LordofthePies

The Burning of Volstryggr

A Bloody Mess

Anywho, IC is now up.

A Bloody Mess

Well, a woodchuck can't chuck wood, but if a woodchuck could chuck wood, a woodchuck would chuck about 700 pounds (320 kg) of wood on a good day.

<Snipped quote by LordofthePies>
How much wood COULD a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck woOOd?

@MissCapnCrunch

A Bloody Mess

March 5th, 2005

It's been a couple months, and everything's fucked. There's no government anymore, which means no rules. It also means there's nothing taking care of us. No grocery stores giving out food, no electricity or water pumped straight into your homes. Everything has to be done manually or not at all. There's no jobs to go to, no family to come home to. It's dog eat dog, and everything is so fucked.

Those were Bishops thoughts as he hid in a rundown bus. He was laying under a torn blue seat. He came in looking for supplies, or anything that might've been left. A diseased dog scratched at the bus door. His worst nightmare knew he was there. He barely had time to close the bus doors before it got in, literally snipping at his heels. When it thumped against the door he had to prevent himself from squeaking out of fear. Bishop could barely breathe.

Maybe it'll get bored and go away. Maybe it'll forget I'm in here. Bishop's dirty hands covered his mouth. He pressed his hands into his face, doing everything he could to try not to scream. His eyes were closed tight as he listened to the dog slamming it's decaying body against the door. Bits of skin and blood covered the places where the dog continued to hit. The thing was really trying. The damn things would do anything to get a meal, even turn themselves to paste if it meant getting into something.

Bishop was in New York, scrounging around one of the housing districts. He should've stayed inside of his safe house. It didn't matter that he was hungry. If he would have stayed, he wouldn't be in this mess.

The dog continued slamming it's body against the bus, causing the vehicle to rock with every slam. Bishop was crying, his hot tears making their way down to the filthy bus floor. He couldn't help but think that the monstrosity outside would soon break the door, find him, and rip him to shreds. If only one of the thousands of citizens of New York were alive to help him.

@Remipa Awesome @Traps @MissCapnCrunch

A Bloody Mess

Okay, getting some things out of the way.

The "virus" is a blood borne disease that can also affect animals. The only ways it'll get you is through the fluids of an infected person (Blood, spit, etc.) To kill the "infected" stop them from being able to move. (I.E., kill the brain, cut their legs off, etc.)

This will be table top in one sense. I will roll to see if any attacks, skill checks, or actions fail or work. Chances depend on what you're good or bad at. If you aren't good or bad, you have a normal 50%. If you're bad, it's 25% for success. If you're good, it's 75%.

Can't stress this enough.
ASK before doing anything important.
- Time skips
- Fast travel
- Killing a player or NPC
- Controlling an NPC
- Enviroment changes (Like saying the building is blue when it was stated previously that it was brown)

If you're unsure of ANYTHING, ask

First IC post will go up in either a couple minutes or hours.

If there are any questions, now or later, don't be afraid to ask.

Now, let's get started.

A Bloody Mess

Name:
Bishop King

Appearance:

[+]

Age:
17

Birth State:
New York, born and raised.

Family members:
Bishop no longer has anyone that's alive that he considers family.

Role/Occupation:
Dumpster Diver

Starting Fortune:
20 Dollars
Kitchen Knife
Pistol with 12 bullets
A picture of his brother

Strengths:
Foraging
Knife work
Hiding

Weaknesses:
Can't shoot. "Why do I even carry a gun?"
Doesn't work well with others
Has a soft spot for children

Greatest Fear:
Dogs. He doesn't know what it is, but his is terrified of dogs.

Background/History:
His mother died a few weeks after giving birth to his younger brother. His father had a difficult time paying for the family and ended up marrying a rich widow, who later killed his brother in a car "accident". Upset with his father for not divorcing the woman after she had been sent to prison for vehicular manslaughter, he ran away from home at age seven. He avoided heavily populated places, trying desperately to avoid his father, afraid that both parents would hate him and he would have a fate similar to his brother's. He lived off of dumpster scraps and the occasional squirrel, but never complained about his meal or his hole filled shoes. He was always foraging, whether it was for shoes or a meal.

The Patron Saints || A Unique Superhero RP

I suggest setting up where you are. Paint us a picture of where the character is, what everything looks like. Where in town do you live? Is it raining? What color is your house, what are you doing? Another thing you could do is say you're working the might shift. I could lead my character there and ask you for a pair of scissors.

@Xandrya

[Hollow Earth Aftermath] Urban Creatures: Contracts (Died of Natural Causes)

I finally posted xD

[Hollow Earth Aftermath] Urban Creatures: Contracts (Died of Natural Causes)

Nov 1, 2017 - the Serpent's Lair - 12:50 PM

Ronan leaned back in his chair, feet up on the table. He was rubbing the chin of one of the cats that often came into the bar. He had just witnessed a bundle of incidents. After the first, Ronan chuckled to himself. Magnus truly believed he would live. He would, just not for long.

Ronan still had an eye on his target, the cat getting upset on the few occasions where he stopped petting it. Ronan didn't know what Magnus did, but, like the board said, he clearly pissed some people off. Maybe, instead of killing him, he should tell him how to not be a complete ass. That is, if Magnus would listen.

Ronan moved the cat onto his lap and he sat normally, ready to dig into the meat pie he had ordered. That was, until the sound of Magnus's head slapping a table startled the cat and drew his attention. A very shady man, one even more questionable than Ronan was, had smacked Magnus's head against the table. The only place he recognized the man was from earlier, he was the guy that threw money at the beggars. Ronan figured this guy was a menace, and should probably leave him and anyone he deals with alone. He had to kill Magnus though. He accepted a contract and wouldn't, no he couldn't, go back on that. Even if he promised a message board, he still wouldn't go back on it.

Ronan's hand went into his pocket as he eyed Magnus's drink. Even after being assaulted twice, the man didn't budge from his spot. He even ordered a replacement drink, since his original fell onto the ground. It was time to go in. Ronan took one of his groceries out of his pocket and read the label. It was a bottle of pure, liquid zinc phosphide. He'd pour the whole damn bottle into Magnus's drink. It would either kill him or make him very sick. Either way, it would lead to something Ronan wanted. The only downside was that after Magnus drank it, it might take days or weeks for the effects to show. If the Devil said he wouldn't die today, Ronan hoped it would be tomorrow.

Ronan asked for his meal to be put in a bag. After poisoning the son of a bitch, he was going to head home and start working on his stew. He didn't want to be caught up in the mess that would come after.

Ronan walked over to Magnus, sliding the poison back into his pocket. He undid the lid as he spoke, leaning onto the table where the replacement drink was.

"Hey man, you alright? Not really your day, is it?"

"Not really, but I'm still alive."

"That's right, you're not going to die today right? Not according to that fancy dish." Ronan pointed to what was left of the Devil's Taste. It was sitting on the floor. Ronan's sister would've described it as sad, and Ronan agreed. It was sitting there, deflated. If it were alive, it would not be happy.

Magnus laughed, looking at the sad dish on the floor. "Let's just hope it's right!"

While Magnus was looking at the revolting blob on the floor, Ronan slipped the poison into his drink. It wasn't as quiet as Ronan would've liked, but the chatter around them was enough to distract.

Ronan gave Magnus a pat on the back, "Good luck to you man, hopefully you won't get assaulted a third time today."

Ronan grabbed the bag that held his meat pie and walked out the door, a smirk on his face. Sure, he wouldn't die today, but he would be eventually. His next hit was the girl, but he didn't want to do that one today. Ronan wouldn't kill her, he'd just silence her. Whether that meant fixing whatever was bothering her or some other means, he didn't know yet.

Ronan sat down in the park closest to the Serpent's Lair. He pulled out his meat pie. It wasn't crushed, nor was it flakey. He could eat it like a large cookie. Ronan held it in his hands while he ate it. As soon as the flavor of it hit his tongue, he smiled. Hopefully today would be as easy as pouring a vial of poison into a drink.

HALT! The not so glorius life of the City Guard.

@Me when we actually get the ball rolling.