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    1. Yojimbo 10 yrs ago

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9 yrs ago
Current Seek not what you can do for yourself, but what you can do for others.
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Bio

Use to frequent this site and Roleplay Gateway; however I was forced to return to reality for some time.

I was once known as The_Lone_SOLDIER and frequently played under the pseudonyms Aymuharu Isamu and Nicholas Grayeson.

Detailed accounts are what I seek and a plot that is easy, yet complex to follow for good story-telling.

If you wish to see record of my skills (sub-par to some), please look up my character names and see for yourself.

Most Recent Posts

Additionally, I've posted my post for the evening here. Everyone have a safe night/morning.

Also, I kinda threw a hint into what I'd consider to do to get away from the horde down below. So if anyone can figure a way into another apartment building that appeases the GM, then I'm all for it.
"Hundreds of zombies are coming this way!" There was a slight pause, quickly followed by "We have to keep going up and barricading as we go!"

"Shit... this won't hold against ten of these things for long, how will it stand against more?" Nicholas asked himself, his eyes searching for more to barricade with.

Nicholas stood from his position and looked over the railing, taking note that it was taking time for the creatures to traverse the stairs. Returning his attention to finding additional items to hold back the coming horde, his eyes came across one of the nearby rooms. Shouldering his rifle, he quickly made his way to the left side of the door and reached out to the doorknob. Slowly turning it till it became free, Grayeson shouldered his way into the room and started checking the corners. Though it was relatively dark, there was a nearby lamp that illuminated the room enough to see there was no threat. Moving from the living room towards the kitchen, clearing it, then on to the other rooms as well to ensure there was no danger. When all was clear, he turned his attention to the furniture inside the living room. Releasing his grip on his rifle, allowing it to dangle from his plate carrier; Nicholas grabbed one end of a love seat and drug the couch outside of the apartment and out into the stairwell. Quickly maneuvering the seating into place, he returned to the apartment and grabbed additional chairs and a table to help reinforce their "wall" of sorts. When the apartment was barren of anything he could move on his own to secure the stairwell, he locked the door of the apartment from the inside and closed it tight. Turning back to the stairs, he quickly made his way up to the scene that was playing out before. On the floor, lay a half-demolished hunk of meat that once resembled a pup and a woman with her skull crushed inward.

"I see this situation is handled." Nicholas said, a tone of satisfaction trailed off his southern accent.

Overhearing someone mention about limiting the use of firearms, he simply nodded. Gunfire or any loud, sudden noises drove the creatures to their position immediately. How he managed to forget his "dream" was like a video game, evaded him but he knew better now than to unconsciously use his weapons. Switching his rifle to SAFE, he loosened his grip to show he was willing to take the subtle approach if it meant keeping everyone else alive.

"I've barricaded the entrance to the second floor from the first with some furniture. We need to continue moving and see if there is a viable way out of this frying pan." he spoke out, agreeing with the people wanting to move. "And there is no way to the ground floor besides the elevators, bad idea. Or using the decrepit fire escapes, which leads to the droves outside which want to eat us all." he quickly reminded the woman not wanting to continue on to the roof.

She was right, Grayeson knew that with every fiber of his being as a Marine. Getting trapped into one position without any support is as much a death sentence in war, as it is in this situation. But unless they have a way to the next apartment building over, they were sitting ducks at the moment.
Wait, why was there a nuclear bomb on the top floor! It makes no sense, unless..... DAMN YOU, ZOMBIE SQUIRRELS!!!


Fucking. Epic.
There is my post for the night, I gotta head back into work. Take care.
The bloody police officer mentioned something about a silencer and having grenades, but he paid no attention to that as he had none.

The holy priest murmured something about helping him, but Nicholas heard his footsteps as the priest eventually ran upstairs to help make the movement safer and faster.

A passing girl watched him before when he killed the others, making mental notes Grayeson suspected about him.

The foreign photographer said something off-hand about his comment to the priest for “securing” the lobby, but Nicholas knew he would understand soon enough.


Everything started slowing down as Nicholas returned his attention to what was unfolding before him. After those initial bursts of gunfire, he noticed more rampant movement outside and coming towards the apartment building. Knowing the situation was getting dire, he dropped to a knee and steadied his aim before sending some lead down range to appearing creatures. These were slightly faster than the child he recently put down; but he knew the gunfire would draw more of them soon. Watching the bodies of the deceased fall back as they were sailing into the air, he immediately stood up and started back pedaling up the stairs. His rifle still trailed down range to the oncoming onslaught till he bumped into someone; causing him to release the rifle and draw his sidearm to whoever/whatever he bumped into. Seeing it was just a scared, old man who was having trouble going up the stairs; Grayeson turned back to the front and kept an eye on the slow-moving horde.

“Get the old man upstairs officer, I’ll barricade the stairwell with whatever I can manage to use.” Nicholas quickly ordered, calmly yet firmly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of two long benches that could slow down the creatures. Returning his sidearm to its holster, he grabbed ahold of the bench and dragged it across the pathway of the stairs. Quickly following up with the other and stacking on top of the other, Nicholas started back pedaling with his rifle back in his hands. When he bumped back into the old man, he made a note to stop for a moment to take another knee. Rifle trailing back down the winding staircase, he started utilizing his situational awareness to what else could be utilized as a barricade. A small statue carved from stone to his right seemed like the next obvious choice. Lowering his rifle, he quickly but carefully lowered the statue to the steps and rolled it into the benches. Watching it roll right into place, securing the benches a bit tighter; he kept his “eyes” searching for anything else of use. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught glimmers of flashes from far off explosions in the city, popping in quick flashbacks of wartime at night. When he finally snapped back into “reality,” since he thought it was all still a dream; he slowly started backing up the stairs. The sounds of screams and a loud crash erupted from above, causing his eyes to raise upwards for a moment then back to the stairs below him.

“What the hell is going on up there?” he asked himself.
Apologies everyone for my delayed responses, as I am on the west coast of the United States. My profession keeps me from posting as frequent as I'd like with an interesting roleplay. So, please know I will not intentionally hold things back due to my slow responses to the GM's actions as well as your own. Thank you.

Also, I'm glad everyone liked my one-liner.
Nicholas Grayeson

One Hour Ago.

The shock wave from a nearby explosion woke the slightly intoxicated Grayeson, causing him to spill the half-empty bottle of Jameson from his lap. His pistol in hand, he quickly started surveying the room of his bare apartment for any signs of intruders. Maybe the nightmare of a previous combat tour and the alcohol tricked his mind into thinking there was an explosion nearby. When he felt nothing seemed out of place, he lowered himself to the couch he was laying on before. The nightmares were becoming more frequent it seemed, with every night replaying different gunfights with insurgents he either killed or narrowly missed. Taking in a deep breath, he placed his pistol on the table in front of him and stood up; making his way slowly to the kitchen for a glass of water. The radio near the window was buzzing, something about reports of an infection spreading throughout the city. He paid no mind to it, because the only lethal infections going around right now would be the flu or the virus ravaging Asia and Europe. Of course, there were rumors going around that there were some cases popping up in the United States, but they were rumors.

Grabbing a nearby glass, he filled it with water, and quickly gulped down the contents before turning back to the living room. Everything was in disarray as he left it upon returning home from the bar the previous night. Looking down to his watch, he noted the time was late and it was actually two days after the bar, not one. He missed work two days in a row, there was no talking out of this one; even with the VA appointment excuse. Shrugging his shoulders, he took a seat and grabbed his phone off the coffee table to check for any missed messages. Nothing. Which was odd as his mother or grandfather usually called him every night to ensure he was alright. Clicking on his social media profile, it was immediately filled with accounts of the Asian/European infection had hit the city and there was a military quarantine in effect.

"This can't be right... he told himself.

Immediately, he clicked on his computer and searched for the local news to confirm this wasn't just some hoax or meme gone rogue. It too told the same story as his social media, claims of reanimated corpses terrorizing the streets and the National Guard issuing a quarantine order for the city. Just to be sure, he checked three other local news sources and eventually national news sources; all saying the exact same thing. Standing up suddenly, he started pacing around the room, contemplating how this must be a horrible dream that he hasn't woken from. It was impossible to have this occurring, zombies aren't real and never would be. This wasn't some Resident Evil or Left 4 Dead video game, this has to be a dream of sorts. Then another shock wave from another explosion erupted, this time a lot closer than the one he felt was a dream. Without a second thought, he rushed over to the nearby window and pushed through the blinds to see what lay outside. Chaos, fires, police and emergency lights, gunfire, and mobs of people running around. This was real... at least it seemed to be real at the moment till he woke up. But if he was stuck in this dream, he knew what would happen to those not prepped for this situation. Then again... was he really prepared for a "Raccoon City" apocalypse in his world? Turning towards what appeared to be a military-grade container, locked under a padlock, he reached under his shirt and pulled out the key. Looking at the key, to the box, then back at the key; he took a deep breath and made his way over.

Now

Pulling back the charging handle and feeling the bolt ride back and forth in the chamber; he slowly squeezed the trigger till hearing a "click." Lowering the rifle to his couch, he reached down and drew his sidearm from its holster on his right leg. Ejecting the magazine and pulling the slide back, he slowly squeezed the trigger for the same "click" as his rifle gave. When it occurred, he slammed the magazine back inside the pistol and slid it back into the holster. Reaching over, he grabbed his old plate carrier from his time in the Marines and adjusted it to fit comfortably with his current attire. There is no adjusting equipment when in a sticky situation he recalled an old battle buddy saying before their HUMVEE took an RPG round. Sliding in the three full,30-round magazines for his rifle in their pouches on the front of the carrier; he picked up his rifle and slung it over his body. A single magazine of .223 Remington was left on the coffee table and all he could do was stare at it. If this is the real deal, he would be stepping back into a world he was all too familiar with. People would die and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. Shaking his head, he reached down and grabbed the lone magazine before inserting it into the rifle. Pulling the charging handle back, he listened and felt the round pop from the magazine and into the chamber. All he had to do now was switch it to "SEMI," aim, and fire at whatever he deemed a threat. There were no Rules of Engagement now.

"Back into the Suck..." he told himself, a phrase he always spoke before heading out the wire in a combat zone.

Making his way to the door, he grabbed the assault pack he placed there earlier, slung it onto his back and made his way out the door. Instantly, his military training kicked in and he raised his rifle to survey the hallway. Quietly and slowly, he closed the door behind him with his free hand. His eyes, never leaving from the hallway in front of him. Luckily for him, he lived at the very end of the hallway and had no one behind him to be of concern. Both hands on the rifle now, he slowly made his way down towards the intersection and paused for a moment to take a look. Everything seemed clear that was in all directions, no sounds or anything out of place it seemed. But he knew that at any moment, someone could bash through the door and try to take his life. Slowly checking his corners again, he took the left hallway and towards the staircase for the lobby on the first floor. The elevator was out of the question, because being packed like a sardine in a metal box spells trouble for everyone.

Upon reaching the staircase, he checked over the railing and saw there was still lights on downstairs; as well as voices from TVs and people below. Perhaps he wasn't the only one inside, which could be beneficial and not so beneficial to him surviving this whole thing. Beneficial because he could learn what he hadn't from the news, but no beneficial because a crowd is a problem when surviving. Slowly, he made his way down the stairs with his rifle trained in front of him in case he needed to use it. When reaching the bottom, he pressed his back against the wall and peered out from his hiding spot to learn the situation. People were praying, others watching the news, some holding their families, all of which made sense to him in the event of a disaster. When the bloodied police officer scrambled into the lobby, Nicholas knew situations outside were as bad as he thought. And if the police are having a hard time, that means the military is having a hard time fending the civilian populace as well. As his eyes kept searching the area, he watched as a small child ran into the lobby and towards what appeared to be a priest; all the while shrieking and covered in blood. Without hesitation, the officer lunged forward and bashed it with a crowbar; putting an end to its existence. Turning back to the staircase behind him and the small area he currently occupied, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly to relax his nerves. The child, though it wasn't anything like the children he had seen in the war, still reminded him of the small boy he shot dead when it picked up a rifle to shoot his fellow Marines.

"That was the past, you have to focus on the now." he told himself.

His back still pressed against the wall between him and the lobby, he waited to see what would occur next. All he knew next was the flood of people rushing up the stairs next to him; none noticing he was even there. It was strange to think how common people are with cattle when spooked. When the pastor appeared, reciting one of the psalms he vaguely recalled; Nicholas slowly bled back into the shadows. As he turned to make his way back upstairs, he overhears the preacher calling out to the police sergeant about a problem. Looking into the lobby, he watched as the bloody corpse of a woman started twitching and more of the infected started flooding in. Without considering it, he immediately appeared in front of the priest like a ghost and flicked his rifle off SAFE. Slowly and smoothly, he squeezed off a single round into the head of the twitching female; which were quickly followed by eight more rounds to the knees of the others scrambling inside.

"Start making your way upstairs Padre, I'll secure the lobby and barricade them from higher ground." he quickly ordered to the holy man.
Profession: Grocery Store Clerk (Formerly United States Marine Corps Infantryman)

Name: Nicholas Grayeson

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance:


Backstory: Grayeson originally hails from the rural areas of northwest Louisiana, growing up with two other siblings. His father disappeared when he was only five, leaving his mother to take up the slack to feed her family. A tin shack with a dirt floor was his home for most of his life until his family moved in with his mother’s parents. His grandparents, taught him the old fashioned ways of living off the land and helping his fellow man. But the most important thing he remembers from an early age, is it was his patriotic duty to at least serve for his country. His grandfather, having been an Army infantryman and his father before him served with the Navy as a ship gunner.

During his time during school, Nicholas was deeply invested in his studies and sports; mostly notably football where he received a scholarship to play for LSU. However, an injury to his right knee forced him to reevaluate his plans after school. It was here he ran into a Marine Corps recruiter and his life changed forever. Remembering his lessons on patriotic duty from his grandfather, he decided to enlist as soon as his knee was healed. When this was all said and done, along with the papers signed; he reported for recruit training at Parris Island, NC.

Nicholas quickly proved through his time at boot camp that he was a promising leader and warrior for the United States military. When he graduated from his training, he followed on to the School of Infantry and trained to be a basic infantryman at Camp Geiger. During his time here, he was a squad leader and won the Honor Graduate award upon completion of training. When war broke out in the Middle East, he deployed and served a couple of tours with 3RD Battalion, 4TH Marines out of Twentynine Palms, CA. However, it was during this time that Nicholas began to see the horrors of the war and what it did to his fellow Marines. Some of his friends never made it home in one piece or some never came back at all. This started taking a toll on the young Grayeson, forcing him to turn to alcohol to cope with the nightmares he had from his deployments. His work ethic started to slip, his physical prowess faltered, and he didn’t seem to care what happened to him. All this occurred while in garrison, but in the field, he was his old self and always rallying his Marines.

Unfortunately, it all came crashing down when Nicholas’s then fiancé revealed she was pregnant, but with a fellow Marine from his unit. Outrage from this betrayal, he left their shared apartment with his pistol and bottle in hand; drove to the middle of the desert. His friends found him three days later, bottle in one hand and seven rounds discharged into his truck. One round was left in the chamber, but Nicholas had passed out before turning the weapon on himself. His friends quickly sobered him up, reported him to the medical facilities, and he spent time in an institution. No longer wanting to serve with the Marines, Nicholas left the service soon after and travelled the country. Eventually, he landed in the city a few weeks prior to the outbreak. Getting a job as a local grocery clerk, he found a sort of solace in this simple life and kept to himself when on and off work.

Part Two: Skills and Equipment

Starting Equipment: {Listed Below}
1.) Eagle Scalable Plate Carrier; three magazine pouches and Individual First-Aid Kit (IFAK) attached.
2.) Tac-Shield Coyote Tan Riggers Belt; reinforced stitching with mounting clips.
3.) BlackHawk SERPA Lvl. 2 Tactical Holster; mounted on the right leg by the belt.
4.) Eagle Assault Pack; reinforced stitching and taped up straps.
5.) Two Meals, Ready-to-Eat (MREs) packed inside Assault Pack. (One halfway eaten).
6.) CamelBak Hydration Carrier; attached to Eagle Plate Carrier. (Half Full).
7.) Mechanix Reinforced Knuckle Tactical Gloves.
8.) Black, zip-up hoodie.
9.) Blue Jeans.
10.) Danner Rugged All-Terrain (RAT) Hot-Weather, Steel-Toe Boots.

Starting Weapons: {Listed Below}
1.) H&K MR223A3; equipped with 30-round magazine, Trijicon 4x3 ACOG, Foregrip, and Sling.
2.) Kimber 1911 Tactical Entry II; equipped with 8-round magazine and Surefire Flashlight.
3.) SOG Jungle Warrior Combat Knife; 8CR13MOV steel fixed blade with molded Kraton handle.

Skills: {Listed Below}
1.) Black Belt, Red Tab Marine Corps Martial Arts Program (MCMAP)
2.) Small Team Tactics (i.e. patrols, conducting searches, ambushes, raids.)
3.) Improvisation Skills (i.e. using materials to construct items for new purposes.)
4.) Hunting and Fishing (i.e. stalking prey and field dressing prey.)
5.) Proficiency with assault weapons and vehicles.

Part Three: Personality, Psychology and Physiology

Bravery (1 – 10): 8.

Psychological Stability (1 – 10): 5.

Reaction Speed (1 - 10): 7.

Physical Strength (1 - 10): 7.

Constitution (1 - 10): 8.

Party Control: No.
Profession: Grocery Store Clerk (Formerly United States Marine Corps Infantryman)

Name: Nicholas Grayeson

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance:


Backstory: Grayeson originally hails from the rural areas of northwest Louisiana, growing up with two other siblings. His father disappeared when he was only five, leaving his mother to take up the slack to feed her family. A tin shack with a dirt floor was his home for most of his life until his family moved in with his mother’s parents. His grandparents, taught him the old fashioned ways of living off the land and helping his fellow man. But the most important thing he remembers from an early age, is it was his patriotic duty to at least serve for his country. His grandfather, having been an Army infantryman and his father before him served with the Navy as a ship gunner.

During his time during school, Nicholas was deeply invested in his studies and sports; mostly notably football where he received a scholarship to play for LSU. However, an injury to his right knee forced him to reevaluate his plans after school. It was here he ran into a Marine Corps recruiter and his life changed forever. Remembering his lessons on patriotic duty from his grandfather, he decided to enlist as soon as his knee was healed. When this was all said and done, along with the papers signed; he reported for recruit training at Parris Island, NC.

Nicholas quickly proved through his time at boot camp that he was a promising leader and warrior for the United States military. When he graduated from his training, he followed on to the School of Infantry and trained to be a basic infantryman at Camp Geiger. During his time here, he was a squad leader and won the Honor Graduate award upon completion of training. When war broke out in the Middle East, he deployed and served a couple of tours with 3RD Battalion, 4TH Marines out of Twentynine Palms, CA. However, it was during this time that Nicholas began to see the horrors of the war and what it did to his fellow Marines. Some of his friends never made it home in one piece or some never came back at all. This started taking a toll on the young Grayeson, forcing him to turn to alcohol to cope with the nightmares he had from his deployments. His work ethic started to slip, his physical prowess faltered, and he didn’t seem to care what happened to him. All this occurred while in garrison, but in the field, he was his old self and always rallying his Marines.

Unfortunately, it all came crashing down when Nicholas’s then fiancé revealed she was pregnant, but with a fellow Marine from his unit. Outrage from this betrayal, he left their shared apartment with his pistol and bottle in hand; drove to the middle of the desert. His friends found him three days later, bottle in one hand and seven rounds discharged into his truck. One round was left in the chamber, but Nicholas had passed out before turning the weapon on himself. His friends quickly sobered him up, reported him to the medical facilities, and he spent time in an institution. No longer wanting to serve with the Marines, Nicholas left the service soon after and travelled the country. Eventually, he landed in the city a few weeks prior to the outbreak. Getting a job as a local grocery clerk, he found a sort of solace in this simple life and kept to himself when on and off work.

Part Two: Skills and Equipment

Starting Equipment: {Listed Below}
1.) Eagle Scalable Plate Carrier; three magazine pouches and Individual First-Aid Kit (IFAK) attached.
2.) Tac-Shield Coyote Tan Riggers Belt; reinforced stitching with mounting clips.
3.) BlackHawk SERPA Lvl. 2 Tactical Holster; mounted on the right leg by the belt.
4.) Eagle Assault Pack; reinforced stitching and taped up straps.
5.) Two Meals, Ready-to-Eat (MREs) packed inside Assault Pack. (One halfway eaten).
6.) CamelBak Hydration Carrier; attached to Eagle Plate Carrier. (Half Full).
7.) Mechanix Reinforced Knuckle Tactical Gloves.
8.) Black, zip-up hoodie.
9.) Blue Jeans.
10.) Danner Rugged All-Terrain (RAT) Hot-Weather, Steel-Toe Boots.

Starting Weapons: {Listed Below}
1.) H&K MR223A3; equipped with 30-round magazine, Trijicon 4x3 ACOG, Foregrip, and Sling.
2.) Kimber 1911 Tactical Entry II; equipped with 8-round magazine and Surefire Flashlight.
3.) SOG Jungle Warrior Combat Knife; 8CR13MOV steel fixed blade with molded Kraton handle.

Part Three: Personality, Psychology and Physiology

Bravery (1 – 10): 8.

Psychological Stability (1 – 10): 5.

Reaction Speed (1 - 10): 7.

Physical Strength (1 - 10): 7.

Constitution (1 - 10): 8.

Party Control: No.
Interested.
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