QT

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Casey Guidry - Road - Molly @Weeping Raven

- Before -

"You need to forgive yourself of your sins. In this world they'll chew you up and spit you out. You've been away for a while and haven't seen this world change, but I'll prepare you for what's to come don't worry. Look, see that one up here, you have to aim for its head, no other way to kill them. Swords like these are swift and silent, they don't attract others so they're your best bet. Silence is key. You never want to find yourself surrounded by them, they may seem weak and fragile on their own but in a crowd there's no escape," Ray explained, whistling to attract the attention of a lone walker up ahead. The beast turned on call and followed command like a leashed dog. It moaned through its teeth, face disfigured entirely from its transformation. Its shoulders rocked side to side with every step, tumbling forward uncontrollably in hopes to catch its prey. Ray moved forward, took a distractive step to the right and twisted at the hips leftward to slash through the walker's skull like a samurai. The top of the monster's head went airborne as the rest of its body plummeted to the pavement like a stringless puppet.

Ray turned to Casey with a smirk. "Like that," he said blissfully - all while cleaning his sword on the victim's clothing scraps. Casey brought his baseball bat down, no longer threatened by the deadman. "How long does it take people to turn once infected?" he asked Ray, hovering over the stillness of their target. It was unbelievable to think a simple disease - something that started off as just a cold - turned people into these hideous mindless creatures. It was like living in a fictional world and still very new to Casey - a reason his gratitude towards Ray could never be repaid. The man had opened his home to him despite the knowledge of Casey's story. The man lived by virtues that many never possessed.

"It varies. Some turn immediately after being infected, others can take up to a week. I mean, I haven't seen many personally, but that's what they were saying on television before they stopped broadcasting. I've tried to help as many people as I could, but sometimes it isn't enough. There's no cure Casey, so whatever you do don't get bit."

- Now -

It was difficult to hide the smirk on Casey's face when the girl countered with an insult. Humanity was not doomed after all, people still had humor apparently. Cautiously, Casey placed his handgun at the back of his belt-line. Using his jacket he hid the handle while moving into clear view and away from his vehicle. Showing the girl he meant no harm, he raised both his hands and shrugged - trying to convince her he was unarmed. "Look, I'm heading twenty more miles down this road. I can drive you to wherever you need to go if you want the lift. You just need to put your weapons down first, deal?" he proposed.

He had zero intention of harming the girl, just wanted to lend her a ride if she needed it. He understood this new world and a girl like that would not last on her own for very long. Sooner or later someone would find her and use her to fulfill their needs. It was a horrific thought, but one vindicated by reality. It was great to think all men were created equal and under the image of their creator, but they were filled with iniquity. It was as though the devil himself collaborated with his enemy to make the perfect wildcard.

"I'm going to see my parents. I'm sure they have food, water and shelter. I'm sure they can spare some and help you, I know it's hard out here for most," he added, trying to convince her to join his little crusade into town.

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

@Belle, is there a CS for NPC characters like in the previous threads?

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Casey Guidry - Road - Molly (@Weeping Raven]

- Before -

With steel binding his wrist and ankles, a guard guided Casey to the visitation room. Other inmates sat at their respective stalls, speaking through wired phones as though they lived in the stone ages. It had been roughly a month since he had last made contact with anyone from the outside world, just now getting said privileges reinstated. He was then seated in a booth, awaiting the arrival of his father who had scheduled visitation. Physically distraught, Casey's father gasped at the sight of what had come of his son. The old man's nerves kicked his arthritis on like a light switch. The poor soul had to use both his hands to hold the phone steady enough to speak through - signaling his son to please pick up communication on the other end.

Casey reached for the phone, staring through the glass shield as though glimpsing at his future self - Casey being identical to his father. Nevertheless, he didn't speak, just held the phone to his ear in silence as to retaliate his absence. He didn't have much to say, the things going on on the inside were too cruel for civilian ears - especially those bound by blood. He didn't want to worry them, but the cuts and bruises on his face and arms would project otherwise. It was a tough pill to swallow but there was not much of a choice. "Hey son..." his father started, voice lacking the confidence it once had. "...How have you been?" he followed in question.

"I'm okay dad. How is mom?" Casey returned, trying to sway the conversation away from his current status. Why was this the first time he visited?

"She's well. She's doing real good son. Still playing Bingo on the weekends with the gang, you know your mom," his father answered, giving Casey false optimism - a presentation camouflaging pain with humor. It was clear how much Casey's actions had affected his family. His mother refused to visit despite having every chance to and his father just now managed to get the lawyer to to re-negotiate for those benefits. It was as though they were done with him.

"And Elizabeth?"

A sudden stillness froze the old man. He had been unprepared for the inevitable question despite the months he had to make ready. He scratched his cheek, avoiding eye contact as he gathered his thoughts - brain waves shocking him to answer. He gulped noticeably, licking his bottom lip as his red eyes turned back to his son. "Look Casey. Elizabeth...she..."

"Just tell me dad."

"She doesn't want to see you son. She's not coming...ever. She's moved on. You have to let her go."

- Now -

The lights flickered off as the figure ahead waved in his direction. Casey continued to monitor his surroundings, turning his attention to each side mirror and the rear-view. Nothing was happening, stillness and silence alone did not warrant malice actions or ill intent - but the whole situation still caused uneasiness. That as it may, the distance between the individuals made it difficult to scan the girl for weapons or items of value . Regardless of her actions, one person would not get in the way of his destination, so onward.

Slowly, Casey started to shorten the distance between the two, driving under five miles per hour with a pistol clutched in his right hand. As the car rolled down the road, Casey reached a distance which gave a face to the figure. She was young, pale, brunette and slim. Teenage years at most, probably right out of high school Casey guessed. He stopped the car and parked maybe twenty feet away, staring through the glass that separated them. Again he glanced at all the mirrors, turning in every direction to see if there was anyone else around - no one.

Pulling the emergency brake, Casey opened the car door and stepped out of the vehicle. He hid the gun behind the door frame to not disclose his trump card. "Are you alone?!" he asked loud enough for her to hear over the running engine. "You look too young to be out here all alone..." he added, trying to catch her off guard with statements that answered his own questions. Casey was not a psychological genius or therapeutic expert that could dissect lies or truths, but he had been locked away with enough liars to know the gestures of deception and those of candor. The cards were on her table now.

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Casey Guidry - Road - Interactions: Molly(@Weeping Raven)

- Before -
The shrieks of men echoed through the prison chambers as guards and escapees rushed towards the exit gates. Casey was locked inside his cell, pounding on the bars for someone to release him. His cellmate sat on the lower bunk behind him, praying to a false God that had yet to head his requests. Fires raged around them, bodies moving unnaturally through ember - as though unscathed by the burning blaze. Casey extended his arm through the bars, grasping at the passing bodies in hopes of getting someones attention. Reaching, he managed to get his hands on a gray jumpsuit, pulling the collar closer to the cell doors and locking both arms around the individual's neck. "Get me out of here now!" he demanded from the choking man who clawed at Casey's forearms.

"--I--cant--" slipped through his twisting thyroid, trying to tug his body away from the neck crank.

"Over there! Get me that key!" Casey cried out, squeezing the man's neck even tighter as he signaled to the fallen guard nearby. There was no guarantee that upon letting him go the inmate would head his commands, but how else would he manage to escape? Trusting, he let the man go but to no avail. As soon as he eased his grasp the prisoner pushed off and rushed away with the crowd. "Fuck! What the hell is going on!" he started, losing his sense of patience to the brewing fear that ensued inside him. Was he going to die in prison after everything he'd gone through? He only had a couple of weeks left after all. It was during his internal crisis that the lock behind him opened. Casey turned around swiftly and noticed a guard gesturing him to make haste and exit the cell. "Cmon!"

The second Casey stepped out of his cell the guard was tackled by an inmate. Casey turned to help, but noticed the prisoner had started chomping on the guard's neck - blood squirting in all directions and puddling underneath him. Casey's ability to act willingly froze. He found himself backpedaling frantically, unable to rationalize what his eyes were allowing him to witness. Moving backwards he tripped, falling on his ass over the seizing body of another fallen guard. The guard shook on the floor, neck glitching as his body seemed to reanimate from a long sleep. The man's guts were spilling from his stomach, a large open laceration one could not survive from - but this guard did. Casey rushed back to his feet, reaching forward carefully to strip the guard from his pistol. He continued to backpedal towards the exit with everyone else - eyes still locked on the guard who sat himself back up from an impossible injury. The guard forced himself back to his feet through sheer will it seemed. He had trouble balancing, swaying left and right like a pendulum as he walked. His steps dragged, but his crumbled fingers articulated wildly. Before he managed to escape the prison Casey witnessed the guard attack an inmate face first, bitting the shoulder of the prisoner and taking him to the ground.

- Now -

Driving through the isolation that was once the sunshine state, Casey found himself competent in this new world. It took him years to learn and understand the rules on the inside and in the last three weeks he's realized those rules now applied on the outside. People were no longer people, they were the remnants of what humanity once was - comparable to the loss of hope inmates experienced on a daily basis. Carcasses roamed the streets, possessing only the ability to see, hear, move and eat. They lacked thought and understanding, similar to a lot of the scumbags that filled the walls of the state prison. The ones that remained - those that were still 'human' - were ruined, living only to survive as though imprisoned by their own fear. The world inside mirrored the world outside now and Casey had all the necessary skills to survive. It was disheartening to know life ended the moment he was sentenced and his dreams of freedom where now obsolete.

Now miles from the state prison, Casey managed to change his attire to something more comfortable and presentable - despite the lack of real interaction in the past few days. He hadn't been able to reach home just yet - his current destination - but found an empty store with enough clothes to satisfy. He wore a black t-shirt covered by a denim jacket, some dark jeans and brown work boots - exemplifying normality and ditching the gray overalls bearing his inmate number. Trailing down the two lane road, green flashed through the windows on each side. It was nice to see the trees were still green - probably even greener and full of life than ever before. Casey squinted at the sight of a lone walker up ahead on the roadside. He gently released the accelerator, slowing down as he swerved the Taurus around the wild thing. It's arm was hanging on by dear life, skin stretched out just enough to keep it on. It's face resembled that of the old man from Star Wars, the ugly evil one. However, it was always the eyes that were distinct from anything before. It was those cloudy, soulless eyes that tore into your flesh even before physical contact. It was a fearful sight to behold.

The car drew its attention, but was out of range by the time it reacted and reached. Casey watched it through his rear view as he increased speeds again and left the beast in his tracks. Returning his gaze back ahead he could see another figure down the road. With his left hand on the steering wheel, he reached for the Glock on his dash with the other - removing the safety as the car approached. He started to decelerate one hundred meters out when the figure became clear and imminent. Casey looked to each side of the forestry that surrounded, seeing if this might be a trap of some kind. A lone person in the middle of the road in broad daylight? Didn't seem logical, so he stopped and waited, flashing his lights to see the - now clearly a girl - girl's reaction. "What's your play?" he thought to himself, flashing his lights again to get a reaction.

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Name : Casey Guidry
Age : 30

: Skills :
Woodwork - ability to make and repair structures using wood.
Intimidation - ability to frighten others through physical or verbal stimulus.
Hand-to-Hand Combat - ability to confront others physically at short range.

: Preferred Weapons :
Glock 22 - taken from a deceased correctional officer.

: Personality :
Casey was known to be an easy going and optimistic individual prior to his event. He grew up with strong family bonds just like any other southerner and was known by many as a hard-working and overall good individual. After his event he changed drastically. His experiences inside twisted him, forced him to become a survivor - stealing his humanity in a sense. He wasn’t ruthless, but was forced into adulthood in a world he didn’t know - learning from poisonous individuals what it meant to be a man. His new environment sculpted him into a more aggressive and stilled individual, one that lacked a positive view of the world. Everything became serious, life-threatening and fearful. It was survival of the fittest, adapt or die...so Casey adapted.

: Brief Bio :
A night’s mistake led to an eight year sentence without reasonable bail in general population. Casey was charged and imprisoned for aggravated battery at the young age of twenty two years old - before the world’s inevitable collapse. He served his sentence with hard labor all while destruction crumbled the globe unbeknownst to him. Prisoners had limited exposure to the outside world during their sentence (even before the end) so their knowledge of the unfolding disease and the reanimation of corpses was nonexistent. Many prisoners rioted during this time, their privileges stripped inhumanely as the federal government stopped funding these facilities. Their treatment followed as prison guards began to exercise their rights to use force when necessary more frequently than before - foreman no longer regulating the code of conduct. Food shortages, unsanitary conditions and a crumbled system imploded the prison from the seemingly fortress it was to the outside world. Prisoners started to die from hunger and disease but they came back to life in their cells - shot to death and burned in their cells. Three weeks ago the prison became overrun by the dead and the guards’ humanity opened some of the cells. Casey was one of the lucky ones and escaped.

My Hero Academia RP | Interest Check & Recruitment Ad

Interested

Groundhog's Day: Apocalypse

@Zoey White

It’s common courtesy to ask. Especially since it states it’s a four-to-five player roleplay in the first post.

Groundhog's Day: Apocalypse

Hello @Queen Raidne. Wanted to know if you are still accepting new applications?

The Black Undeath [Medieval + Zombies] (NOW RECRUITING)

Interested.

Few questions:

1) What type of undead? Do they run or just walk? Do they evolve? Is this more walking dead, resident evil or world war z?

2) Are most survivors taking sanctuary within the walls? How big is this space?

3) what kind of villain ideas do you have?

☆Summers In Sympathy☆

Interested.