OOC - Please Read: Hi everyone, it's been years or so since I've posted to the forums, or been on NS. Forgive me if this is posted in the wrong place, I merely caught the creative bug and would like to let it out in the form of Internet ink! If you so wish (and this is highly encouraged!), post your nation's citizens coming back to Epicnopolis for the first time in years after the pandemic, visiting relatives, deceased relatives, or whatever their business in Epicnopolis may be. You can take on the character of an Epicnopolian, for all I care. No need to ask, just post legibly and as if you have a brain.
OOC2(Did I do that right? lol): I can get graphic sometimes, I usually just follow the story and take the darkest route. Just a side-note for those interested.
No one had any idea of the hell that was too come. There was no warning, just flu-like like symptoms and the standard anti-biotic medicine dolled out to those in need. That was just before the dark times; before everything and everyone went to shit. This is the story of a nation that survived a hell like no other. This is the story of the last two years of life in Epicnopolis. Chronicled from the beginning January 2013 until the present time; this is the story of pain and suffering, of love and loss, and of a nation, hell-bent on getting back on its' feet.
January 1st, 2013
Shelby smiled, a joint in-between her middle and fore-finger, and a bottle of jack daniel's sitting pretty in her other. She gazed out before her, making herself comfy in her chair on the patio whilst enjoying the beautiful Epicnopolian sky on this particularly wonderful New Year's Eve night - even if she didn't know anyone at the party.
Snow was all around, and the temperatures were frigid cold - but this didn't stop the party-goers from venturing their way outside.
She glanced to her left, catching a drunken group of not-so-fine young gentlemen eyeballing her like prized cattle. She looked away, reaching up to rub the back of her neck rather nervously, only realizing until it was too late that she had a joint in that hand, and was apparently intent on burning herself with it.
"YOW!" The attractive young blonde yelped, as she dropped the prized smoke into the snow. A small red ring appeared on the back of her neck as she winced. Unfortunately, her 'smoke break' coincided with everyone else's, and they were either too fucked up to notice the scream of pain or they simply did not care. Shelby, after all, was new to this particular group of people. She only knew her dorm-mate, Jessica, who had disappeared into an upstairs bedroom with God knows who about an hour or two ago. That wasn't Shelby's thing. She was pretty, not a slut. There was a fucking difference.
"Woah! Party foul!" A not-so-gentlemanly gentleman said in perhaps the most douchetastic way imaginable. This particularly average-looking bloke stumbled not-so-gracefully across the patio, bumping into several people on his way to pick up the fallen joint.
"That's…that's mine." Shelby said. She, of course, was also intoxicated, though she was rather experienced, and she had the reputation for drinking like a sailor. Her mind may have been hers, but her body language was not.
With a loud plop! The drunken man, who couldn't have been more than Twenty-One, (the drinking age in Epicnopolis is Eighteen, but nobody cares, and, well, no one really enforces it) sat onto the swinging chair next to Shelby, sending the wooden masterpieces back-and-forth, back-and-forth, causing the aforementioned lovely lady to sway slightly, nearly falling off of the chair in the process. Maybe I've had too much to drink?
"That's miiiiiiine." Shelby said, unsuccessfully trying to grab the joint before the man did.
"If y'bring it out, y'must share it!" His accent was thick. He was from the south. Great. Without asking, he stuck the unlit side into his mouth, and re-lit the sucker - sucking in the great white smoke all the while. He held it in for a moment, before hitting it again, then handing it back to Shelby with a cheeky smile and smoke billowing out of his mouth. "The names' Arnie. Arnie Woodmenchesterburg." He laughed loudly, as did his friends, who were not too far away.
Great, their fucking with me. Shelby took back her joint, not waiting for 'Arnie' to give it back. She stood up with a loud huff, before stumbling slightly, and falling back on the chair. I am definitely done for tonight, oh God. With half-closed eyes, she looked at her joint. Suddenly, a question thought popped into her head. This isn't mine! I didn't buy it, my stash is in… She blinked several times, unsure of her surroundings.
"Hey, you alright?" Arnie asked.
Slowly, Shelby's crystal blue eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her head turned slowly, so that the man before her only saw the whites' of her eyes. Nothing happened for a few moments.
"A -- …Are you okay?" Arnie asked, unnerved by the lack of pupils in his newest conversation buddy.
Without warning, Shelby's threw her head backward, and let out a guttural wail not unlike that of a banshee. Suddenly, her pupils returned, yet they were a different color this time - orange, to be exact, and red as hell - and not just because she was high as a kite.
By now, everyone had gathered around Shelby, and Arnie had decisively moved away from her in drunken anticipation of what was to come.
There would be no living survivors at the party.
March 14th, 2013
Area Unknown, Likely Manipola, located on Ayvice (one of Epicnoplis' three islands)
Where am I? Shelby slowly opened her eyes, she felt groggy, and it took a great deal of effort to open her eyes. Very quickly, she realized that her entire body was restrained to a gurney, in a literal padded cell, like the ones' from an Asylum.
An asylum? Whaaa -- ?
"She's waking up!"
Who's waking up? Shelby found herself unable to speak. In fact, she found herself unable to part her lips. Did…did she still have lips?
"Quickly, sedate her! The protocol hasn't taken effect… Her eyes! Their still golden!"
Huh? …Why…why do I have a hunger for human flesh?
"Applying the sedative."
Br - …braaaaaaains….
March 20th, 2013
Shelby, once again with great effort, opened her eyes. To her surprise and confusion, she was unrestrained. With a weak, and fragile voice that would usually only be heard from a newborn. She croaked into the silence, "Hello?"
With great effort she craned her head toward the right. To her immediate relief, and by the grace of God himself, the door to her padded cell was wide open. But she still had so many questions. What am I doing here? Why can't I remember anything? Where the fuck is here?
Remembering what her doctor's told her when she was diagnosed with scoliosis, she used her arms, then her hands, to prop herself into sitting position. Only then did her stomach start to rumble, and rumble it did. Shelby proceeded to projectile vomit what appeared to be green goo from her mouth, mixed with blood.
She coughed violently after, eyes stemming with tears - not from fear, but from pain. Her entire body, she realized, was absolutely drenched in sweat, her clothes - more aptly, her hospital night-gown, clung to her most uncomfortably.
"Hello?!" She yelled, this time with more force. She found no answer.
Shelby stripped herself of the night-gown, letting her body flow free with the wind, or lack thereof - yet what she saw all over her reminded her not of her body, but of a heroin addicts' body. Track marks littered her arms, long legions lined her legs, and what looked to be receding boils existed very quietly on her belly. She felt sick to her stomach, and promptly puked at the site of her own body.
What happened to me?!
Panic began to set in. Where was she? Why couldn't she remember anything? Why was no one at the hospital with her?
Her eyes perked up, and she began to hear the slowly movement of footsteps outside her door. There was no cadence to these footsteps, it reminded her of the sound of drunken men, trying to get to their room, only to accidentally find themselves in her bed (it had happened on more than one occasion).
First, came the site of the skeletal leg. It was like something from the Pirates of the Caribbean, if not slightly less pronounced, and there was just simply quite a bit more rotting flesh. And it smelled.
Shelby's mouth opened, as she was simply in too much shock to scream, or to say anything. For now, the figure before her couldn't really be seen, as it was covered in dark black hair that cascaded from its' head, all the way to its' ass. Slowly, meticulously, the figure moved, facing Shelby with its' beady, orange eyes.
The creature through its' head back and let out a shrill wail, replicating that of a banshee's. In seconds, Shelby's confusion was gone, as she became a part of the creature's meal plan. Come to think of it, Shelby was gone too. Killed viscously by the literal jaws of death, by an enemy bred in the foulest depths of hell.
Fucking vampires.
August 28th, 2013
Gunnery Chief Jeff Abrams really, really was starting to hate his job.
For Twelve hours a day, until he got his break, Jeff had one job: Keep the infected from breaching the great city of Castin, the Capital of Epicnopolis, located on Ayvice. Nukyth had gone dark in early July, and it was rumored heavily that a resistance was brewing up in the once darkened island of Syles. For now, Ayvice, the largest and most prominent of the Epicnopolian islands, belonged to the living. But that could change the moment the infected realized their numbers by far outweighed those of the living.
Another in my sights. The Gunnery Chief exhaled slowly, and set the sights of his Sniper Rifle on the head of a wandering Zombie. Click. Boom. Headshot. Luckily for the Epicnopolian's, they figured out quickly that sound gathered the dead faster than bees to honey, so all weapons were outfitted with suppressors.
There were two main enemies; the zombies, and the vampires.
Th vampires moved quick, and seemed to be the result of the first-generation of the infected. A bite from a Vampire gave you anywhere from 5 to 48 hours until you changed into a mindless, walking husk - a true 'undead.' These undead moved slower than the Vampires, who ran at three times the speed of an average human, while the zombies simply moseyed about, looking for some flesh to gnaw on.
When this is over, I'm moving to Wikipedia and Universe. Fucking zombies…this is bullshit! The Gunnery Chief brooded as he loaded another clip. Without warning, a cardboard box loaded with ammo fell over, and onto the ground, below the barricade. "Great," the soldier muttered to himself. He hoped off his platform, and onto the ground, putting all the ammo back into the box.
The Epicnopolian's had essentially built a wall around Castin, an order made by the Queen in an attempt to keep her city and people safe.
This was all about to change.
Jeff looked up when he first heard the noise. It sounded a little bit like a group of people talking to one another, until he realized, with a chill running down his spine, that these were not people. Slowly, and with care, he proceeded to peak his head over the wall. In the minute he had been down below the wall, hundreds upon hundreds of the dead had amassed in the square outside the wall. He blinked, only to have the head of a zombie pop up before him.
Strange, however, that his last thought before his head was taken off by the female zombie was that, "Once upon a time, this was a person, and likely an unattractive young lady at that."
But none of that mattered, even as Jeff Abrams became food for dozens of zombies, hundreds more came cascading over the wall, reading to march toward the City and Crystal Palace - the residence of the Queen herself.
The following note is dated as 'December 25th, 2013…Merry Christmas.
The following is an audio file, with the voice of a woman - probably in her late 40's
"The dead have made their way into Castin, Ayvice has fallen. No word from Syles, and of course there's no word from Nukyth…Nukyth went dark months ago. I wish I could have said goodbye to all my friends…my husband. Anyway…
I might have done it. I might have synthesized a cure. I…I'm not even sure if there's enough people left to cure. Or if it even matters. I don't have any test subjects, unless I were to leave the safety of this lab…but I'm no soldier. I could never apprehend one of those…those things and bring them in here. I'd get bit, and Epicnopolis would possibly lose its' last chance at survival.
The math is all there…there's no reason why this wouldn't work…I just wish I could test it.
…Merry Christmas."
The following is an Audio File, dated as February 14th, 2014. The same woman's voice is heard from this audio excerpt.
"I've been alone here for months…and I almost don't want to believe it, but a group of travelers stopped by an hour or two ago, and none of them were infected! After a brief chat, they told me they would bring me my test subject…we'll know soon enough if I can save this once great Country…"
The next recording is dated mere hours after the prior.
"It's…it's almost too much for me to handle." In the background, sounds of cheering and toasting can be heard. "I…the test subject they brought in showed signs of progress within twenty minutes, before almost returning back to his normal self. Cognitive function is his own, and he no longer has the desire for human flesh, I gave him a banana, and it was like watching a monkey eat for the first time. I think…for the first time in forever, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. I feel the worst is over. I will be applying my antidote to as many bullets as I can, and will continue to mass-produce it….Just maybe we will all be talking about how once upon a time we were all zombies, only to be saved by the great scientist Gena Ackerman.
A woman can dream, right?"
In the year of what is most often simply called 'The Plague', Epicnopolis nearly lost half its' population to the deadly virus. Only recently, and for the first time since February '13, Epicnopolis is accepting incoming flights - with care. As well as once more beginning to import and export goods. The process of burning the dead is almost over, though the streets are clean. There hasn't been a 'sighting' in over three months.
It appears the worst of it is over, and now there is nothing to do but rebuild this once great nation.
