Gowi
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You should look at my new account, I think.
Most Recent Posts
Officer Levitski started ferrying people into the church at 4:35 PM not 2:10 PM, btw, Hime. Though I am curious why people think an inner-city church is the safest place ever, maybe everybody is religious woah! =)
Self-control is nice when you aren't waiting 12 hours for something to happen. I'm joking of course, but I did think I'd see more than one post by the time I got back online.
I've edited my most recent post before I depart. Hope I see some nice posts when I awake, hope everyone likes the NPCs. =)
Anyway here's some mini-profiles before I go off:
Name: Richard Levitski
Age: 23
Gender: M
Occupation: Police Officer
Weapon: M&P22 Handgun (15/15)
Personality: Religious, Lawful, Moral, and Protective. \
POB: Parris City, USA
Appearance:
Name: Peter Simpson
Age: 34
Gender: M
Occupation: Real Estate Broker
Weapon: Lead Pipe
Personality: Self-absorbed, Pompous, Flirtatious, Easily Angered, and Impulsive.
POB: Parris City, USA
Appearance:
Name: William Robens
Age: 29
Gender: M
Occupation: High School Teacher
Weapon: Crowbar
Personality: Sarcastic, Cautious, Snide, Condescending, Perceptive, and Self-centered.
POB: Parris City, USA
Appearance:
Name: Chéris Allard
Age: 24
Gender: F
Occupation: BSAA Agent
Weapon: M92F Handgun (15/30), MP5 Assault Rifle (30/90)
Personality: Protective, Soft-spoken, and Bookish.
POB: Montreal, CA
Appearance:
Anyway here's some mini-profiles before I go off:
Name: Richard Levitski
Age: 23
Gender: M
Occupation: Police Officer
Weapon: M&P22 Handgun (15/15)
Personality: Religious, Lawful, Moral, and Protective. \
POB: Parris City, USA
Appearance:
Name: Peter Simpson
Age: 34
Gender: M
Occupation: Real Estate Broker
Weapon: Lead Pipe
Personality: Self-absorbed, Pompous, Flirtatious, Easily Angered, and Impulsive.
POB: Parris City, USA
Appearance:
Name: William Robens
Age: 29
Gender: M
Occupation: High School Teacher
Weapon: Crowbar
Personality: Sarcastic, Cautious, Snide, Condescending, Perceptive, and Self-centered.
POB: Parris City, USA
Appearance:
Name: Chéris Allard
Age: 24
Gender: F
Occupation: BSAA Agent
Weapon: M92F Handgun (15/30), MP5 Assault Rifle (30/90)
Personality: Protective, Soft-spoken, and Bookish.
POB: Montreal, CA
Appearance:
Player Name
Gowi
Character
Yoshi Amaya / Oroku Karai
Power and Abilities
Karai was trained as a member of the Foot from her reprogramming to her early teenage years and has shown an affinity and natural talent for the techniques that have been shown to her by her “father” including combat and stealth. She has extremely fast, agile, and intelligent which makes her a foe to be reckoned with. In addition to this she is experienced with various weapons ranging from the katana blade, hankyū bow, kusarigama, and such.
Unknown to Karai, she has a bond with a Shinto elemental spirit (of wind) which makes her naturally fast as well as forging her personality into one of a realist mindset, being prone to playfulness, spontaneity, and one of impulsiveness. As her spirit connection is un-awakened and unknown to her she does not have any of the powerful mystical abilities she is destined to have and the abilities that The Shredder desires.
Alignment
Lawful Neutral – orders by the Shredder is law, morality has no place in my heart and I will act on them swiftly and without hesitation.
Character Notes
Oroku Saki – “The Shredder” and Karai’s father, though unknown to her he is actually her abductor and killer of her actual parents.
Norinaga Tatsu – Descendant of Norinaga Kenshin and supposedly the inheritor of the spiritual bond to the elemental spirit of earth. An obedient member of the Foot Clan that was seduced by the promises of power and freedom to do as he pleases, he is willing to show The Shredder.
Mashimi Oyuki – Descendant of Mashimi Yukio and supposedly the inheritor of the spiritual bond to the element of fire. Witnessed her parents killed by The Foot and avoided capture by being “awakened” causing her to burn down her home and the ninja with it. The clan believes her dead whilst the police believe her to be an arsonist and child criminal, she has taken to the streets of New York City since nobody cares to help her.
Yoshida Tora – Descendant of the Yoshida clan and supposedly the inheritor of the spiritual bond to the element of metal. Member of the Foot Clan and an ally to Karai that is friendly towards the girl. Shredder allows his “closeness” to Karai simply due to his role as a potential foot mystic and soldier.
Irma Langestein – Descendant of Mang Thrasha and supposedly the inheritor of the spiritual bond to the element of water. Is a student in New York City and friend of April O’Neil, is oblivious to her heritage and the possibility that she has inherited something the Foot Clan is so desperate to kidnap her for. The actions against her have not occurred… yet.
Background and Story
Descended from the Yoshi clan, Amaya was the descendant of an obscure Japanese figure known as Yoshi Hamato and lived her life in Japan fairly mundanely for the first few years of her life. However, unbeknownst to Amaya and her parents—the young girl had inherited something from a very distant ancestor that was tied into the spiritual aspects of the world, a spiritual bond that one man named Oroku Saki desired to control for his own nefarious means. It was then it happened when Amaya’s life was turned upside down and her family was taken from her before she herself was reprogrammed by The Foot and Oroku Saki at the tender age of nine. From this point onward, Yoshi Amaya died and Oroku Karai was born—she does not remember anything about her life before The Foot and believes the things her father has told her about her past and that her clouded memory was a result of her own incompetence when training recklessly.
Karai follows her father towards this new “prosperity” and obediently looks forward to it.
Sample Post
“The dark alleys smell of the failure of this society of ‘America’ as those without order wallow in their own filth and shame as they refuse to take what they need to survive, relying on the most basic of subsistence and on the charity of their oppressors. New York City calls them the homeless, but I see the lifeless instead. It pains me to even bear to look at them, but The Shredder has not ordered their deaths nor have they seen something they should not have at this point in time so they are allowed to continue this pitiful existence. There’s a tug of hesitation to despise them so at the center of my body and I am not sure why as I look down upon them, why do I feel so restrained by my own inhibitions?” Karai Oroku looked to her closest ally and only true friend in the clan, Tora Yoshida, as they sat in a room in a warehouse in New York City that had been chosen as one of the Foot’s discreet safe-houses.
Karai’s reservations about her own feelings worried Tora who had obediently followed the Foot as it was request of him by his father before his passing, but even with such obedience he felt something was off in the air of his comrades—like there was something dark and malicious growing in the shadows. With a compassionate frown he attempted to speak to Karai about these feelings of hers as she viewed it important enough to come to him about it.
“I think it’s because you care about their well-being, thinking that if they had order in their life then their purpose wouldn’t be so without vigor and resolve.”
Karai stopped to think on the words from her friend before she raised her head with a confident smile. “You are very wise for your years, my friend.”
Tora chuckled humbly, “I suppose. Is there anything else that is on your mind, Karai?”
“Actually… there’s a lot in my thoughts, ever since we arrived here in New York. I feel like something is calling to me… whispering in my ear, something that I didn’t feel was present in Japan. I feel oddly home but I don’t feel comfortable, and I don’t know why.”
The feeling of restlessness was hard to pin down for the teenaged girl as she tried to understand her thoughts in conversation with her fellow foot clansmen as she pondered what could be creating such uncomfortable nostalgia. She didn’t like New York or so she believed, so how could she feel like it was home? Home was in Japan, not in some overtly unorderly cacophony of complacency and greed. The feeling that something was calling to her somewhere in New York worried her greatly and she did not want her father to feel like she was uncertain or unfocused—as those were traits of the failures of The Foot and not the prodigal examples as she was expected and oftentimes proved she was. But what could she do about such anxiety? She hoped expressing it through speech was what she need to do.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I feel like I need to be here, but not for the reasons we need to be here—like there is a greater reason calling me to a place I’m not fond of, a place where it’s not about the Foot Clan… but about me, like the spirits above are calling out to me trying to make me understand something but I’m not sure what it could be. I refuse to let my father hear of this or see this from me, I need to remove myself from this feeling before our work here begins.”
“I’m not sure I have any thoughts on that.” Tora admitted, feeling Karai’s thoughts were worrying for a plethora of reasons. She was afraid of looking weak in front of her father, yet she felt like she needed to be here for reasons that weren’t connected to the clan, and that it was overwhelming her. Tora didn’t like it one bit and while he wouldn’t dispel such information to her father unless ordered to, he felt like Karai was not ‘whole’ and it was hurting her so immensely that he could not bear to see her continue to do so.
“But I can say that you should be with peace with your feelings.”
“That’s a very simple answer.”
“Sometimes a simple answer is all you need.”
Karai smirked, “Quiet, Tora-kun.”
Gowi
Character
Yoshi Amaya / Oroku Karai
Power and Abilities
Karai was trained as a member of the Foot from her reprogramming to her early teenage years and has shown an affinity and natural talent for the techniques that have been shown to her by her “father” including combat and stealth. She has extremely fast, agile, and intelligent which makes her a foe to be reckoned with. In addition to this she is experienced with various weapons ranging from the katana blade, hankyū bow, kusarigama, and such.
Unknown to Karai, she has a bond with a Shinto elemental spirit (of wind) which makes her naturally fast as well as forging her personality into one of a realist mindset, being prone to playfulness, spontaneity, and one of impulsiveness. As her spirit connection is un-awakened and unknown to her she does not have any of the powerful mystical abilities she is destined to have and the abilities that The Shredder desires.
Alignment
Lawful Neutral – orders by the Shredder is law, morality has no place in my heart and I will act on them swiftly and without hesitation.
Character Notes
Oroku Saki – “The Shredder” and Karai’s father, though unknown to her he is actually her abductor and killer of her actual parents.
Norinaga Tatsu – Descendant of Norinaga Kenshin and supposedly the inheritor of the spiritual bond to the elemental spirit of earth. An obedient member of the Foot Clan that was seduced by the promises of power and freedom to do as he pleases, he is willing to show The Shredder.
Mashimi Oyuki – Descendant of Mashimi Yukio and supposedly the inheritor of the spiritual bond to the element of fire. Witnessed her parents killed by The Foot and avoided capture by being “awakened” causing her to burn down her home and the ninja with it. The clan believes her dead whilst the police believe her to be an arsonist and child criminal, she has taken to the streets of New York City since nobody cares to help her.
Yoshida Tora – Descendant of the Yoshida clan and supposedly the inheritor of the spiritual bond to the element of metal. Member of the Foot Clan and an ally to Karai that is friendly towards the girl. Shredder allows his “closeness” to Karai simply due to his role as a potential foot mystic and soldier.
Irma Langestein – Descendant of Mang Thrasha and supposedly the inheritor of the spiritual bond to the element of water. Is a student in New York City and friend of April O’Neil, is oblivious to her heritage and the possibility that she has inherited something the Foot Clan is so desperate to kidnap her for. The actions against her have not occurred… yet.
Background and Story
Descended from the Yoshi clan, Amaya was the descendant of an obscure Japanese figure known as Yoshi Hamato and lived her life in Japan fairly mundanely for the first few years of her life. However, unbeknownst to Amaya and her parents—the young girl had inherited something from a very distant ancestor that was tied into the spiritual aspects of the world, a spiritual bond that one man named Oroku Saki desired to control for his own nefarious means. It was then it happened when Amaya’s life was turned upside down and her family was taken from her before she herself was reprogrammed by The Foot and Oroku Saki at the tender age of nine. From this point onward, Yoshi Amaya died and Oroku Karai was born—she does not remember anything about her life before The Foot and believes the things her father has told her about her past and that her clouded memory was a result of her own incompetence when training recklessly.
Karai follows her father towards this new “prosperity” and obediently looks forward to it.
Sample Post
“The dark alleys smell of the failure of this society of ‘America’ as those without order wallow in their own filth and shame as they refuse to take what they need to survive, relying on the most basic of subsistence and on the charity of their oppressors. New York City calls them the homeless, but I see the lifeless instead. It pains me to even bear to look at them, but The Shredder has not ordered their deaths nor have they seen something they should not have at this point in time so they are allowed to continue this pitiful existence. There’s a tug of hesitation to despise them so at the center of my body and I am not sure why as I look down upon them, why do I feel so restrained by my own inhibitions?” Karai Oroku looked to her closest ally and only true friend in the clan, Tora Yoshida, as they sat in a room in a warehouse in New York City that had been chosen as one of the Foot’s discreet safe-houses.
Karai’s reservations about her own feelings worried Tora who had obediently followed the Foot as it was request of him by his father before his passing, but even with such obedience he felt something was off in the air of his comrades—like there was something dark and malicious growing in the shadows. With a compassionate frown he attempted to speak to Karai about these feelings of hers as she viewed it important enough to come to him about it.
“I think it’s because you care about their well-being, thinking that if they had order in their life then their purpose wouldn’t be so without vigor and resolve.”
Karai stopped to think on the words from her friend before she raised her head with a confident smile. “You are very wise for your years, my friend.”
Tora chuckled humbly, “I suppose. Is there anything else that is on your mind, Karai?”
“Actually… there’s a lot in my thoughts, ever since we arrived here in New York. I feel like something is calling to me… whispering in my ear, something that I didn’t feel was present in Japan. I feel oddly home but I don’t feel comfortable, and I don’t know why.”
The feeling of restlessness was hard to pin down for the teenaged girl as she tried to understand her thoughts in conversation with her fellow foot clansmen as she pondered what could be creating such uncomfortable nostalgia. She didn’t like New York or so she believed, so how could she feel like it was home? Home was in Japan, not in some overtly unorderly cacophony of complacency and greed. The feeling that something was calling to her somewhere in New York worried her greatly and she did not want her father to feel like she was uncertain or unfocused—as those were traits of the failures of The Foot and not the prodigal examples as she was expected and oftentimes proved she was. But what could she do about such anxiety? She hoped expressing it through speech was what she need to do.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I feel like I need to be here, but not for the reasons we need to be here—like there is a greater reason calling me to a place I’m not fond of, a place where it’s not about the Foot Clan… but about me, like the spirits above are calling out to me trying to make me understand something but I’m not sure what it could be. I refuse to let my father hear of this or see this from me, I need to remove myself from this feeling before our work here begins.”
“I’m not sure I have any thoughts on that.” Tora admitted, feeling Karai’s thoughts were worrying for a plethora of reasons. She was afraid of looking weak in front of her father, yet she felt like she needed to be here for reasons that weren’t connected to the clan, and that it was overwhelming her. Tora didn’t like it one bit and while he wouldn’t dispel such information to her father unless ordered to, he felt like Karai was not ‘whole’ and it was hurting her so immensely that he could not bear to see her continue to do so.
“But I can say that you should be with peace with your feelings.”
“That’s a very simple answer.”
“Sometimes a simple answer is all you need.”
Karai smirked, “Quiet, Tora-kun.”
Parris City, St. Albert’s Catholic Church
Will moved his attention to Fleur, who realized they had not introduced themselves, which was something he was hoping wouldn’t be brought up for some time. The only reason he knew Officer Levitski’s name was for obvious reasons when the officer escorted everyone into the church hours earlier. In Will’s mind, all of this was pointless claptrap and they needed to be careful and maintain this as a safe place for as long as possible—which meant no noise and by extension no talking. But as he was not armed outside of a small crowbar he had been using earlier to help barricade the church. Henry’s intent on digging around in the church the same reaction on him as this whole ‘introduction’ business. The history teacher had no desire to work with anybody here unless they proved essential to surviving what was to come. If Henry could snoop around quietly that was fine by him, but the way things were going had him on edge.
“No, I had no idea you were French, do regal me with the details of such a shocking revelation.” He commented in reply with a dry and rather aggravatingly sarcastic tone. This made the salesman, Peter Simpson take a deep breath of aggravation.
“Hey, screw off, she’s just being polite.” Peter moved his view to Fleur, “Sorry about him, he doesn't have any manners. I'm Peter Simpson, I’m sure you’ve seen me on signs all over here in Parris City.” Peter apologized as he attempted to embody a more positive disposition, though it was unsure if he was acting that way to get ‘close’ or genuinely was being friendly. Either way, there was truth to his self-absorbed words that he was known in Parris City as Peter Simpson was one of the most successful real estate agents in Parris City as he had been described as selling houses to some of the richest denizens of Parris City. It would explain his business attire and his Rolex watch gripping his left wrist.
Levitski nodded as he recognized the man, “Yeah, you’re the big time real estate guy, right?”
“That's right.” Peter smirked as he turned attention to Will, “What about you?”
“Will. My name is Will.”
The matter-of-fact remark did not help Peter’s views of Will as he felt that the remark was another comment that proved that he was a pompous, sarcastic jackoff. In addition to the attitude, there was this sense that Peter remembered Will from somewhere but he couldn’t remember exactly where and the nostalgic déjà vu he was feeling was not a positive one at that. As Peter kept to his thoughts, Officer Levitski kept his eye on them both as the two had been ‘fighting’ since they first heard each other's voice. As an officer of the law he felt he needed to keep them from starting trouble in such a dire scenario.
“If anybody has forgotten, I’m Officer Levitski.”
Will moved his attention to Fleur, who realized they had not introduced themselves, which was something he was hoping wouldn’t be brought up for some time. The only reason he knew Officer Levitski’s name was for obvious reasons when the officer escorted everyone into the church hours earlier. In Will’s mind, all of this was pointless claptrap and they needed to be careful and maintain this as a safe place for as long as possible—which meant no noise and by extension no talking. But as he was not armed outside of a small crowbar he had been using earlier to help barricade the church. Henry’s intent on digging around in the church the same reaction on him as this whole ‘introduction’ business. The history teacher had no desire to work with anybody here unless they proved essential to surviving what was to come. If Henry could snoop around quietly that was fine by him, but the way things were going had him on edge.
“No, I had no idea you were French, do regal me with the details of such a shocking revelation.” He commented in reply with a dry and rather aggravatingly sarcastic tone. This made the salesman, Peter Simpson take a deep breath of aggravation.
“Hey, screw off, she’s just being polite.” Peter moved his view to Fleur, “Sorry about him, he doesn't have any manners. I'm Peter Simpson, I’m sure you’ve seen me on signs all over here in Parris City.” Peter apologized as he attempted to embody a more positive disposition, though it was unsure if he was acting that way to get ‘close’ or genuinely was being friendly. Either way, there was truth to his self-absorbed words that he was known in Parris City as Peter Simpson was one of the most successful real estate agents in Parris City as he had been described as selling houses to some of the richest denizens of Parris City. It would explain his business attire and his Rolex watch gripping his left wrist.
Levitski nodded as he recognized the man, “Yeah, you’re the big time real estate guy, right?”
“That's right.” Peter smirked as he turned attention to Will, “What about you?”
“Will. My name is Will.”
The matter-of-fact remark did not help Peter’s views of Will as he felt that the remark was another comment that proved that he was a pompous, sarcastic jackoff. In addition to the attitude, there was this sense that Peter remembered Will from somewhere but he couldn’t remember exactly where and the nostalgic déjà vu he was feeling was not a positive one at that. As Peter kept to his thoughts, Officer Levitski kept his eye on them both as the two had been ‘fighting’ since they first heard each other's voice. As an officer of the law he felt he needed to keep them from starting trouble in such a dire scenario.
“If anybody has forgotten, I’m Officer Levitski.”
Parris City, St. Albert’s Catholic Church
“What about it, Officer Levitski? Should we make a ton of noise looting this church?” William Robens inquired with a sense of self-centered safety as he turned around from the window and looked to the police officer with a blank expression. Robens knew the police officer's triggers as he had particularly good at analyzing people, it was something he picked up from his father growing up who had been a police detective for the city for several years before retiring to San Francisco five years prior. It was also why he was good at keeping a classroom in line and he didn't want some idiot to screw up him breathing to the next day.
“Those people infected out there are attracted to noise.” Will reminded the police officer.
Officer Levitski was the ‘leader’ of the group and the self-appointed protector of all of them, as well as a devout Catholic. His deep sense of religion and guardianship over the others made a knot rise in his throat as he looked to Henry. “He brings a good point, we can’t let them hear us.”
Peter Simpson rolled his eyes, “Then we’ll do it quietly, Christ.”
“…please don’t use the lord’s name in vain, sir.”
“What about it, Officer Levitski? Should we make a ton of noise looting this church?” William Robens inquired with a sense of self-centered safety as he turned around from the window and looked to the police officer with a blank expression. Robens knew the police officer's triggers as he had particularly good at analyzing people, it was something he picked up from his father growing up who had been a police detective for the city for several years before retiring to San Francisco five years prior. It was also why he was good at keeping a classroom in line and he didn't want some idiot to screw up him breathing to the next day.
“Those people infected out there are attracted to noise.” Will reminded the police officer.
Officer Levitski was the ‘leader’ of the group and the self-appointed protector of all of them, as well as a devout Catholic. His deep sense of religion and guardianship over the others made a knot rise in his throat as he looked to Henry. “He brings a good point, we can’t let them hear us.”
Peter Simpson rolled his eyes, “Then we’ll do it quietly, Christ.”
“…please don’t use the lord’s name in vain, sir.”
Pudding said
*Wants to address how we have suddenly sprinted an hour ahead in time*So like, do we need to put down the time in each post?reading TheRpgGamers' post confused me... I thought we were all in the church of something. o.o
I believe he was trying to set the POV of his character from before he got to the church, not an hour ahead of time but several hours before. I think. Drew is looking into other developments though.
Yes, we are in the church.
Timeline is only necessary for past events and such, I believe most of the POV shifts will become few in number from here on. =)
Character-to-character posts are expected to be short, so it's not a problem. I'm sure Henry will be surprised by his awakening. =)
Esailia said
Sounds like a plan. Glad I refreshed before posting XD
I'm done editing my post and it's ready for player interaction.
Parris City, Downtown – 9:01 PM
The darkness struck the city in the hours since the initial chaos, and the nightfall finally brought a numbness to the frantic violence and chaos of the hours before. St. Albert’s Catholic Church settled in downtown Parris City looked as if the only place of sanctuary to any on-looking survivors from the adjacent Dakowski Park as the sight of the wreckage of a bread truck within the front glass of a restaurant two blocks down illuminated the darkness with the fire that still softly lingered from only an hour prior. Several church pews and various debris had been used to make a makeshift barricade in front of the large wooden doors of the chapel. At least the stone walls of the church kept the incessant groaning of the recently dead outside quiet enough for some to get some rest. There were men and women gathered around the area from different walks of life, obviously due to their clothes. Businessmen, students, nurses, even a woman dressed fairly provocatively for a church. Leaned against a wall was a man whose head was bandaged from one of the survivors in the area: Henry Moore.
The man had been mistaken as an undead earlier; covered in blood and barreling into the church, of course someone smacked him with some sort of stick. And when he didn't get up and start groaning well; it was obvious he wasn't one of the undead. Still, it had been some time and he was still unconscious; that never bode well. One of the survivors, Peter Simpson, was getting anxious and generally impatient. “Just when the hell is the government going to evacuate us! I thought they had special...trained soldiers or something to protect us!”
“Sir, just calm down;” Richard Levitski, the lone police officer amongst the survivors held his hand out apologetically. “The government probably has people on their way now. It just takes time.”
William Robens shuffled his hands in his pockets as he looked over the former sales clerk with an expression of apathy before moving his eyes back to the streets through a small crack in the barricade. The survivors in St. Albert’s was growing in number and that meant a higher chance of being discovered by the infected things outside that were roaming the downtown streets looking for a good meal and the twenty-nine year old former high school teacher found his chances for survival becoming very thin. A cigarette was pressed firmly in-between his lips, but it wasn’t lit at the exact moment. He wasn’t exactly sure if the infected relied on smell or anything.
“Please do scream louder so the infected can hear you, I really do wish to die.” He spat, albeit in a dry monotone with a sense of condescension as his eyes remained peeking through one of the barricaded windows, not even making contact with the person he was speaking to.
“Don't you talk like that to me, punk!” Peter Simpson's face was turning red in anger, but William didn't care to react or even move for that matter. This of course, caused the officer to step between the two. “Both of you, relax. We need to keep calm and quiet right now until we hear something from the government.”
The officer's radio had been silent for hours now; with no indication if anyone else was alive out there. How much time did they have, holed up in this church? What if the infected broke in? Where could they go? Hell, was the Police Station still safe? Why hadn't he heard anything from any other officers? All these thoughts were going through their minds as the sound of a helicopter broke the argument.
“See?” Peter stated, excited that it was all over. “They're here! We're safe!”
William rolled his eyes, “The helicopter doesn’t sound very close.” A slight breath left William as he crossed his arms, “Looks like it’s going across the river.” He noted as he believed he saw it moving away from this part of downtown and westward.
The officer did his best to stare out the stained glass window and nodded. “They're probably looking for survivors there.”
“Well what about us?" Peter interrupted, confused and angry. "Why aren't they getting us?”
William sighed, shrugging as he caught a mumbling to his left—the sales clerk was finally stirring awake, “Hey, looks like the head trauma patient is coming to.”
Parris City, Above the Datski River – 9:06 PM
“We’re passing over Dakowski Park.” The voice of Tyrone Gibson, the co-pilot for the incoming BSAA helicopter stated loudly over the sound of the whirling helicopter blades. Parris City had been hoping for the arrival of the BSAA, but these guys had not been sent for survivor recovery – rather team investigation, which confused a few members of this particular team of agents.
“Remember, we’re here to reconvene with Alpha Team—they’ve been silent for too long and the situation here has gotten really bad.”
“What about survivors, sir?” The female member of the team, Chéris Allard, inquired as her mind raced to the people of the city.
“That’s Delta’s job, little lady, we need to keep our sight on Alpha Team.” Alex Paulson smiled at the rookie, hefting his BSAA issued G36C assault rifle over his shoulder. He was the Bravo Team leader for this operation; his first time leading one as well. He'd been the point man for Alpha Team for a year, and now they finally moved him to the big leagues. Everything was looking good outside of Alpha Team’s apparent failure and that Bravo Team had been basically assigned to be their support squad, but to Alex Paulson it felt more like “clean up” duty. Eventually, the helicopter touched down in a clearing, and Alex hopped out the door, followed by Tyrone, Marcus, Riley and the Rookie.
“Alright ladies,” he said, hefting the rifle up and scanning the area. “Check your surroundings here, we don't know who decided to take a nice walk in the park and ended up some monster's snack, alright? Let's get this job done!”
“Alpha Team’s last known location was at Burton Memorial Hospital, sir.” Chéris Allard stated, recalling the information relevant to their mission.
“The hospital? Really?” Riley Alcowski groaned.
“High vantage point and a workable helipad. It's basics 101.” Paulson took point, leading them through the forest.
“But...depending on how many patients were infected, they could've been overrun. We can't overlook that.” Paulson added to his previous statement as he speculated how things could have turned for them. Historically with infections like this, Hospitals had turned problematic quickly and had been viral epicenters—Raccoon City was a good example of such.
“What our plan of approach, commander?” Marcus Eisenberg inquired as he trailed behind Tyrone Gibson.
"We stay off the main streets. A direct approach is suicide. The City Arboretum is where Delta is headed, and we'll make our way there too. There's maintenance passage into the sewers, and it's a straight shot to the hospital basement floors from there."
Ultimately after crossing the Datski River, they arrived at a large metal fence which separated the park from the sidewalk of the streets. They could already see fires down the road, and the visages of the undead beyond. “It looks like the mouth of hell down there.” Paulson muttered under his breath whilst Riley simply nodded in reply.
“The Aboretum is in the opposite direction at least, at the edge of the park.” Chéris stated matter-of-factly.
“Right, let’s go.”
The darkness struck the city in the hours since the initial chaos, and the nightfall finally brought a numbness to the frantic violence and chaos of the hours before. St. Albert’s Catholic Church settled in downtown Parris City looked as if the only place of sanctuary to any on-looking survivors from the adjacent Dakowski Park as the sight of the wreckage of a bread truck within the front glass of a restaurant two blocks down illuminated the darkness with the fire that still softly lingered from only an hour prior. Several church pews and various debris had been used to make a makeshift barricade in front of the large wooden doors of the chapel. At least the stone walls of the church kept the incessant groaning of the recently dead outside quiet enough for some to get some rest. There were men and women gathered around the area from different walks of life, obviously due to their clothes. Businessmen, students, nurses, even a woman dressed fairly provocatively for a church. Leaned against a wall was a man whose head was bandaged from one of the survivors in the area: Henry Moore.
The man had been mistaken as an undead earlier; covered in blood and barreling into the church, of course someone smacked him with some sort of stick. And when he didn't get up and start groaning well; it was obvious he wasn't one of the undead. Still, it had been some time and he was still unconscious; that never bode well. One of the survivors, Peter Simpson, was getting anxious and generally impatient. “Just when the hell is the government going to evacuate us! I thought they had special...trained soldiers or something to protect us!”
“Sir, just calm down;” Richard Levitski, the lone police officer amongst the survivors held his hand out apologetically. “The government probably has people on their way now. It just takes time.”
William Robens shuffled his hands in his pockets as he looked over the former sales clerk with an expression of apathy before moving his eyes back to the streets through a small crack in the barricade. The survivors in St. Albert’s was growing in number and that meant a higher chance of being discovered by the infected things outside that were roaming the downtown streets looking for a good meal and the twenty-nine year old former high school teacher found his chances for survival becoming very thin. A cigarette was pressed firmly in-between his lips, but it wasn’t lit at the exact moment. He wasn’t exactly sure if the infected relied on smell or anything.
“Please do scream louder so the infected can hear you, I really do wish to die.” He spat, albeit in a dry monotone with a sense of condescension as his eyes remained peeking through one of the barricaded windows, not even making contact with the person he was speaking to.
“Don't you talk like that to me, punk!” Peter Simpson's face was turning red in anger, but William didn't care to react or even move for that matter. This of course, caused the officer to step between the two. “Both of you, relax. We need to keep calm and quiet right now until we hear something from the government.”
The officer's radio had been silent for hours now; with no indication if anyone else was alive out there. How much time did they have, holed up in this church? What if the infected broke in? Where could they go? Hell, was the Police Station still safe? Why hadn't he heard anything from any other officers? All these thoughts were going through their minds as the sound of a helicopter broke the argument.
“See?” Peter stated, excited that it was all over. “They're here! We're safe!”
William rolled his eyes, “The helicopter doesn’t sound very close.” A slight breath left William as he crossed his arms, “Looks like it’s going across the river.” He noted as he believed he saw it moving away from this part of downtown and westward.
The officer did his best to stare out the stained glass window and nodded. “They're probably looking for survivors there.”
“Well what about us?" Peter interrupted, confused and angry. "Why aren't they getting us?”
William sighed, shrugging as he caught a mumbling to his left—the sales clerk was finally stirring awake, “Hey, looks like the head trauma patient is coming to.”
Parris City, Above the Datski River – 9:06 PM
“We’re passing over Dakowski Park.” The voice of Tyrone Gibson, the co-pilot for the incoming BSAA helicopter stated loudly over the sound of the whirling helicopter blades. Parris City had been hoping for the arrival of the BSAA, but these guys had not been sent for survivor recovery – rather team investigation, which confused a few members of this particular team of agents.
“Remember, we’re here to reconvene with Alpha Team—they’ve been silent for too long and the situation here has gotten really bad.”
“What about survivors, sir?” The female member of the team, Chéris Allard, inquired as her mind raced to the people of the city.
“That’s Delta’s job, little lady, we need to keep our sight on Alpha Team.” Alex Paulson smiled at the rookie, hefting his BSAA issued G36C assault rifle over his shoulder. He was the Bravo Team leader for this operation; his first time leading one as well. He'd been the point man for Alpha Team for a year, and now they finally moved him to the big leagues. Everything was looking good outside of Alpha Team’s apparent failure and that Bravo Team had been basically assigned to be their support squad, but to Alex Paulson it felt more like “clean up” duty. Eventually, the helicopter touched down in a clearing, and Alex hopped out the door, followed by Tyrone, Marcus, Riley and the Rookie.
“Alright ladies,” he said, hefting the rifle up and scanning the area. “Check your surroundings here, we don't know who decided to take a nice walk in the park and ended up some monster's snack, alright? Let's get this job done!”
“Alpha Team’s last known location was at Burton Memorial Hospital, sir.” Chéris Allard stated, recalling the information relevant to their mission.
“The hospital? Really?” Riley Alcowski groaned.
“High vantage point and a workable helipad. It's basics 101.” Paulson took point, leading them through the forest.
“But...depending on how many patients were infected, they could've been overrun. We can't overlook that.” Paulson added to his previous statement as he speculated how things could have turned for them. Historically with infections like this, Hospitals had turned problematic quickly and had been viral epicenters—Raccoon City was a good example of such.
“What our plan of approach, commander?” Marcus Eisenberg inquired as he trailed behind Tyrone Gibson.
"We stay off the main streets. A direct approach is suicide. The City Arboretum is where Delta is headed, and we'll make our way there too. There's maintenance passage into the sewers, and it's a straight shot to the hospital basement floors from there."
Ultimately after crossing the Datski River, they arrived at a large metal fence which separated the park from the sidewalk of the streets. They could already see fires down the road, and the visages of the undead beyond. “It looks like the mouth of hell down there.” Paulson muttered under his breath whilst Riley simply nodded in reply.
“The Aboretum is in the opposite direction at least, at the edge of the park.” Chéris stated matter-of-factly.
“Right, let’s go.”
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