@XxLyraxX Was it as effective as I thought it would be? Thought it was rather amusing 
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- Torch 9 yrs ago
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9 yrs ago
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Just another day...OF AWESOMENESS
9 yrs ago
In need of something fast paced and exciting...
9 yrs ago
Sadness isn't the opposite of happiness, its just low on the same scale.
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9 yrs ago
New here and need to make some friends...That's what mother says, anyway.
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@KahleenCuthald Neet neet mee sweet.
Long post by me, sorry if it's off putting - buttalikit. Excuse any errors, proof reading is hard on my laptop atm.
In the English vocabulary, which is in itself stupendously vast, there is a bounteous treasure of words that can with only a handful of syllables sum up a situation or how someone feels in a particular situation. Equally there are endless ways to react to the world physically; countless variations of facial expression as well numerous non-verbal noises and various interpretable body languages to see. Some would argue that all of this is nonsense, others will tell you that words cannot describe everything - but how wrong they are, for there are some words that can describe countless aspects of a moment in time, for example...
Fuck.
It's not hard to see, it's almost everywhere you look nowadays. It was especially not hard to discern the fuck on the face of Isaac as he edged his way across the narrow stone corridor of doom that was the ledge of a building. The way his dry pink tongue angled out between his lips and gently quivered against the pale skin there was fuck in action, so was the manor in which he ground his teeth together - rhythmically grating the jaw left and right in alternating directions. If you were to look closely you would see the grimy and salty liquid fuck that was seeping from Isaac's every pore slowly run its course down the arch of his narrow nose and accumulate, dropping to the ground beneath in a small splash of fuck.
It would't take the most veteran of fuck spotters to see the way in which his every cautious and reserved step along the perilous route screamed the inglorious four letter word. Even the almost non-existent trembling in his bent outwards knees beneath the ragged jeans he wore, how the material on his gloves clung to the miniature landscape that every brick his hands crossed presented and the deep furrowing of his brow followed by a look to the clouded heavens as he peered down towards the distance paved street floor - all were active examples of fuck.
The zombies had been pestering him all day, following his every move as he made his way from room to room, searching and scavenging, trying to survive. He had to cut a few down, quick strikes to the head, or just a swift kick and stab if he felt particularly energetic. He had found himself a nice little handgun when the bastard who had been its previous owner opened up their eyes to say hello. Isaac had leapt back, taking the handgun and tearing off the guys finger in the process, he made for the door, but typically it was currently being used by a gang of walking day wreckers.
Hurriedly Isaac kicked the gun guy down, because he felt a surge of energetic-ness, and sliced down into his skull with his cleaver. Then he heaved the blade from its bloody captor, and slipped through the open window onto the small patio. From there he pulled himself reluctantly onto the ledge and began edging away as the hands and rasping moans of the zombies reached and called out to him, a few of them reaching a bit too enthusiastically, resulting in a gradually reducing in volume growl then a reassuring crunch-splat.
Isaac had been on a school trip when he was eight. It was boring, as most were. They saw a castle and listened to some old guy and his stories about the tower and how people were hidden there from someone the something. Then when he was fifteen he went to Spain with his language class, that was less boring. A few nice girls and constant sun, plus his friends were there to dull down the school atmosphere. However none of them came close to his current school trip, Prague with the history class.
Nothing came close to a week in a luxury hotel, followed by site seeing, boat rides and then to top it all of, the zombie apocalypse - nothing appealed more to him than freedom, and no one was stopping him now. Well, at least that was his mindset at that very second, then he heard a gunshot followed suit by what sounded like two cars crashing head on, it was a loud crash for sure, and it came from the bridge to his left. In all the commotion, Isaac forgot to breath, and so he took a quick deep breath in.
His back arched ever so slightly, pushing against the building behind him, his hands and the gloves on them were lifted from the brick wall and his booted toes tipped their heads to gravity. In an instant his heart stopped, his eyes froze and a still came over his body, then he was falling and his heart was racing, an endless onslaught of beats.
His eyes darted this was and that, flaying his arms as he searched for something to grip, anything to hold before the air he was falling through stopped and the ground began. All the while his ever dry tongue had retreated behind his chipped lips, and they were wide and reverberating as his lungs pushed out what he was sure to be the last thing he would ever hear in this life.
"Fuuuucccckkkkk!"
Fuck.
It's not hard to see, it's almost everywhere you look nowadays. It was especially not hard to discern the fuck on the face of Isaac as he edged his way across the narrow stone corridor of doom that was the ledge of a building. The way his dry pink tongue angled out between his lips and gently quivered against the pale skin there was fuck in action, so was the manor in which he ground his teeth together - rhythmically grating the jaw left and right in alternating directions. If you were to look closely you would see the grimy and salty liquid fuck that was seeping from Isaac's every pore slowly run its course down the arch of his narrow nose and accumulate, dropping to the ground beneath in a small splash of fuck.
It would't take the most veteran of fuck spotters to see the way in which his every cautious and reserved step along the perilous route screamed the inglorious four letter word. Even the almost non-existent trembling in his bent outwards knees beneath the ragged jeans he wore, how the material on his gloves clung to the miniature landscape that every brick his hands crossed presented and the deep furrowing of his brow followed by a look to the clouded heavens as he peered down towards the distance paved street floor - all were active examples of fuck.
The zombies had been pestering him all day, following his every move as he made his way from room to room, searching and scavenging, trying to survive. He had to cut a few down, quick strikes to the head, or just a swift kick and stab if he felt particularly energetic. He had found himself a nice little handgun when the bastard who had been its previous owner opened up their eyes to say hello. Isaac had leapt back, taking the handgun and tearing off the guys finger in the process, he made for the door, but typically it was currently being used by a gang of walking day wreckers.
Hurriedly Isaac kicked the gun guy down, because he felt a surge of energetic-ness, and sliced down into his skull with his cleaver. Then he heaved the blade from its bloody captor, and slipped through the open window onto the small patio. From there he pulled himself reluctantly onto the ledge and began edging away as the hands and rasping moans of the zombies reached and called out to him, a few of them reaching a bit too enthusiastically, resulting in a gradually reducing in volume growl then a reassuring crunch-splat.
Isaac had been on a school trip when he was eight. It was boring, as most were. They saw a castle and listened to some old guy and his stories about the tower and how people were hidden there from someone the something. Then when he was fifteen he went to Spain with his language class, that was less boring. A few nice girls and constant sun, plus his friends were there to dull down the school atmosphere. However none of them came close to his current school trip, Prague with the history class.
Nothing came close to a week in a luxury hotel, followed by site seeing, boat rides and then to top it all of, the zombie apocalypse - nothing appealed more to him than freedom, and no one was stopping him now. Well, at least that was his mindset at that very second, then he heard a gunshot followed suit by what sounded like two cars crashing head on, it was a loud crash for sure, and it came from the bridge to his left. In all the commotion, Isaac forgot to breath, and so he took a quick deep breath in.
His back arched ever so slightly, pushing against the building behind him, his hands and the gloves on them were lifted from the brick wall and his booted toes tipped their heads to gravity. In an instant his heart stopped, his eyes froze and a still came over his body, then he was falling and his heart was racing, an endless onslaught of beats.
His eyes darted this was and that, flaying his arms as he searched for something to grip, anything to hold before the air he was falling through stopped and the ground began. All the while his ever dry tongue had retreated behind his chipped lips, and they were wide and reverberating as his lungs pushed out what he was sure to be the last thing he would ever hear in this life.
"Fuuuucccckkkkk!"
<Snipped quote by Torch>
Lol, I wasn't sure. Thought it best to play the hat-in-hand approach, just in case you were one of them colourful types.
Pleaseee! I'm too colourful for you.
Wow guys, take a seat, lay back. Relax, I'm a nice GM. Mostly
I was joking about the advertisement.
I was joking about the advertisement.
I do not endorse advertisement of RP's in my apopalypse. Tut tut tut 
<Snipped quote by KahleenCuthald>
I'm just getting you warmed up for Crazy
@Frengo Cool, though your signature needs redone. ;)
@XxLyraxX Take a look at google maps (Prague) and pick a starting location. Honestly, you guys can converse on here about where you want to start.
@KahleenCuthald If a character dies to narrative then I am fine with that. People die, if anyone wants to make another to replace one that is dead, that's fine too. If two characters are fighting, we will move the combat into PM's and have an arena style fight.
Sound okay?
@Frengo Post whenever you like.
@KahleenCuthald If a character dies to narrative then I am fine with that. People die, if anyone wants to make another to replace one that is dead, that's fine too. If two characters are fighting, we will move the combat into PM's and have an arena style fight.
Sound okay?
@Frengo Post whenever you like.
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