| 100 Nights of Blood | :: Zombie/Survival RP

Subject: | 100 Nights of Blood | :: Zombie/Survival RP Sat Aug 09, 2008 6:35 pm

One Hundred Nights Of Blood
A Surv. Horror/Action/Drama RP
A MixedPplAreSoFly Productions

The world is dead, and you're all alone...

Like so many epidemics before, the loss of lives that followed began with a single microscopic organism. It's human nature to try and see even the smallest logic or reason behind events as catastrophic as this, but a virus does not care what time or place it is. It does not hate or choose its victims. It just...happened.

CLICK FOR PROFILES

| 100 Nights of Blood | :: Zombie/Survival RP 2s1ljdh

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Year 2008...

December 12th, 9:36 pm:
A young woman was brought in Mt. Moon Memorial Hospital, rushed into the emergency ward after suffering massive bloodloss from a deep bite wound on her left bicep. Friends claimed that a deranged hobo leper attacked her as they exited a nightclub through the backdoors, taking a 'chunk' of her before they managed to fend the man off. The cops that tried to subdue the man reported the same observations, with the hobo trying to take a "bite out of [them]" as one of the cops reported. They had no choice but to put down the attacker. Coroner that autopsied the hobo's corpse claimed that the man possessed unusually large canines for a human and that the man's muscle structure resembles more of an ape.

"He's too built for a man deprived of food for most of his life!": Peter Welker, Coroner of Mt. Moon Memorial

December 13th, 12:41 am:
The victim started experiencing minor convulsions and profuse foaming of the mouth. It was dismissed as early signs of rabies, but blood tests suggested otherwise. In fact it showed that the woman should be in perfect health...

December 13th, 12:56 am:
Victim flatlined for an approximate time of 8 minutes. Doctors pronounced time of death at 1:04 am and it was said that the victim pulled a "Lazarus" and came back to life all by herself. Doctors and nurses alike all claimed a medical miracle.

December 13th, 1:43 am:
Open sores and boil-like blemishes started appearing on the woman's skin. Doctors still can't find anything wrong with the woman, even after various bloodtests and DNA swabs. Another attack of seizure occured, this time violent enough for the doctors to decide administering sedatives on the victim.

December 13th, 2:45 am:
Victim started convulsing once more, this time as a nurse tried to sedate her, she managed to maul the woman, who got out with scratches and bites all over her forearms before security managed to harness the girl. Doctors finally decided to euthanize the obviously delirious girl, afraid that she might contain a new strain of virus unknown to mankind.

December 13th 3:23 am:
Rebecca Walker, the injured nurse of Mt. Moon Memorial was treated for the wounds inflicted on her. It was requested that she be quarantined at home at the moment, that she would be put under observation.

December 13th 7:52 am:
A young woman flatlined in the emergency room of Mt. Moon, her name was Rebecca Walker......

...And the ground you step on shall be reduced to nothing but ashes and dust

Heaven's Crossing, New York

In a last ditch effort to save itself, the surviving population of North America and other countries decided to barricade themselves within a walled island city named Heaven's Crossing. It was first designed as a man-made island getaway just off the coast of New York for the rich, surrounded on all sides by seawater and bordered by 40 feet high metal walls in case non-land owners tried to tresspass the privacy of the city. The walls came into much good use when the infestation started, and now those who have managed to survive the plague have now made Heaven's Crossing their new home. A feudal-like government system has developed within Heaven's Crossing: the rich against the poor with the remnants of the Army and local militia keeping everything at bay. The walls are well protected, with guards posted to patrol the lines 24 hours a day and motion-sensing .50 cal machinegun turrets set up at every 20 feet of the wall. Basically it is impregnable for the pea-brained flesh-eaters that are walking outside the walls of Heaven's Crossing. There is only one possible way that anyone can get in and out of the fortress city and it is through the main gate. Outside it is the bridge that connects the island to the rest of New York city. Once awhile the gate is opened to allow a small band of people called the 'scavengers' access back into the city in the purpose of acquiring resources such as food, fuel and various other amenities that humans need. Though there are no signs that resources will run out soon within the city, it was still decided upon that the people should stock up just in case anything goes awry.

The Rules & Regulations

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[ I ] You shall follow my lead. Do not disobey anything I say or I will definitely put you in the black list.

[ II ] Know what an advanced literate RP is. Enough said...

[ III ] Send me your audition forms through PM using the profile skeleton with the PM title of "100 Nights"

[ IV ] No fixed story line. You must add into the story to help this roleplay grow.

[ V ] Realism is the key for a good roleplay. Do something super extraordinarily unrealistic (kill a thousand zombies with one slice of a sword kind of thing) and think that you will be rewarded for it then you are in for a rude awakening.

[ VI ] When posting, please put the header "Concerns Character #..." and put the assigned character numbers to indicate that the events that your post contains concerns those mentioned on the header. Let's say you are typing in that a zombie is about to attack another character that is not yours and is controlled by a user, put the user's character number on the header.

THE CHARACTER CLASSES & POSITIONS

The human civilization is trying to survive, maybe even rebuild itself. And a civilization needs people of different skills and abilities to prosper...

Just like in reality, people have different jobs and responsibilities in order to keep society running. I am about to list and discuss the different classes that the people of Hundred Nights Of Blood belong into:

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--Vanguards
The remains of Earth's warriors. Made up of former soldiers, cops, mercenaries and even gun-toting civilians, they are in charge of the protection of the "cities" and those who live within them. They can usually be seen patrolling the borders to make sure that none of the monstrosities outside can get in or accompanying Gatherers when going outside.

They are equipped heavily with the latest available firepower and armor, since they would be the ones always in the thick of the battle with the Infected. They have full access to any available weapons, vehicles and tools in order to avoid hassles when emergencies arise.

Positions/Occupations:

Berserkers - They charge into where the enemies are at their thickest, dwindling down as much as they can using their high-caliber machineguns and/or automatic rifles.

Scouts - Always in the front and farthest from the group, looking ahead to check for any signs of danger that the rest may encounter. Equipped to run and gun, carrying light automatic weapons such as submachine guns. Also they are the carriers of the group's GPS, radar systems and maps as they are the ones most familiar with the terrain.

Grenadier - Explosives expert of the group. Anything that requires to be leveled with gunpowder, he's the man to talk to.

Eagle Eyes - Marksmen that also double as point men in gathering missions. They use their sniper scopes to scout for hostiles and 'take point', warning the rest of the group of and take out the oncoming danger even before scouts can detect them most of the times. They are equipped with semi-automatic rifles like the standard scoped M14 or even the Barett 'Cheyenne' .50 cal anti-tank sniper rifles.

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--Gatherers
Fast, agile, tenacious: these are the qualities needed to be a Gatherer. Just like the name, their jobs are to salvage and gather anything that can be found outside the camps. They must be quick for the job, considering it doesn't take much time for the Infected to pick up the scent of the living and eventually attack. Thus they are lightly armed, usually packing only a small sub-machine gun or a high powered pistol. They do not wear the tactical armor that Vanguards wear for their jobs do not specify them to fight; their job is to run and gun and come back alive with food and tools.

Positions/Occupations:

Looters - They are the Gatherers whose task is to enter buildings and scavenge them for whatever is useful like food and tools. Due to the high risks of their job they are permitted to carry heavy weaponry such as automatic rifles and even grenades (though very limited). They are always seen paired up with at least one Vanguard Berserker.

Lockpicks - A small group dedicating most of their days off by practicing breaking into vaults and locks, just like their names suggest. They are extremely valuable during missions for they can get the whole group inside any locked establishment and can quickly open locked doors in case the group gets cornered in a locked room filled with hostiles.

Dishhead - Probably the second most valuable member of a Gathering crew, they are the radiomen and communications specialist. They are the ones also that take down the logs of the group's mission, writing down everything he or she observed during the whole thing for documentation later on once the mission is over.

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--Engineers
The intellectually gifted in anything mechanical or structural. Engineers are the backbone of the 'cities', in charge of running factories, powerplants and the repairing or designing of machines. When out in gathering missions they are the ones piloting vehicles since they are familiar with machines better than any other of the classes. They travel with little or no armor, equipped very lightly (and even stingy, some even choose not to have a weapon at all), packing only a pistol most of the time.

Positions/Occupations:

Mechanic - Just like an everyday mechanic, they are the experts when it came to machinery. From making an old piece of junk car start again up to designing a brand new machine from scraps of metal, that's the range of their great talents.

Industrial Engineer - Caretakers and forerunners of the city factories. Their main job is the maintenance and repairs of factory machines, making sure that everything is running smoothly.

Hog Runner - Dubbed Hog Runners due to the fact that most of these drivers pilot the APC vehicles that everyone had come to call Hogs. Very skilled at driving or piloting anything; may it be a motorcycle or even an airbus.

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--Citizens
Just like any normal person in the real world. They live their lives inside the encampments either by being farmers or working in one of the factories and such.

Positions/Occupations:

Farmers - The city needs to feed its slowly growing population and to do that they need some sort of steady source of food. Since the virus does not affect vegetation, vegetables have easily thrived. Thus now farmers are needed to take care of these resources.

Caretakers - They are the ones that manage the distribution of the obviously limited (though currently abundant) resources that the city has. They can be seen manning the Armory offices and the Food Supply distribution centers. Responsibilities include tallying the amount of current resources, tagging new items for future references and granting permission on resource access especially in the Armories.

Quacks (Doctors) - The tailor and seamstress of humans, they patch up anyone who is in need of getting medical attention. They also double as the city scientists, devoting their free time in studying the virus in its many forms.

Big Cats (Politicians/Council Members) - A society needs leaders to function and these people are that. Their responsibilities range from deciding upon locations of expansions that can be made on the city to deciding the next target of Gathering missions. Any decision or strategic move that requires heavy planning then the Big Cats are the ones to approach.

The Profiles

**USE PICS OF REAL PEOPLE WHEN LINKING PICTURES, NO ANIME!**

CLICK FOR ACCEPTED PROFILES

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Code:: [size=10]
[b]Character Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Height:[/b]
[b]Body Type:[/b]
[b]Eye/Hair/Skin Color:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
(Description of how character's manner of dressing, etc)

[b]Occupation:[/b]
(Check occupation list for more info)

[b]Equipment:[/b]
(Each character can have at least 3 weapons plus limited equipment)

[b]Other Info:[/b]

| Setting |

Month:
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec

Day:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31

Year:
2008 2009 2010 2011

Weather:
Sunny Rainy Hot Cold Humid Dry Clear Cloudy

Season:
Spring Summer Fall Winter

Other Info:
Another day...do you still have the courage to live?

Be careful fighting the monsters, lest you become one...

P R O L O G U E

December 24, 2008...

"Christmas Eve...

Scattered reports of violent, brutal attacks are surfacing from all over the world. All are grizzly, all are random and all have one thing in common. The ones who get attacked die within the next hour or so...

Only to rise up again...

They said it was an epidemic, a new strain of some virus that brought the dead back to life...

...and to feed upon the living.

They also said that it was created by the government. Others say it was from outer space while others suggested it was some ancient virus that has surfaced to wipe out the human race just like the Ice Age wiping out the ancient animals of this world...

Others say it's God's way of punishing us. That the souls in hell are just too many to keep that they didn't have any room for them anymore. Thus why the dead are allowed to walk once again.

Whatever it is, it's slowly defeating us. And our numbers are dwindling by the second..."

- US Army Master Sergeant Carrie Duvall's last voice log before Operation Crimson Tears

"...to be honest I'm about to pee badly!", yelled out a middle-aged pot-bellied man as his hands busily fumbled with a heavy-duty lock. Followed by a series of profuse swearing, the robust man spat out a goo of spit. Around him are five heavily armored men, all of them sporting military gear except the one playing with the locks of what could only be a door. He's wearing a casual Hawaiian print dress shirt (heavily tattered though) and jean pants, which means only one thing, he's a civilian...

"Can you keep it down Greg? Fuckin' all the Walkers will hear us man...", one of the soldiers murmured to the lockpicker, and with a quick tap to the shoulder of the fat man he went quiet. They are standing right outside a supermarket store, abandoned as it seems judging from the boarded up windows and the bolted door that the group is super busy busting open.

A howl came out of the nighttime darkness, sending the whole group to freeze in the midst of their movement. Sweat dribbled down the fat man's forehead, eventually one of the beads hitting the corner of his eye. Sending a stinging sensation, the pain sent the lockpicker back into reality. This time he worked in a frenzied state, tugging at the chains that wrapped around the doorhandle of the store.

"Come on you piece of shit! GRAH!"

Click...

And down the lock and chains went...

"Alpha team! Move in! Hernandez take point, everyone silencers on! Nightvision engaged! Clean sweep!", a soldier blared out when he noticed that the doors had been unlocked. Greg quickly stepped out of the path of the armored men. A tall man, most likely the one named Hernandez, stepped forward. While the rest of the soldiers busily plugged their gun barrels with silencers, Hernandez strapped on goggles with lenses brightly lit with green light. So did the rest of the men after finishing up with their guns. Everyone readied their weapons, even Greg, pointing all their firepower at the one door where Hernandez is standing right in front of. With two deep breathes, Hernandez reached out for the doorhandle, cautiously pulling it.

Pitch black...

It was what greeted the men...

"You see anything Hernandez?", again the same man who commanded the group. "Nothing sarge...", replied Hernandez right before he stepped into the dark opening. The sounds of cracking plastic and rustling paper is what all the men could hear while Hernandez checked the inside of the store.

"Coast is clear boss..."

"Ok team! Clean up the stocks! Take everything that the City can use! Morales and Nicholai! With me! Let's check the back rooms for fuel or even better...a GENERATOR!"

"Hoorah!"

---

"Jesus Sarge, what do you think got him....?", a soldier asked, stitched on the front right breast pocket of his army jacket was the name DeLuca. He was a young one, barely any sign of facial hair on the youth's smooth teen-aged face and not a hint of wrinkles. "I don't know Deli...Walkers don't do this shit...", the sergeant blurted out as he spat to his left side. The two were hunched in front of a corpse inside what could only be the stock room of the store. The corpse was of a man, broad-shouldered and thick-necked. At least as far as the two soldiers can tell the man HAD a thick neck...all that was left is a stump with no head attached. A large pool of blood coated the tiled flooring, some of the fluids seeping through the paper that littered the ground...flyers for deals in the store.

"This corpse is fresh...blood is still pouring out of the veins of this piece of meat. Whatever got him, is either still inside this store...or has a way in and out of the store other than the door we went through. Have the rest of the men be ready to move out in less than 5 minutes kay DeLuca?"

"Copy that boss..."

The teen quickly hopped up to his feet and ran out of the room, easily weaving around the downed shelves and spilled items that block the path out. Silence became the Sarge's companion when the boy's footsteps died out...

That is up until he heard the soft growl coming from behind him...

Muscles tensing, adrenaline flowed through his veins with each pump his heart sent. Everything seemed to be in slow-motion to the man as his left forefinger slid around the hair trigger of his rifle. Another low, throaty growl. Wet...as if the thing had a bad case of phlegm coating its mouth. Or blood...

He whipped around, the corner of his eyes catching the glimpse of something as he lifted up his rifle to eye-level. When his eyesight focused on what the thing was, the man almost threw up. It was hideous...actually that was an understatement. The man's brain couldn't register anything at the moment. He couldn't decide if he should run and call for help, or to unload his whole clip at the creature. The creature by the way would have looked like a man to anyone when glimpsed at first without formal scrutiny. But closer inspection would reveal otherwise. The thing had the shape of a man alright, a shirtless man. Except that on the protusion that was supposed to be its head, there was nothing. No hair, no ears, no eyes...nothing. Just smooth, milky white skin...looking more like a giant pale nipple. The mouth that was making the growling noises was located...on its belly. And instead of opening vertically like a giant mouth, it opened sideways, a giant vagina which by the way no one will not want to penetrate. For along its walls, are razor sharp teeth which are churning something that looks like the remains of a chewed up head.

Well I found your head for you man...

It was a Mexican stand-off, both opponents looking (well only one of them has eyes to be exact) at each other, cautiously waiting for the other to make a move. None dared to start anything...both were silent........

Footsteps from outside the room...

"SARGE! SARGE! SA-What in fuckin'...", it was DeLuca, the one that the sergeant had called DeLi, the same boy who was investigating the dead body with him. Standing upon the doorway with mouth agape, the monster turned its attention on the shocked soldier. "DeLuca RUN!!!", it was all the older warrior shouted as he snapped his rifle into eye level, pointing it at the thing. He pressed the trigger, spraying bullets as he continued to drive the boy away who now became the monster's new fixation.

But the monstrosity wasn't even phased by the heavy firepower hitting it, in fact it just continued to charge recklessly on DeLuca who just stood frozen in complete shock. "DeLi nooooo!", that was the last thing the boy heard, right before darkness took over him...

----

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The repeating noise made by a small black box woke him up from his sleep. It was a phone on the nightstand beside the bed he was sleeping on. It continued its beeping tirade, causing the man to sit upright as he reached for the object. Soft fabric slid off his torso as he sat up, clicking a bunch of buttons on the phone before groggily mumbling a "Hello".

"Major Enrie Kennedy, please report to the barracks immediately. We have a mission for you..."

"Copy that..."

"Emily..."

Silence.

"Emily...."

More silence.

"Alright, I know you're awake..."

"No I'm not."

"Hey! You just spoke!"

"No I didn't..."

Sometimes, confusing a blond was easy. The room was dark, as it was outside her window too. There was a tall blond girl blinking with a confused in her green eyes, staring down at the crumpled mass that was known as Emily. Clothing was strew along the half of the bed that no one slept on. A line of guns were on her wall, covered in dust, the ammunition in piles in the corners of the room. The mass known as Emily shifted, it sat up, blankets fell away from a half nude body. Strawberry blond locks were curling in awkward ways around a pale face, spotted lightly with orange freckles, bright baby blues were semi-open, traces of day old mascara on her cheeks and pillow. Emily scratched at her showing thigh, yawning loudly and hiccuping back a belch. She kicked the blankets from her legs and stepped onto the ground. She wore shorts and a much to small tank top that hugged her curvy body. Emily continued to scratch at her leg, catching loose skin on an open wound, yanking it off by mistake, as blood started to trickle down her leg.

"Awe, taubernache de merde..." her muttering was very quiet, striding past the blond on her scarred legs, she made her way into the make-shift bathroom, hoisting her leg into the 'sink' she reaching into a cup board and very lazily started to cover hr wound, the blond followed her, leaning on the door frame, watching the other girl.

Using a piece of paper towel, Emily wiped away from of the gushing blood, applying pressure for a few moments as she unscrewed a tube of poly-sporin and dabbing around the wound, and pulling a band-aid over it quickly. "So... how are you getting all these things? Bruises, cuts, etcetera?"

"I dropped something."

"Something..?"

"An axle."

"Hot damn! You--"

"Fuck off, I don't need your stupid ass comments on my height, woman." Emily flicked her leg down and slaundered off into her bedroom, pulling on some loose clothing, her work clothes before tying her hair up in a loose bun and walking from the building. It was a mere shack, nothing fancy about it, at all. Emily didn't even bother to glance back when the blond girl (yes, she didn't know her name, as she ignored her most of the time) started to yell at her for not bringing food to work. The boys fed her, she was fine.

"Emily." A deep and flirty voice as she walked into her work place. Ah, the smell of men sweating and oil, she felt at home. "Have I ever told you, you look sexy in that... but even better without?"

"Every day 'hun. Now where's my baby?"

A Looter always assumed the worst kind of risk, even worse than most of the particular classes he was assigned to. One of the things someone had to be was light on their feet, quick on the trigger and know every single damn nook and cranny of where the group is as well as keeping a sharp eye on any provisions that he came across. The motto for this spot was this. If it looks usable, grab it and get the fuck outta there with the quickness before someone else gets it.

For Vincent Cooper, he knew all of these risks. But with the kind of physicality he possesed, it looked as though he was more than prepared for the job he was assigned to.

For now, Vincent was out walking around the camp, dressed in his usual street attire, but went nowhere without both his military ID... and his rifle, which was strapped to his back. The look on Vincent's face as he continued walking about was one of focus, almost knowing deep down in his bones that there would be a mission coming up soon. In all honesty, he couldn't help but be a lttle jittery about it. After all, he was now a part of a team that lost one of their own some time ago, so he had every right to be thinking hard about this.

In a matter of exactly 20 minutes and 34 seconds of waiting, someone came up from behind him, tapping Vincent on the shoulder. Vincent spun around and spotted a fellow comrade looking at him with a smile on his face.

"Jesus, man. Ya trying to scare me half to fuckin' death out here?" Vincent scowled at him.

"Not my intention, big man," The comrade spoke to him, patting Vincent on the shoulder. "But there's something that concerns you. You need to head over to the barracks right away."

"What about?" Vincent retorted, narrowing his eyes at him.
"I dunno. Go find out for yourself." He answered before departing with a smirk and a wave of his hand.

Vincent still had his brown irises narrowed at the fellow soldier long after he departed then shook his head. "Whatever." He muttered to himself as he then began to lumber off towards the barracks as per his instructions.

» Post-Apocalyptic Zombie RP anyone?
» Blood Past, Foster Future
» Blood wants a master and a rough roleplay {M/F M/M }
» [ Hundred Years of Blood ] :: Profiles
» You Better Pretend 'Cause Life Is Harsher Than It Looks {&& Black Blood}