shivershiver

Flight of the Angels: A Zombie RP

June 28, 2014
4:18 AM
Room 10
Archstone Santa Monica Apartments

Long before the sun pierced through the bleached blinds, Werner Coetzee was out of his unmade bed and dressed for the young day. Fitful sleep was common for him as of late, his mind forever occupied with the same problems. Werner usually ended up four hours early to work, already wrenching on cars long before his boss came in. The stark-white apartment was still shrouded in darkness, but the man navigated through sparse furniture from memory. Outside the building, he could hear the occasional whine of a police siren, but other than that it was fairly quiet. Donning his grey leather jacket, Werner slammed the door shut behind him and walked down the long hallway to the stairwell. Usually, he was the only resident of the building awake at this time, but this was not the case today. Several occupants were leaving their rooms, loaded down with luggage and suitcases as if they were leaving for vacation. From the hall, Werner could hear those within their rooms either packing or talking in hushed voices. The overall atmosphere within the building was tense at best, with residents looking at eachother with suspicious gazes. Werner continued through the hall, rough hands buried in his coat pockets, when he spotted his neighbor, Conrad, also lugging two suitcases behind him. Werner caught up to the man, who greeted him with a tired smile. Conrad, Werner gathered, was a young college student with rather wealthy parents, though he certainly didn’t behave like it. He was tall, slender, and generally an unremarkable person aside from his background, but a kind soul.

“What’s going on Conrad?” Werner asked as the two walked along. Conrad shrugged wearily before replying.

“Nobody knows, really. Some say rioting, others think its a virus, could just be nothing. A big panic,” Conrad replied.

“What do you think?” Werner knew that Conrad was smart, certainly smarter than him, a high school dropout. If anyone in the apartment complex knew what was going on, it would be him.

Conrad waited a few seconds before replying, his mind still sluggish with sleep. “I don’t know, Werner, I really don’t. But I do know that the media… They’re wrong. This is something new, and its gonna be big.”

Werner frowned at the response, hoping for something a little more straightforward. He wished the college student luck and parted ways with him as the two left the apartment. Outside, the situation was quickly escalating. While none had resorted to looting yet, the air was thick with desperation to prepare for whatever was coming their way. Werner decided it would simply be another infamous LA riot, and doubted it would ever reach Santa Monica. Work would be the best choice for him, as it always was. Working away beneath cars always put his mind at ease.

Werner walked to his parking spot, perhaps a little quicker than usual, but managed to find the time to admire his car for a moment. The grey third-gen Chevy Nova sat exactly where he left it, the soft glow of street lights shimmering on the reflective paint. It wasn’t anything special to look at, but the work under the hood was something of a masterpiece. Werner hopped into the car, and with a swift jerk of the ignition, the beast roared to life. He made his way through the growing crowd of pedestrians in the parking lot and onto the street, which had a little more traffic than usual.

As he drove, Werner turned through the stations, all of which broadcasted an emergency signal that he listened to briefly. He shook his head and instead popped in a CD, which slowly began pumping dark electronic music into the small cabin, the old crackly speakers warping the music even further. The route he usually took to the autoshop was fairly simple and quick, usually a five-minute drive in the early morning. He would take Broadway and turn off onto 14th Street, and with a right turn at Pico Boulevard Werner would arrive at Santa Monica Autoworks. Today, he would not be taking his regular route.

Werner drove through the poorly-lit streets, with several police cruisers soaring past him towards downtown LA. The sight of blue and red lights in his rear-view always made the man tense up, even when he wasn’t hauling three criminals loaded down with bags of stolen currency in his backseat. It did comfort him, though, that they were heading away from his neighborhood and deeper into the city. His thoughts were interrupted when, at an intersection, a massive H3 Hummer slammed into his passenger door at frightening speeds, slamming Werner’s head into the side of the door. All his senses faded away, and the last he heard was the grinding of metal against tarmac.

The mechanic slowly awoke, and was a little confused as to why he still saw his leather steering wheel as opposed to the bright, sterile interior of an ambulance. He’d been in several car accidents with the scars to prove it, and after each one he was hauled to the hospital. Werner felt the sensation of liquid running against his cheek, but it was traveling up towards his hairline. In the crash, his precious Nova had been flipped on its back. Now, only a seat belt held Werner in his place, the force of gravity acting against him. He unbuckled himself, a decision he soon regretted as his head slammed against the crumpled roof, causing his ears to ring. Werner crawled across broken glass and out the passenger window, where he shakily gained his footing. Nothing was broken, no severe lacerations, only a few minor bumps and scrapes. His right knee ached, an old injury from a separate wreck, but it wasn’t debilitating. Werner took a few steps away and knew that he would never be able to salvage the pile of twisted metal before him. It pained him, but he had others, and he was simply glad to be walking away from the nightmarish crash. Werner walked to check on the Hummer’s driver to find she wasn’t so lucky.

The woman was about 30 or so, with long blonde hair and pale skin. Her neck was soaked in coagulated blood, and a giant gash ran across her forehead, with even more blood seeping from every orifice in her body. She was slumped in her seat, eyes rolled in the back of her head. Werner opened her door, and the seemingly dead woman suddenly came to life, thrashing around in the car, restrained by her seatbelt. A horrible, gurgling scream of agony ripped from her mouth, and Werner scrambled to help, tearing her seatbelt off. She was quick to reward his help by lunging at the mechanic, pinning him to the ground. He held up an arm to protect himself, using the other to keep her at bay, and she sank her teeth into his leather jacket, though failing to penetrate through the thick material. Primal instincts took hold of Werner as he managed in his weakened state to roll on top of the crazed woman, grabbed her by the roots of her hair, and pounded the back of her head against the cold pavement. After a couple strikes, her skull gave way, spilling the contents onto the black road, though he did not stop. When her screams silenced, Werner slowly stood up, chest heaving. He slowly came to the realize just what he’d done in his haze, looking down at the crumpled corpse splayed before him. He turned away, hands on his knees, and emptied the acidic contents of his stomach. Looking up, nobody seemed to notice. In fact, nobody even cared. Windows to stores were being bashed open like piggy banks, seeking the wealth inside. Collided cars filled the street. Cops tried to restore order, but their shots in the air were drowned out by the roaring crowd. The virus had barely touched Santa Monica, but panic was already in full swing.

Mass Effect: Let the Galaxy Burn

These are some twisted mind games... I think it is time for something else.

Sleep Paralysis

Thanks for all the horrifying stories guys. Now, who is going to rock me to sleep?

SPAM NEWS: The Roleplaying Minstrels Perform an Ode to Mahz

Oni said
https://soundcloud.com/the-roleplaying-minstrels/an-ode-to-mahz

Brilliant. Brilliant brilliant brilliant. I shall add this ballad to my role playing playlist, which is just the score to Conan right now.

Flight of the Angels: A Zombie RP

Whew, took me about 4 tries to get the appearance link to work, but my bio's finished! Lemme know if I need to change anything.

Flight of the Angels CS Thread

Werner Coetzee

Name: Werner Coetzee

Age: 27

Origin: Las Vegas, Nevada

Residence: Los Angeles

Occupation: Mechanic and wheelman

Relationships: Charlize Coetzee (Mother, deceased), Father (Unknown), Luke Valles (Employer), Florenda Marino (Ex-girlfriend)

Appearance:
Werner stands at 6’1 with broad shoulders and lean muscle, accuentated further by little body fat. His hands are rough and strong from a life of working on his vehicles, but still manage more delicate work. His right pinkie finger is missing from the first knuckle up, leaving a rounded stump. Most of his body is a mess of scars and tattoos accumulated over time, some faded, and others very new. While many might consider scars to be attractive, few would consider those that mar Werner’s skin very appealing. Most are non-uniform splashes of rough flesh from burns or road rash, but a few, like the two that dig into his cheek, have been acquired through other means. Where there are no scars, Werner has filled his skin with large and elegant tattoos, none with any deep meaning other than art.

Werner wears non-slip lace-up leather boots, slim-fitting jeans, an oil-stained grey v-neck, mechanix gloves, and a pair of cheap wayfarer sunglasses.

History: Werner Coetzee never really had much of a chance at a normal life. His mother, Charlize, was a young woman who left her home to seek out her fame as a showgirl in Las Vegas. The naive girl was quickly seduced by a young man with a passion for cars, who later came to be Werner’s father. His father left Charlize, never knowing she was pregnant, leaving her to bear the full burden of an infant son with no means of an income and no family in Las Vegas. Without any other option, Werner’s mother resorted to prostitution in order to feed her child, often neglecting her own health for his. Much to Charlize’s disappointment, Werner slid through school with few interests, barely passing his classes. He deeply yearned to know his father’s identity, but was only told that his dad’s hobby was working on vehicles.

Seeking a connection to his absent father, Werner took this to the extreme, revolving his whole world around engines. From a young age, he worked in a ratty mechanic’s shop, absorbing everything he could about the rugged vehicles that came into the garage. When he turned 16, his first action was to purchase a dirt bike, which he rode constantly both on road and off with fervent zeal.

Werner dropped out of high school his final year when his mother died of AIDs, the virus acting very rapidly on her already weakened body. Seeing no future for him in his hometown, Werner moved to Los Angeles with nothing but his bike and the clothes on his back, similar to his mother. His goals, however, were a little more realistic. With his vast knowledge of vehicles, Werner found a job in a decent mechanic shop within the city run by an older man named Luke. The aged mechanic, witnessing Werner’s skills as a driver on race tracks, recognized his unique skill set and offered him a different type of employment in addition to working in his shop. Luke suggested that Werner serve as a getaway driver for criminals on occasion, knowing several men within the criminal network. Luke told Werner that in his youth, he did the same, and saw the same abilities in him. Werner reluctantly took the job, for his mother instilled a strong sense of morals in him, but he was desperately hurting for cash. He slowly sank into the criminal world, building a modest reputation for himself, but still retaining his strong morals.

At 25, Werner met a beautiful Italian woman of the same age at the mechanic shop when she took her beat-up car in. Having no vehicle for the night, Werner gave her a ride home and learned her name was Florenda Marino, and, like his mother, she sought fame in Hollywood. The two quickly developed an intimate relationship, with Werner constantly urging Florenda to pursue her dreams, as if to redeem his mother’s failed ones. Despite Werner’s relatively quiet disposition, the couple seemed to be made for each other. Unfortunately, after three years, Florenda broke off their relationship. She always feared he was involved in criminal activity. The apartment, while modest, was much nicer than what a mechanic could afford. Some nights, Werner would be out until the next morning, though he never smelled of booze. She realized just how dangerous he was when he burst into their apartment with a gunshot wound to his shoulder and hastily pried the bullet out, asking her to stitch the open hole. Florenda helped him, then promptly packed her bags and left.

Werner continued his life without Florenda, though with less enthusiasm and ambition. He began questioning his life as a criminal, albeit a fairly tame one, and if it was one he could truly be proud of. Luke, however, was practically a father to him, and constantly encouraged his illegal career, so he stuck with his life as a wheelman. In the back of his mind, though, Werner felt he should become something greater than a glorified criminal.

Personality: Werner doesn't ever really say much. He’s a very reserved and calm man for the most part, only speaking when needed. Werner isn’t shy, he's simply a man of few words. He is much more content to stand and listen during the conversation, absorbing everything like a sponge. Werner is exceptional at reading emotions since he focuses on others so much, but has a difficult time expressing his own feelings. While he speaks with good grammar, his vocabulary is pretty limited, exhibiting his lack of a proper education. His knowledge rarely extends outside of mechanics, but he displays a very deep understanding of the entire subject.

Despite being a criminal, Werner is a reasonably moral man. He doesn't steal, take advantage of women, and keeps his vices in check. Outside of his job as a wheelman, Werner always tries to make good choices, though sometimes he fails in this endeavor. He is quick to recognize mistakes, however, and does his best to learn from them. That being said, there is a much darker side to him that few see. When backed into a corner, he is willing to do whatever is needed to survive, and these actions sometimes disturb him. While he hasn’t ever killed anyone, Werner has come startlingly close.

Werner is generally a very trusting and kind man, going out of his way to help others when possible. Those who are very close to him, such as Luke and Florenda, however, have his undying loyalty. He would do anything for those within this circle, even if it meant risking his own life.

Starting Situation: Werner is just leaving his Archstone apartment and heading for work.

Mass Effect: Let the Galaxy Burn

NacNak said
I'm fearing the possibility of not being picked.... it's an awful feeling >_< but besides that, may the odds forever be in everyone's favor =3

I feel your feels. I'm more nervous about getting accepted into this than college :P

Shit RPG Says

K-97 said
It was chaos man, feminists everywhere. I was scared for my karma.

Haven't you learned, there are no girls on the internet?

yeah!

Shit RPG Says

Is this 4chan?