Shovel

|- ѕтαя∂υѕт -| [FxF]

well, I'm interested but what is your desired posting schedule? One per 2-3 days or?

I Remain: Desolation (A Zombie apocalypse RP without the zombies!)

Cheung Ji

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The House in the Middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, Nevada

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It is strange to see how people still able to care these days, Cheung Ji thinks as the Asian girl left her friend to join with the man to find something to stabilize the girl with the gunshot wounds. The monster or whatever that just broke through the window is still upstairs. The mist is circling like hawks and yet, people care for other people skins. Like why? Why risk their lives for a stranger? And that makes Cheung Ji has all these sorts of thinking at the back of his mind. Mainly about whether these strangers would do the same for him and the extend that he would go to save them.

Maybe he could just slice the woman. She doesn't seem to be very attentive to him than the girl she is trying to save. Maybe, if he could just injure her so that all of those outsides would just swarm in. And meanwhile, he would just run in a different position."

Cheung Ji looks at her. At the African American. At the stranger that is trying to save another stranger. He could feel it. How his blood begins to race. How his jaws clench and the vision of him splitting this woman's head like a watermelon.

How he would run.

And he shuddered at such thought.

Letting out a long sigh, Cheung decided to focus things at hand. Things that he can control.

"Here." Cheung Ji said, placing a lighter and a roll of toilet paper next to the African American girl before retreating back to his position. Usually, these would have traded for something much better than a connection. But, he overheard their conversation earlier, so this is his way to help.

"I'm sorry for not helping much." Cheung Ji said before retreating back to his corner, his grips are still firm on the ax handle. He wants to say something, to ask whether the stranger would make it, to show them that he cares and not this completely selfish prick. But all that he was able to do was opening his mouth and yawn.

Death, Oil & Paradise | Faction Based NRP | Banana Republic & Military Junta (with a twist)

Hernandez Ortis

Easing himself into the armchair, Hernandez takes a look around his new office. It is kinda barren, a small pot of plant in the corner. The wooden table, with its edges chiseled and cover by a layer of polyester. The curtains are thick and the air dampens with the signature smell of inks and paper in stacks of cardboard boxes. Mustard color rugs to go with the white light. No pencils or pens save for the one in his pockets. [i] Absolutely horrendous. [i]

To be honest, Hernandez had never like the "democracy" thing. Just when he is about to figure about the President then bada bing bada boom, someone else is going up. And usually, it is not some no-name without brain either. Like why? If they all want to seize control of the government, just do it already. Spare him of moving his stuff over and over. And who hired these Malizeans architectures? Like he can even design this room better than those clowns.

"Sir, here is our new budget for this year." Said the woman dresses in red as she gave Hernandez a single sheet of paper.

And it doesn't take Hernandez very long to realize a problem in this sheet.

"Where is our budget?" He asked the woman. "Like I won't going to fund the whole department from my own bank account again." He grumbled before handling the sheets back to the woman. "Tell them that just because our department is run by a rich guy doesn't mean they don't allocate any resources to us."

"And give me a line to each department." He yelled out to her as she passed through the doorway, his eyes marveled at the woman's curve and her every movement.

Summary

Nay for the budget.

Death, Oil & Paradise | Faction Based NRP | Banana Republic & Military Junta (with a twist)

@Theodorable Here is my application. Let me know if I need to change anything. Thank you.

Hernandez Ortis

Full Name: Hernandez Ortis
Age: 49
Brief Description & Background:

Nobody knows who Hernandez Ortis was, where he came from, who was he before becoming one of the political forefronts, all they knew was that he was one of the foreign investors who took an interest in Melizea when the first pocket of oil was found. And while everyone was huddling for gold, Hernandez took an interest in developing infrastructure. While everyone is busying constructing oil drill, Hernandez was busying decorating the coast and securing favor from various factions. And when everything settles down, like it always was, Hernandez had already possessed numerous plots of land along the coasts.

And from here, resorts are built to serve the riches. Miles-long beaches and coasts reserved only for hotel guests. Golf courses and pastures. Horse racing and canoeing. Suddenly, Hernandez became the king of mortgages, services and entertainment sections of this decadent nation. And like most people with power and an economy to back it such power, he became a politician. And to be honest, he represents the darker side of the capitalistic way. He made it harder for small companies to be created while making those that are already in charge as the only supplier. There are monopolies in food, in export and import, in building ships and making torpedoes... All of these can't be done without him and the greed of the ruler.

This nation belongs to the rich. Everything in this nation belongs to the rich. And Hernandez is here to make sure that the foreign investment will forever overshadow this newborn's country capability.

Military or Civilian Background: Civilian [Hidden Modifier Attached]

Death, Oil & Paradise | Faction Based NRP | Banana Republic & Military Junta (with a trust)

interest

I Remain: Desolation (A Zombie apocalypse RP without the zombies!)

Cheung Ji

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The House in the Middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, Nevada

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"Shite, shite, shite." Cheung Ji cursed under his breath as he darts toward the house atop the hill. To be honest, he is out of breath. His lung is on fire. His heart boiled. His muscles tensed, and his skin is having goosebumps on goosebumps. For despite being a "survivalist" for more than half a month now, he wasn't very keen on staying in shape per se, often spending more time reading and collecting various goods on his way. But, he wasn't keen on the idea of stopping for breaths either. The limited experiences between him and the mist are not exactly something worth remembering, with him usually hiding in some corner while waiting for the horror to go over. And there is no good hiding place except for the house. So, using all his strength, he ran.

He passed over the three that just arrive in a car. And almost barreling into the living room had he not hold himself against the doorframe to stop the momentum. Even then, he wasn't relieved. Not because the room was filled with strangers, they can kill each other later, but because the mist was here. Its scarlet color promised blood to be spilled. And Cheung wasn't ready for his blood to spill. So, gulping for breaths, he moved himself to one of the corners, where he coincidentally placed behind the girl holding a golf club and the duo who are taking care of an injured.

Perhaps this is where he should stand by the girl's side. Perhaps this is where he should hold his ax and protect the women. Perhaps this is where his morals would win and he will be a hero. Thankfully, it is his fear that is in control. So god be damned and so are these women. Holding the fire ax across his chest, Cheung slowly placed his flashlight on the floor, making sure that the light is directed toward the window.

"God. Just let me live..." Cheung Ji muttered under his breath, tracing imaginary figures in the blood mist like a fisherman in the open sea.

What is the Strangest Thing That You've Done for an RP?

Price of soaps and daily groceries for a normal family during a victorian era.

🌞 F O R G O T T E N R E A L M S 🌙 ~Darkest Horizon~ (INTEREST GATHERING)

@Scrivener Actually one question in regard to religion in your Rp, what god would you said is trickery god for Goliath?

🌞 F O R G O T T E N R E A L M S 🌙 ~Darkest Horizon~ (INTEREST GATHERING)

Interested as well.

I Remain: Desolation (A Zombie apocalypse RP without the zombies!)

Cheung Ji

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♬ I walk the lonely road, the only the one that I could ever walk
Don't know where it goes ... but there is only me with my broken heart ♬

Humming "The Lonely Road" by Green days for the umpteenth times of the day, Cheung Ji continued to trailing down the asphalt road, scavenging for some leftovers from the nearby cars. He needs foods and oil and stuffs to trade, stuffs that people would usually forget when the mists hit. Already and he had made quite some progress, two bottles of water, a bag of Takis, and some texas cinnamon buns. The expiring date for the texas cinnamon buns are maybe 3 days late but it is nothing. He had worse before. Promising for a new day, Cheung thinks while shoving the foods into his bag.

Still, there are vehicles that he wouldn't dare to scavenge due to a lack of people. Flipped cars, cars with burning smells, cars with something resembled a humanoid in them. Especially cars with corpses in them. Cheung Ji had heard of weird noises when the night comes, so who knows if those corpses gonna bite him and give him AIDS or turn him into zombies or something. So with those cars crossed out, there are still quite a few that he can scout.

But just as he was about to scavenge a white ford, the one that those child kidnappers usually use, for some extra rations, a noise rose from the top of the hill. Given normal circumstances, it would have been eaten out by the sounds of vehicles coming back and forth on this street. But these days aren't under normal circumstances now. Everyone is wack and the gas station is either burn to the ground or out of fuels. Everyone is dangerous and has guns. And if binging the Walking Dead series had taught him anything, it is that people are going to hurt you. Not Rick though. He is the protagonist.

So picking up his bag from the sidewalk and positioning his fire ax into a more comfortable grip, Cheung Ji decided to discover the source of this disturbance. If it is one of those marauders on TV, he had times to run. His "house" is only 2 miles down this road anyway. So it is better if he had some ideas for what is happening in the area. Or, if it is even better, he could trade some goods for some shaving soaps. Cheung thinks, his hands run over the prickling new mustache that is slowly forming around his upper lip.

"Yeah. Let's do this."