Mao Mao

World of Light

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𝗥𝗼𝗮𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗴

_{level two // scrapyard - end // 247 words
Mentioned: @Stern Algorithm}

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Roadhog didn't believe what he witnessed on the battlefield as the creature torn the Bastion apart. He didn't know what the fuck happened or wanted to know, since it helped secure victory. Now that the battle was over, Roadhog got out of cover and looked around to see some of the people got wounded. Especially the cowboy. He was foolish for charging at the Bastion without a single care in the world and he paid for that. Bastion was a difficult machine to face whenever Overwatch bought it along during missions. But, Roadhog learned how to defeat it after a painful lesson. Even the hogdrogen wasn't enough to heal the wounds until Moria "upgraded" it. Speaking of which, he went to check if the container was still empty since there wasn't any way of refilling it. Then, he saw it was already filled.

It wasn't possible. That container should have remained empty since he used it earlier. Suddenly, Roadhog heard his "nickname" being mentioned regarding getting his "senses back." He had enough waiting around and wanted answers now. Naturally, Roadhog walked towards the woman with determination to get answers. He was annoyed that he barely knew what the hell was going. He didn't know who or what was Galeem. He didn't know what happened that made him lose his "senses." And he planned on getting his questions answered even if it meant getting violent.

"I am sick and tired of waiting for answers." Roadhog said angrily while walking and still holding his shotgun. "I want to know what the fuck is going on? Who is Galeem? What are souls? Where am I? And why am I here?"

"And you." Roadhog pointed at the woman that talked to him earlier. "What do you mean that I lost my 'senses.' Answer me or else."

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World of Light

Well, shit. So many wounded. Only if there was something to fix that. lol

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

I am sorry but we are full, @officaz.

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

Well, the concept of zombies doesn't exist in this world. Romero never existed, The Last of Us was never made, and World War Z wasn't published. The zombie pop culture never existed to begin with. Hopefully, it helps answer your question @Andreyich.

Post Removal

Can you remove this please?

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

Basically what Euphonium said, @Andreyich.

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

@Inkarnate, @Andreyich, @DruSM157, @Firecracker_, @Symphoni, @Bea, @Skelm, and @StarLordess. Alright, the ooc and ic has been posted. And I want to say that I and my Co-GM will be controlling how this virus spreads since we have an idea on how it will play out.

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

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Jake Elliott

Jake Elliott grew up in Colorado in a lovely foster family after his mother lost her battle with cancer and his father disappeared. Jack eventually felt like his foster family was his actual family. He was fairly popular in school and even made a few friends along the way. His love for photography earned him a place as a respected wedding photographer. And after getting his degree in photojournalism, he was hired by the Denver Post as their newspaper photographer.

But, it only lasted a few years before he decided to quit and moved to Washington. Jack grew tired of working on a deadline and wanted more freedom in his life. His friends and family supported his decision and the big move to Baltham. After settling into his new apartment, he found work as a simple clerk in a small thrift store in the historic downtown. As for his photography work, he got some work that paid decently enough that he could save it. So far, however, life is going good.

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Physical Traits
Jack is a British-American man that was originally born in New York City. He’s the shortest person in his family with his 5’5 height and he can be often mistaken as a teenager. Despite his small height, he only weighs around 136.3 lb. That’s because he would often go on a run each morning and go to the gym if he isn’t working on his job. He got his mother’s hazel eyes and his father’s black hair. Often enough, he would most wear dark color clothes. He doesn’t go anywhere without his jacket no matter the weather. He also takes his beanie with him as well. He only wears jeans and casual t-shirts to places besides work. At work, he wears a white collared t-shirt with decent-looking pants and Converse shoes. In addition, he wears the store’s dark blue apron.

Full Name
Jake Raquel Elliott

Gender
Male

Ethnicity
Caucasian

Sexuality
Homosexual

Age
Thirty

Motives
Elliott is always looking for the groundbreaking story of the year ever since going independent from the mainstream. Being a freelancer isn't the best paying job and he had to make several sacrifices like moving away from Colorado and leaving his friends behind. But he does get to do what makes him happy which is photography.

Occupation
Freelance Photographer
Clerk

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⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

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"Holy shit."

"What?" Jake Elliott asked his boss, Bradley Doyle, while finishing the french fries that he brought from the nearby McDonald's during his break. Doyle was a tough boss that kept his short staff in line, but he had a kind heart towards his community. It was the reason why he kept the Goodwill running for twenty-four years with his older son, Wyatt Doyle. Jake entered Doyle's office and found him watching the news on the small tv that he brought used about a year before Elliott came to work here. It was on the news and showing footage of a deadly shooting in a nice looking neighborhood.

"There was a shooting nearby. Two dead and two wounded." Doyle explained to Elliott.

Elliott threw the ironic red fries container away and looked at the screen, trying to listen to what the reporter was saying. Apparently, information regarding the victims is being kept secret until the families are notified and footage of the incident was too graphic to show. That was when his phone went off in his pocket and Elliott went to check. He unlocked it and found a twitter notification regarding an old friend from Denver mentioning him. It was a video of the incident and Elliott hesitated clicking on it until Doyle wondered what the noise was.

"Oh, a friend sent me the video of the shooting." Elliott answered.

"Show it to me."

He handed the phone over to Doyle and stood behind him so Elliott was able to watch the footage. It started off while the two officers rushing towards the man and woman. The woman was still fighting the man, despite being beaten up with a baton and another officer trying to arrest her. Suddenly, she tackled the officer and started fighting him. Then, another man exited out of the house and made his way towards the other officer. After a close call, the officer quickly retreated before two more pulled out their guns and aimed at the woman and man. The officers fired several shots that caused the person filming to run away in panic; however, he managed to capture a bit more footage.

The last few seconds showed the woman still walking towards the officers and then the video ended. Doyle let out another "holy shit" and looked at Elliott to see his reaction to the whole thing. He looked like he was going to throw his lunch up because of the video.

"Goddamn." Elliott said while trying not to throw up. "I wished that I didn't see that video after all."

"You and me both." Doyle agreed and looked up at the clock. It was one o'clock and it meant that it was working time. He got up from his comfortable chair, handed the phone back to Elliott, and said, "I suppose we will get an explanation of the whole thing later. Until then, lets try to clean our minds of that video and get back to work."

"Yes, sir." Elliott lightheartedly saluted while walking back to the counter. Now, it was a matter of waiting until work ended at four o'clock.

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