestions we encourage you to tell us; the more collaboration, the better!

^{C H A R A C T E R S H E E T}

Layout

[b]Appearance:[/b] (Real Life Picture Only)
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Class:[/b] (Survivor, Greaser, Loner, Govvy)
[b]Occupation:[/b]

[b]Personality:[/b]

[b]Background:[/b]

[b]Goal:[/b]
[b]Equipment:[/b]
[b]Weapons:[/b] (One Specialized, Two Secondary)
[b]Skills:[/b] (Medical, Firearms, etc. Limited to Seven, One Expert; Two Advanced; Two Adept, Two Novice)
[b]Family:[/b]
[b]Miscellaneous:[/b]

^{P O S T I N G O R D E R}

Order

To keep things clean and running smoothly, the GMs have decided to implement a posting order as read below:

1. @SilentWriter83
2. @Briza
3. @Spud
4. @Hiro Dark
5. @Remipa Awesome
6. @MenageAUne
7. @Catchphrase

Order is subject to change in regards to players dropping or joining.

Digimon - The Parallel Visage

ʀ ʏ ᴀ ɴ ᴍ ᴀ ʏ ᴇ ᴢ :

ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴅ ɪ ɢ ɪ ᴛ ᴀ ʟ ᴡ ᴏ ʀ ʟ ᴅ : _{T H I E V E S}

---

The other bodies arose from their unconscious state; one after the other; and Ryan eased her shoulders inside her jacket upon the knowledge of them not being corpses. Her small breaths quickly submitting in between her lips relinquished their nature with familiarity of confusion in the other humans’ questioning voices. The rest of her body relaxed as the surrealness of the scenario settled in her mind. Fears of this thing—this situation—being a permanent fixture pushed to the back of her mind. She could figure this out, like a puzzle. There was no reason to be so emotional, like a girl. Again, she kicked herself mentality. The trifling reminder of her inborn tendencies hardened her thoughts with lips pressing together, but her body was quick to wince in the sudden jerk of one of the newly awakened as he stretched his muscles and hurdling his feet into a chase after the omen creatures.

After the initial shock, her body shifted, and her hands pressed against the ground, smudging with the dirt and grass while pushing her body firmly, upwards. Her own question had been lost in the moments of action with a boot stepping backwards and digging a heel into the ground upon seeing the small monster turn and blast the male with some sort of ‘bubble blast.’ This thing was getting weirder, and she had to keep it together. She wasn’t some flaky girl who couldn’t handle a little danger nor adventure. It-it just wasn’t fair that she was being put into this position. Like, who else in the world would have to go through this?

Regardless of tendencies, necessity of the moment pulled her forward briskly and towards the boy, now unable to reach the small monsters who were floating away in the ski. While she watched them drift off, her movements slowed as the monsters began to address them. Her stage of bravery halted briefly into a slow jog until she was standing only an arms length away from the boy. She could feel her eyebrows tightening in anticipation, “If I may, to answer some of your questions - uh, no, you’re not dreaming, and you’re not dead.”

“Dumbasses.”

“Sister!”

Ryan swallowed at the sound of their voices. Heat flushed her cheeks in response. The deep seated need for the boy to chase after his stolen belonging was the same desire that caused Ryan to react in anger, “Who are you calling dumbass?” Her voice rose and nipped sharply at the plush, pink creature. Her own green eyes threw daggers into the large, dark eyes of the monster. Rashness taking over her emotions with fists clenched. She was wearing her good boots. One kick to the face an—Ryan cut her thoughts from going so far. There was no way she could kick that high, let alone jump that high. Her eyes narrowed and her stance moved into something less aggressive as the words of the monster’s halfhearted explanation of basically nothing sunk into her mind and the image of her keychain watch dangled in front of her—verily out of her reach.

Her head whipped around to look at the other two humans; eyes scanning the conditions of them as if she had some idea to join forces and take back what belonged to the boy and her. No, was she out of her mind? That was obviously impossible. She turned her attention back to the monsters. An adolescent demand and attempt at sounding authoritative sprang from her mouth as she called to them, “Hey! That stuff doesn’t belong to you! A-and, what do you mean you have other things to do, you thieves?” Her fist flung higher than she had expected, knocking it against the gray atmosphere in an unconscious attempt to show her threatened annoyance.

Swallowing again and biting down on her bottom lip to keep herself contained, Ryan could still feel the tingling sensation of frustration rosying her cheeks. She wanted to chase after them and try to see where they landed, but something held her back. Instead, she concentrated on calming her tightened chest while her once clenched fist, lowers and allowed her fingers to now fiddle at the place on her purse where her locket would have been had it not been stolen. Insecure thoughts of whether she was doing the right thing circled her mind. A lack of control over her bearings was maddening enough. However, She hadn’t the slightest idea what was happening; where she was; how she got here. She wanted answers, but all she was getting was a stupidly vague response about some ‘Digital World.’

At least, she wasn’t dead. Unless, those things were lying. B-but why would they need her watch? And where were they going? She was fuming on the outside but pouting on the inside. She never minded a good puzzle or mystery, but this was even worse than watching her sisters’ piece together which outfits to let their dolls wear. With her sisters, there were hundreds of outfit combinations, but at least, she could see all the pieces and predict some sort of potential combinations. Right now, though, she had nothing but a stolen key chain watch and her fragmented memories of reading The Chronicles of Narnia and the Time Quintet. Bizarreness was clearly not her forte.

THE UNDYING CRUSADE

Nikolai von Krähenvald:

M A R C H I N G O R D E R S ; R O A D T O N U B I N A - T H E A T T A C K

---

Crunching of brittle, dry bone occurred over and over as Nikolai wielded his morning star and thrusted with lightning rain springing forth from the metal staff and piercing the Undead into gnashed stenches of worthless scrap. His momentum picked up with each victorious stroke that turned the unnatural enemy back into fragments of shit. His heart was racing at the intensity, and more of his comrades were joining into the battle. A surrounding synergy emitted from them all as Belia guided their movements and placed a strong, firm hand of mountainous strength around them.

The low moans of creep and disgust echoing through the forest of the enemy had little impact when compared to the triumphant battle cries hoarding through the muscular jaws of the Duchess’ army. It was natural to know not all of the army was fairing as well as the surrounding area. It was clearly not humility to think such a thing but common knowledge for battle or war. The loss of life, wounds to be smeared across allies or foes—all ridden for potential or unavoidable death, was such a thing expected. If not his father’s own preliminary exposure to the horrors of battle and the accidental disgrace of death to curse his family, the world was not a place in which creatures grew to not know the customs of war.

Although, such a historic marker of naivety for the primary specimens entering war for the first time generally resulted in a hungered conscious trapped by the inevitable brutality and stone cold blood never to be washed from hands that came back alive. If it was such an excuse to hold, the Undead were meant to stay dead. The most holy Goddess Belia knew that the mystery expelling the enemy from their graves was a bad omen that needed cleansing. Remorse shown on the enemy was nothing but insanity; the shallow end of war could be justified by sending the new mercenaries into a deadly vague trap. Destroying a black soulless creature not worthy of this physical realm was nothing short of right and just. The world was losing nothing by the onslaught created by the Duchess’ army.

It was the ones not worthy of Belia, who did not pray hard enough—the crumbled mess of the once living succumbing to their demise on the battle field—made the many masks of war hard to bare. However, as Nikolai littered his surroundings in honor for Belia, the face underneath his own mask was knowing that the fallen had lost because Belia commanded it. A lack of faith dealt their faults single handedly; a weak minded persons were no more helpful on the battle field than a nuisance. They added unnecessary drama or an example of what not to be. So, even with the few gashes that nicked his tough skin, the sensation of near destruction—imperfect living—only increased his stamina and adrenaline. Belia had granted him favor; a gift with which he was not surprised to be blessed, "Oh, Mistress Belia, despise not our prayers like worthless pleeds, but delivers us from danger! For you alone art pure and blessed!"