@CLIW Let me know if there's anything I can do to improve the role-play or my writing style. :)
- Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
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Username history
- Zeldabit 9 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
9 yrs ago
Current
Unfortunately on hiatus.
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9 yrs ago
School's back in; I will be on less often.
9 yrs ago
Since yesterday, I've played Fallout: New Vegas for fourteen hours.
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9 yrs ago
They called her a killer and they called her a sinner and they called her a whore.
9 yrs ago
Soon, I will no longer be the lizard queen.
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Most Recent Posts
"No!" Nicholas yelled. "I-I mean-" he didn't finish. Instead, he shut his mouth and made a dash for the rifle. He'd briefly wondered if Alisa survived, but by the blood stains on Mattie's clothes, he could determine otherwise.
"I'm sorry mom," he mumbled as he loaded the rifle. He lifted it up and aimed for his mother's head, finger off the trigger. He made an annoyed tsk sound, because Mattie was in the way. Then, he figured he shouldn't get annoyed because she was trying to help him. So he aimed, waited, and fired.
Only to miss.
His mother turned around, not paying Mattie anymore mind. She started after him and he cursed under his breath, quickly and clumsily trying to re-load this stupid, ancient, one-shot rifle that he didn't even remember where he got it from. He backed up, successfully reloaded the rifle, and shot his...mother right in the head.
After being hit, the woman stopped walking. She swayed a bit, and her eyes changed. She looked at Nicholas with a pained expression and said, "Nicholas? Why are you hurting me?" before dropping to the ground.
"I'm sorry mom," he mumbled as he loaded the rifle. He lifted it up and aimed for his mother's head, finger off the trigger. He made an annoyed tsk sound, because Mattie was in the way. Then, he figured he shouldn't get annoyed because she was trying to help him. So he aimed, waited, and fired.
Only to miss.
His mother turned around, not paying Mattie anymore mind. She started after him and he cursed under his breath, quickly and clumsily trying to re-load this stupid, ancient, one-shot rifle that he didn't even remember where he got it from. He backed up, successfully reloaded the rifle, and shot his...mother right in the head.
After being hit, the woman stopped walking. She swayed a bit, and her eyes changed. She looked at Nicholas with a pained expression and said, "Nicholas? Why are you hurting me?" before dropping to the ground.
Nicholas found himself staring into the distance as he walked, barely listening to Mattie speak. He often did this when a story was being drawn out more than it needed to be, or when he could already guess what the person was going to say next. Mattie seemed to a be a fairly awkward person - overenthusiastic and...odd in her language. He kind of thought that she would play the awkward geek role perfectly in a modern sitcom.
"Uh-huh," he hummed, as a vague signal that he was still "listening" to her. "Yeah, these...these things are pretty smart. I watched them kill my dad. They didn't even have the desire to, like, eat him or anything." He turned and looked at her, walking backward. "They're not like what you see in the movies. They don't feed. They just...kill."
He shrugged. "So far, nobody in my group has gotten hurt," he said, once again failing to mention his mother's illness. "I think I already told you, it's just me and my sister and, uh, my mom right now."
As they approached the metal building, Nicholas gestured at the door. "It's not even locked, but none of them have tried to get in yet. It's like they're pushed away from this place. I dunno what it is." He looked around cautiously, "And it doesn't seem like any of them are around here, right now, at least."
He knocked on the door as a warning for his sister, "Alisa, it's me. I brought someone."
To be completely honest, leaving his little sister alone with his infected mother wasn't the best idea Nicholas had ever thought up. He thought giving the ten-year-old girl a rifle would be enough protection for her, even though she'd never used a firearm in her life. Still, it was a shock when he opened the doors only to be charged at by Alisa, who was now a member of the living dead, along with their mother.
"Oh, shit!" he gasped, instinctively lifting his leg and kicking her back as far as he could. "Oh God, oops. Alisa, I'm sorry. Oh my God," he put his hands to his face and pulled the doors shut again, but Alisa opened them right back up.
While he managed to duck past her and into the warehouse, now he had his mother to worry about. He looked back at Mattie and saw Alisa heading for her as well, and of course, his rifle was not conveniently placed where he could just grab it and kill. No, it was all the way across the room.
"Uh-huh," he hummed, as a vague signal that he was still "listening" to her. "Yeah, these...these things are pretty smart. I watched them kill my dad. They didn't even have the desire to, like, eat him or anything." He turned and looked at her, walking backward. "They're not like what you see in the movies. They don't feed. They just...kill."
He shrugged. "So far, nobody in my group has gotten hurt," he said, once again failing to mention his mother's illness. "I think I already told you, it's just me and my sister and, uh, my mom right now."
As they approached the metal building, Nicholas gestured at the door. "It's not even locked, but none of them have tried to get in yet. It's like they're pushed away from this place. I dunno what it is." He looked around cautiously, "And it doesn't seem like any of them are around here, right now, at least."
He knocked on the door as a warning for his sister, "Alisa, it's me. I brought someone."
To be completely honest, leaving his little sister alone with his infected mother wasn't the best idea Nicholas had ever thought up. He thought giving the ten-year-old girl a rifle would be enough protection for her, even though she'd never used a firearm in her life. Still, it was a shock when he opened the doors only to be charged at by Alisa, who was now a member of the living dead, along with their mother.
"Oh, shit!" he gasped, instinctively lifting his leg and kicking her back as far as he could. "Oh God, oops. Alisa, I'm sorry. Oh my God," he put his hands to his face and pulled the doors shut again, but Alisa opened them right back up.
While he managed to duck past her and into the warehouse, now he had his mother to worry about. He looked back at Mattie and saw Alisa heading for her as well, and of course, his rifle was not conveniently placed where he could just grab it and kill. No, it was all the way across the room.
@CLIW My replies may be hours apart for the next few days.
"I'd start eating bugs before I'd eat human meat," Nicholas cringed, following after her. "Um...I'd rather lead," he tried to say politely, though it came out a bit harsh. Regardless, he stepped in front of Mattie and decided it was best he didn't show any form of weakness. "You may be one more mouth to feed," he told her, "but you're also one more armed...person. To help kill the infected," he clarified, just in case she didn't understand.
It would only take them about ten or fifteen minutes to get back to the warehouse. In that time, there was a fifty percent chance they might encounter a living dead. Nicholas realized he hadn't brought any reliable weapons along, having left his rifle with his little sister. He glanced at Mattie's crowbar and hoped she hadn't noticed his own lack of a weapon. He was prone to last-minute decisions and disorganization. Preparations weren't his best suit.
"So, if you weren't bitten, what exactly did happen to your leg? You said it was to avoid being bitten..."
It would only take them about ten or fifteen minutes to get back to the warehouse. In that time, there was a fifty percent chance they might encounter a living dead. Nicholas realized he hadn't brought any reliable weapons along, having left his rifle with his little sister. He glanced at Mattie's crowbar and hoped she hadn't noticed his own lack of a weapon. He was prone to last-minute decisions and disorganization. Preparations weren't his best suit.
"So, if you weren't bitten, what exactly did happen to your leg? You said it was to avoid being bitten..."
Nicholas again peeked around the corner, then he shook his head. "I'm not looking for food," he said. "I'm looking for survivors. For help. I've got my sister and my mom down the street." He paused, unsure of what exactly he was going to tell this stranger. He knew he couldn't tell her of his mother's illness because that would decrease the chance of him recruiting her into his "group," as he thought of it. "You can come with us. We're in a warehouse. It's got plenty of tools and a bit of food."
He bit his lip and shook his bag in front of him. "I've got food in here, too. I've been going from house to house looking for people, and I've taken whatever food I found."
Stepping around the wall and holding his hand out toward the young woman, he asked, "What do you say? I'll help you to the building and we can take a look at your wound. I'm Nicholas."
He bit his lip and shook his bag in front of him. "I've got food in here, too. I've been going from house to house looking for people, and I've taken whatever food I found."
Stepping around the wall and holding his hand out toward the young woman, he asked, "What do you say? I'll help you to the building and we can take a look at your wound. I'm Nicholas."
"Uh...what?" Nicholas' eyebrows rose in shock. That was possibly the weirdest phrase he'd ever heard in his life. He peeked around the corner of the wall to his right and saw a young woman sitting on a couch with a makeshift bandage around her leg. He quickly retreated and felt an unwelcome adrenaline rush. "Oh God, you've been bitten."
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Basics
--------------------
Name: Nicholas Green
Age: 24
Birthday: June 10th
Gender: Male
Personality: Nicholas believes in strong, well-balanced teamwork. He usually tries to take a leadership role, but if someone showing more confidence and toughness than him comes along, he quickly falls behind. He doesn't say much, but once he gets talking, he can't stop.
Notable traits: Overprotective, sharp-witted
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Appearance
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General: Not the most handsome person, but not too hard on the eyes, either. He's got a pretty average weight and, due to the recent goings-on, a muscular build.
Skin tone: Tanned
Hair color: Light brown
Eye color: Dark brown
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 170lbs
Other: N/A
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Miscellaneous
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Biography: Before the disease began to spread in his hometown, Nicholas lived with his parents and ten-year-old sister. He worked as a roofer while attending college to work with computers. Since most of the residents in the town have become infected, he's taken refuge in a warehouse with his little sister and sick mother.
Equipment: On hand, two machetes, a combat knife, a rifle, a 24-pack of bottled water, various canned foods, and three blankets. Warehouse has various goods stocked.
Living relatives: Mother (Melinda), little sister (Alisa)
Other: He can lift, push, and pull up to 280lbs.
Basics
--------------------
Name: Nicholas Green
Age: 24
Birthday: June 10th
Gender: Male
Personality: Nicholas believes in strong, well-balanced teamwork. He usually tries to take a leadership role, but if someone showing more confidence and toughness than him comes along, he quickly falls behind. He doesn't say much, but once he gets talking, he can't stop.
Notable traits: Overprotective, sharp-witted
--------------------
Appearance
--------------------
General: Not the most handsome person, but not too hard on the eyes, either. He's got a pretty average weight and, due to the recent goings-on, a muscular build.
Skin tone: Tanned
Hair color: Light brown
Eye color: Dark brown
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 170lbs
Other: N/A
---------------------
Miscellaneous
---------------------
Biography: Before the disease began to spread in his hometown, Nicholas lived with his parents and ten-year-old sister. He worked as a roofer while attending college to work with computers. Since most of the residents in the town have become infected, he's taken refuge in a warehouse with his little sister and sick mother.
Equipment: On hand, two machetes, a combat knife, a rifle, a 24-pack of bottled water, various canned foods, and three blankets. Warehouse has various goods stocked.
Living relatives: Mother (Melinda), little sister (Alisa)
Other: He can lift, push, and pull up to 280lbs.
Nicholas dreaded each day he awakened to find that the world he was living in hadn't been just a passing nightmare. It had all started with a cough that was going around town. A lot of people had come down with it. Those infected would cough their lungs out, day and night. It spiraled into shudders, fevers, vomiting. Eventually, blood replaced those tears, sweat, and vomit. No doctor could put their finger on it. No doctor could cure it. Then, those proclaimed dead started walking. Nicholas had always heard people wishing for a zombie apocalypse, he had even wanted one himself. He never thought it would come true. It was supposed to be impossible.
Not everyone that got sick rose from the dead. In fact, not everyone that got sick died. There wasn't a known cure for it, you just kind of had to let it run its course. Like a cold, except there were no medicines to ease the symptoms. When Nicholas' mother got sick, he hoped and prayed that she would be one of the few who got better.
It had been long since he and his sister carried his mother to the warehouse not too far into town. Their home had begun to be surrounded by the living dead, and they just weren't safe there anymore. It wouldn't be long, he figured, before they came after them again. They would find them, he knew. He just knew he had to protect his mother and sister.
To say the least, he was terrified. He was actually surprised he had lived so long. He wasn't someone like in the movies. He didn't have perfect aim and martial arts skills. He just knew how to hide. He knew how to run.
The weirdest part was, the zombies (for lack of a better term) didn't even want to eat the people they killed. They just wanted to infect. They wanted more people like them. They didn't need to eat anything to survive. They didn't need anything to survive. They just had the desire to kill.
On a fairly cool morning in autumn, Nicholas woke his ten-year-old sister, Alisa, and handed her his rifle.
"I'm going to look for people," he told her in a soft voice. "People who actually know stuff to survive. Please, stay awake and look out for mom. Alright?"
Alisa had nodded groggily and watched as he left the warehouse.
He felt so guilty, leaving his little sister alone with his ill mother. The guilt and worry gnawed at his stomach, making it twist and turn until he felt like he might puke. The morning seemed to be the only time where none of the zombies could be found. He went door to door, looking through houses that were unlocked and leaving the locked ones untouched. He gathered whatever tools and food he could find. He came to a house that seemed to be falling apart.
The door creaked open slowly, hanging off its hinged. He knocked on it lightly and then quietly called out, "Anyone here? I'm, uh, I'm not a zombie..."
Not everyone that got sick rose from the dead. In fact, not everyone that got sick died. There wasn't a known cure for it, you just kind of had to let it run its course. Like a cold, except there were no medicines to ease the symptoms. When Nicholas' mother got sick, he hoped and prayed that she would be one of the few who got better.
It had been long since he and his sister carried his mother to the warehouse not too far into town. Their home had begun to be surrounded by the living dead, and they just weren't safe there anymore. It wouldn't be long, he figured, before they came after them again. They would find them, he knew. He just knew he had to protect his mother and sister.
To say the least, he was terrified. He was actually surprised he had lived so long. He wasn't someone like in the movies. He didn't have perfect aim and martial arts skills. He just knew how to hide. He knew how to run.
The weirdest part was, the zombies (for lack of a better term) didn't even want to eat the people they killed. They just wanted to infect. They wanted more people like them. They didn't need to eat anything to survive. They didn't need anything to survive. They just had the desire to kill.
On a fairly cool morning in autumn, Nicholas woke his ten-year-old sister, Alisa, and handed her his rifle.
"I'm going to look for people," he told her in a soft voice. "People who actually know stuff to survive. Please, stay awake and look out for mom. Alright?"
Alisa had nodded groggily and watched as he left the warehouse.
He felt so guilty, leaving his little sister alone with his ill mother. The guilt and worry gnawed at his stomach, making it twist and turn until he felt like he might puke. The morning seemed to be the only time where none of the zombies could be found. He went door to door, looking through houses that were unlocked and leaving the locked ones untouched. He gathered whatever tools and food he could find. He came to a house that seemed to be falling apart.
The door creaked open slowly, hanging off its hinged. He knocked on it lightly and then quietly called out, "Anyone here? I'm, uh, I'm not a zombie..."
First post. Messed up. Go. xD
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