deegee

Absolom

Still looking for players! Bring your friends! Send your enemies!

Absolom

Yeah -- my online RP experience is mostly based on other sites. I'm new here too. I have a couple of friends here, and they've said they want in @Lady of Lore... but there's been life issues preventing posts.

Infectious: Zone B Archives

Post up!

Infectious: Zone B Archives

Fleas

Five days west of Raleigh...

---

He had woken. That much was certain. The canteen was dry. The rations were gone. It made getting a start to the day easier. Nothing to slow you down. Just get up, and walk. No need to take time to eat and drink. This is what he told himself. He was on the move by sunup. He tried to compile a mental list of other positives that he could be thankful for. The hole in the sole of his right boot kept him on alert. The lack of supplies in his pack kept it lighter to carry. The nearly-empty magazine in his rifle likewise made for a lighter load, and made certain he was choosing his shots carefully. The ache in his stomach kept him sharp. On the edge. Where he needed to be.

He followed the highway. Not on it. Too many wrecks, too many shufflers. No, he stayed clear of the 587, instead walking within fifty yards of it, currently on the South side, flanking the road. This area hadn't been too heavily populated, but ahead he could smell the decay, the incessant smell of a place humanity had once been, and had left, as if swept clean. In the times before, nobody ever thought what the smell of a thousand homes with broken windows and rotten drywall would be like. Nobody ever realized how badly the death of a nation would fucking stink.

There was a cluster of houses ahead. He stopped, a hundred yards away, and consulted his old AAA map. Maybe the outskirts of Bailey. He could avoid it by crossing to the North side of the 587, but there were rotters. A few, but (checking the load in his M1) more than the three rounds he was packing would allow. Skirting the community to the South would take a day, to move safely. And he could use supplies... decision made. He moved off, into the outskirts of Bailey, NC.

It had to be the right house. Nothing that had been obviously looted. Nothing with the Govvie spray can markings on the door from all those years ago (1/3 was common. Sometimes as high as 4/8.) He shuddered. The first number indicated number of infected, second number was number dead. Usually these were sprayed by local police in the first days of the fever. Later, as the systems collapsed, some govvie s&d teams kept up the practice. Wasn't tough to see which of the markings were old, and which were newer.

He walked on for an hour, maybe an hour and a quarter. Finally, he spied the right house. It was set back, off the muddy street. Surrounded by a large yard, and a fence about four feet tall. There was no obvious signs of looting, only deterioration over time. And the front door had no Govvie markings. Either the place had been empty when the world died, or nobody had ever checked inside. Either way, it was the best candidate he had seen all day.

What was that? Sound. Not shufflers. Distant. Moving this way? He found cover, behind a crumbled wall at the side of the road. Definitely coming closer. Whoever -- whatever it was, it was moving carefully. Taking time to avoid making noise...

@MenageAUne

Absolom

Hoping to get a few more PC's before I create the IC.

Anybody got questions? Anyone they want to pull into this RP?

Absolom

NPC Character sheet -- Outsiders' Camp leader.

Norrix Killian

Name: Norrix Killian
Age: 32
Gender: male
Appearance:

"Certifiable"

Norrix Killian stands 6'3", 200 lbs. He is muscled, but gaunt. His features are rat-like and elongated. He can be cold and calculating when he can hold it together, but a loss of control for Norrix means some truly fearsome, unpredictable, brutal violence, toward anyone and everyone. He once had full-sleeve tattoos (he doesn't remember the subject-matter) but they have been obscured by gruesome burn scarring, giving his arms and shoulders a wasted, skin-grafted, stretched look (years of drug abuse and arson gone wrong.) The remains of a tattoo of tears, strung together as a necklace, can be seen if you're unlucky enough to be that close to him, as well as the number '118' on his forearm. Killian has only about eight teeth left in his face, but those that remain have been sharpened to points, and he does not hesitate to use them as a weapon. When the mood strikes him, he indulges in a spot of cannibalism. Need to know anything else?
Background / Hometown: Norris Killian was born in Lindsay, Ontario, Canada (pop. 19,000.) When he left (in the back of a prisoner transfer vehicle) 19 years later, he had killed 16 of his fellow townspeople. Mostly women and trans youth. In his freshman year at high school, a school typo had incorrectly enrolled him as 'Norrix,' and it stuck. Killian has no living relatives. He killed his parents in their bed, and his sister in the shower. Never a gang member, or a joiner of any kind, Norrix is a mass murderer. He was sent to a Max-2 prison, where the powers-that-be imagined the inmates would take care of him in short order, due to the nature of his crimes, but he killed (often brutally) every inmate who made attempts on his life. He embraced prison life, bulking up and establishing himself as an enforcer, meting out prison-style justice to whoever could afford him, while having no regard for his term, lengthening it obscenely as he moved from jail to jail.
Personality: Unpredictable, chaotic, sociopathic, violent. Norrix is a double-Y offender, a lifelong head full of bad wiring. Unfortunately, he can also be calculating, show restraint, and has seemingly endless patience. (to wit: he had decided at some point to rape and murder a woman he knew. He took his time to get to know her via her job at a local grocery store, befriended her, and carried on a friendly relationship with her for three years before brutally stabbing her to death in a movie theatre bathroom. All planned.) He cares only for himself, and his warped version of reality, in which Absolom now plays a central role. He sees it as a paradise.
Skills: There have been many leaders of the Outsiders' camp. They tend not to last very long, and whoever is in charge tends to be the most savage, the most brutal, the strongest, the craziest, the one who will do what the others won't, and keeps everyone looking over their shoulder, and sleeping with one eye open. Norrix has been the defect leader for nine months now. Says something about him, huh?
Motivation: Kill 'em all.
Gear: Norrix brought nothing with him from Moreton F12, and still wears the remnants of his prison uniform to this day (now mostly rags.)

Absolom

@Xandrya great updates! Still leaves plenty to explore in-character. Feel free to post Liv in the Characters section.

D

Absolom

NPC Character sheet -- Outsiders' Camp leader.

Norrix Killian

Name: Norrix Killian
Age: 32
Gender: male
Appearance:

"Certifiable"

Norrix Killian stands 6'3", 200 lbs. He is muscled, but gaunt. His features are rat-like and elongated. He can be cold and calculating when he can hold it together, but a loss of control for Norrix means some truly fearsome, unpredictable, brutal violence, toward anyone and everyone. He once had full-sleeve tattoos (he doesn't remember the subject-matter) but they have been obscured by gruesome burn scarring, giving his arms and shoulders a wasted, skin-grafted, stretched look (years of drug abuse and arson gone wrong.) The remains of a tattoo of tears, strung together as a necklace, can be seen if you're unlucky enough to be that close to him, as well as the number '118' on his forearm. Killian has only about eight teeth left in his face, but those that remain have been sharpened to points, and he does not hesitate to use them as a weapon. When the mood strikes him, he indulges in a spot of cannibalism. Need to know anything else?
Background / Hometown: Norris Killian was born in Lindsay, Ontario, Canada (pop. 19,000.) When he left (in the back of a prisoner transfer vehicle) 19 years later, he had killed 16 of his fellow townspeople. Mostly women and trans youth. In his freshman year at high school, a school typo had incorrectly enrolled him as 'Norrix,' and it stuck. Killian has no living relatives. He killed his parents in their bed, and his sister in the shower. Never a gang member, or a joiner of any kind, Norrix is a mass murderer. He was sent to a Max-2 prison, where the powers-that-be imagined the inmates would take care of him in short order, due to the nature of his crimes, but he killed (often brutally) every inmate who made attempts on his life. He embraced prison life, bulking up and establishing himself as an enforcer, meting out prison-style justice to whoever could afford him, while having no regard for his term, lengthening it obscenely as he moved from jail to jail.
Personality: Unpredictable, chaotic, sociopathic, violent. Norrix is a double-Y offender, a lifelong head full of bad wiring. Unfortunately, he can also be calculating, show restraint, and has seemingly endless patience. (to wit: he had decided at some point to rape and murder a woman he knew. He took his time to get to know her via her job at a local grocery store, befriended her, and carried on a friendly relationship with her for three years before brutally stabbing her to death in a movie theatre bathroom. All planned.) He cares only for himself, and his warped version of reality, in which Absolom now plays a central role. He sees it as a paradise.
Skills: There have been many leaders of the Outsiders' camp. They tend not to last very long, and whoever is in charge tends to be the most savage, the most brutal, the strongest, the craziest, the one who will do what the others won't, and keeps everyone looking over their shoulder, and sleeping with one eye open. Norrix has been the defect leader for nine months now. Says something about him, huh?
Motivation: Kill 'em all.
Gear: Norrix brought nothing with him from Moreton F12, and still wears the remnants of his prison uniform to this day (now mostly rags.)

Infectious: Zone B Archives

'Fleas'

Name: Geoff 'Fleas' Wickwyr
Appearance:

'Fleas'

Age: "Twenty-five? No, Twenty-four." (15 at the time of the Infection -ed.)
Gender: male
Class: Loner
Occupation: "worked at a few stupid jobs before... you know. Fucking dish washer... changed tires and did oil changes at a local auto shop. Did 'landscaping' one summer, fuck ever that means. Occupation now? **blank, vaguely murderous stare**
Personality: (I have spent a little over four days in Geoff's company, during which time he has never once spoken without being spoken to. Twice in that time, if I dared speak at a moment he didn't expressly deem 'safe-safe,' he has come close, in my opinion, to killing me. His level of paranoia in anything approaching a 'social' situation -- conversation, food preparation, travel, the minutiae of existence -- is off the charts. I suspect he suffers from several affective disorders, as well as being on the OCD spectrum. As a survivalist and scavenger, his methodology is as finely crafted as any I have seen. As guide, he is deadly-proficient, if aloof and detached. How he has survived out here is anybody's best guess. He won't discuss it. Not with me at least. On my second day with Geoff, we met a group of Greasers, and his interactions with that group were as brief and as cold as any I have witnessed. He had been tasked with getting me from Brunswick, to just outside Jacksonville, and after seeing him dispatch a small group of Lurkers, I have every faith that he will do it. I only hope I can glean more about his life before I am safely delivered. -ed.)

Background: (Geoff mentioned that he was from just outside Norfolk, originally. Mentioned that his father was in the service. I have been unsuccessful in getting information on his past, and about most events from prior to the Infection, save this: he had a girlfriend, once -- Jessi. He mentions her with some regularity, and occasionally talks to himself, as if he is speaking to her. I pressed him about his past once, after he had spoken about Jessi, and he held a knife to my throat. I thought I had breathed my last. -ed.)

Goal: "Live. Fuck you think?" (Find Jessi -ed.)
Equipment: (Geoff carries a backpack with, it would seem, everything his stripped-down version of 'life' requires. It is truly not a lot. I have seen thread and needle, a compass, a pill bottle of some sort, some sort of thick black cord, several pieces of cloth of varying sizes -- one of which contains a whetstone and oil. He will not let anyone touch his pack.)
Weapons: (Geoff carries a rifle I was unfamiliar with, prior to asking him about it -- thankfully one of the few subjects he was content to discuss. It is an M1 carbine, with a folding 'paratroop' stock. He also carries a pistol and a folding knife. There may be more in the bag... but I was not allowed to look. -ed.)
Skills: "Land Nav. Survival. Pickin'. (scavenging -ed.) Lurkers. Know about 'em. Map readin'. Some mechanics. Guns. Tactics. Some cookin'."
Family: deceased.

The partial transcript of Marsha Heburn's (the 'editor') time living amongst 'Loners' was discovered outside Savannah, in a pile of bloody rags. It is estimated the manuscript had been there two years when it was discovered by Government forces 11/8/28

Infectious: Zone B Archives

Looks like I'm up! Will work on a post today.

-deegee