OUTBREAK (Survival, Reboot) - OOC / Hiatus

[Theyra]

That would be meta gaming OOC knowledge if their character wasn't physically there at the time of the incident.

Of course, but word may spread.

There are three people I think at that place and most people are armed with something.... is your char going shoot at everyone that is armed?

[Kaidou]

Name
Edward Herbert Gordon Sterling
E. H. G. Sterling

AKA
"Alexander Lanes" (pen name)

Nationality
American (formerly a UK citizen)

(He still uses British spelling, nonetheless)

Ethnicity
English (i.e. white)

Age/DOB
64 (Birthday: 17 February, 1951)

Pic/Description

Edward Sterling's usual attire consists of a dress shirt, a tie, a tweed jacket and tweed trousers, matched with a pair of brown leather shoes. During hot weather, he prefers to roll his sleeves up.

Height: 182cm
Weight: 72kg
Eye colour: Greyish-blue
Hair colour: Silver (with a few streaks of dark brown)

Occupation
Author: Under the pseudonym "Alexander Lanes", Sterling has published several novels, of various genres.

One of these novels includes, interestingly, stories about contagion; having had to do research on diseases for that particular novel (i.e. interviewing doctors and public health experts, walking around hospitals, etc), Sterling has a wide knowledge of infection and disease control, and as such, has a decent amount of knowledge on the subject.

Novels by E. H. G. Sterling "Alexander Lane"

- 11 o'clock Mist: Comedy, Romance, Drama (308 pages)
- Egg of the Black Changthangi: Psychological, Medical, Drama (296 pages)
- Broken Flowerpot: Psychological, Tragedy, Drama (404 pages)
- The Annihilation Adventures of Alvin Crawford: Absurdist, Occult, Tragedy (250 pages)
- Millipede Ouroboros: Psychological, Historical, War (711 pages)

Immunity
Immune: Despite enjoying an immunity status many in the new world seek for, Sterling's immunity to the virus came at a viciously twisted price; he was forced to watch his wife and his two daughters rot away and lose their minds while he could do nothing, neither able to help nor to empathise.

Equipment
- Foldable fireplace poker: In the interest of self defence, Sterling carries this with him wherever he goes, hiding it inside his briefcase. A metre in length (about 3.3 feet), it has two hinges and, as such, can be folded to about a third of its length, allowing for easy concealment in a bag. Upon the descent of his family into total madness, Sterling took to brandishing his weapon openly in the hope of deterring potential muggers.

- iPhone 3: It can't call, text, or connect to the internet anymore, but Sterling carries it around nonetheless, because it has almost a thousand pictures of him and his family in happier times.

- iPod Nano (with charging wire and adapter): Sterling owns an iPod containing a number of heavy metal songs, a few Wagner extracts, and the complete soundtrack of How to Train Your Dragon. The battery lasts much longer than he expects.

- Reading glasses: Sterling requires glasses to read books with smaller fonts.

- A copy of the Holy Bible: 1,427 (very thin) pages, hardcover. NKJV translation. Though he's not a Christian, Sterling finds the text of the Bible comforting and fascinating to read nonetheless.

- A copy of Egg of the Black Changthangi: 296 pages, paperback. Sterling's second novel, published under the pseudonym "Alexander Lane". It tells the story of a doctor and a nurse living in an unnamed third world country, and their efforts to control a disease outbreak.

- A copy of Broken Flowerpot: 404 pages, paperback. Sterling's third novel. The story follows Ken, a young university student who seeks revenge after his life is ruined when his single-parent mother is killed by a flowerpot falling from an apartment balcony.

- A copy of Brave New World: 388 pages, paperback. Arguably Aldous Huxley's magnum opus.

- A copy of How to Train Your Dragon: 212 pages, hardcover. The first book in Cressida Cowell's children's book series of the same name.

- Five bottles of GTN: To control his angina, Sterling has to take medication regularly.

- Large black leather briefcase: Gucci.

Skills
- Basic armed self defence: With his fireplace poker, Sterling can fight off common thieves and infected individuals to a certain extent. Without it, on the other hand... not so much.

- Powers of observation: As a result of his constant need for inspiration, Sterling has developed a sharp eye for detail, noticing things that go otherwise unnoticed. This ranges from small objects buried in places to traits and tics exhibited by the people he meets.

- Negotiation and emotional manipulation skills: Sterling is a master of persuasion and, where necessary, brainwashing and blackmail.

- Novel writing skills: Not very useful for survival, but still nice to have nonetheless.

Weakness
- Angina: Sterling has a history of angina, and as such, has to carry GTN with him wherever he goes (though he has a large stash of the medicine, almost 500 pills in total).

- Mild hypertension: Though not very serious, Sterling still prefers to err on the side of caution, staying away from salty foods. This is more difficult, given the ubiquity of canned food in a post-apocalyptic world.

- Poor eyesight: Over years and years of writing and reading in the dark, Sterling's eyesight has deteriorated somewhat, and though he has little trouble seeing around, he needs to wear glasses to read now. In addition, his left eye's vision is beginning to get more and more hazy; Sterling worries that this may be a sign of an onset of glaucoma in that eye.

- Memories: He tries his very best to forget it, but Sterling is constantly haunted by the memories of his family's demise. As a result of this, he has significant trouble sleeping at night, and sometimes has dizzy spells upon waking up.

- Monolingual: Sterling only speaks English. As such, he has trouble communicating with people who do not understand English, though it's not a great problem in Chicago.

- Constant need for culinary variety: With a rather picky stomach, Sterling can never eat too much of just one particular food many days in a row without becoming sick. He circumvents this by rotating his rations where possible.

Personality
Will be expanded upon in IC posts.

Likes
- His family
- Reading
- Writing
- Wagner's operas
- Heavy metal
- Germany and German culture (he tried to learn German, but has largely abandoned it)
- How to Train Your Dragon (both the books and the movies)

Dislikes
- Hoarders
- Starbucks coffee (he is a staunch supporter of family owned coffee establishments)
- Crappy sushi passing off as good sushi
- The Twilight series

Fears
Will be expanded upon in IC posts.

Bio
Born in the outskirts of London to Albert Arthur Russell Sterling (a company general manager in the steel industry) and Therese Gillian Sterling née Telford (a stockbroker), Edward H. G. Sterling is the youngest of three children. He grew up in relative comfort, acing his GCE A-Levels and entering the University of Bristol, where he studied English Literature. However, he found this to be meaningless, and upon graduating, declined to continue academics.

He took a part time job as a cashier at a florist shop, and in his free time, wrote short stories, which he would share with his friends. When he was 28, one of Sterling's friends, a magazine editor, took great interest in one of his stories, and urged him to write a novel about it.

As such, Sterling took his friend's advice and published his first novel: 11 o'clock Mist, a comedy. It was a total flop, however, selling just slightly more than 200 out of the initial 1,500 copies and drawing criticism for its mediocrity. One particular reader, however, enjoyed the book so much that she decided to write to "Alexander Lane" to compliment his writing. Sterling met up with this person, one Rachel Taylor, and they soon fell in love, marrying each other just three years later. Sterling was 31. Just two years later, Sterling's first daughter Margaret was born.

At the age of 38, after extensive research into the subject matter "Alexander Lane" published his second novel, Egg of the Black Changthangi. This novel, a psychological drama centred around a third world country doctor's efforts to control disease, was a much greater commercial and literary success, and sold significantly more copies than the first novel.

It was then that Rachel's law firm opted to set up a branch in Chicago. In order to oversee the Chicago branch, Rachel had been posted there indefinitely; as such, Sterling and his daughter emigrated to the US too, where they settled. Here, Sterling published, at the age of 44, his third novel, Broken Flowerpot, another psychological drama. This, while less successful than Egg of the Black Changthangi, was well received nonetheless. With the combined value of Sterling's royalties and Rachel's law firm earnings, the family lived comfortably in their new home, integrating well. One year later, Sterling's second daughter Samantha was born.

Years passed. Sterling published two more novels, both receiving decent amounts of critical acclaim and commercial success.

Then the outbreak started. And Edward Sterling's entire family was infected.

But only he survived. Samantha Sterling died first; when he woke up in the middle of the night, the girl was lying on the ground, blood dribbling out from several of her body's orifices. Then the madness began to sink in with his wife and his one remaining daughter. Upon noticing that he was immune, Rachel Taylor Sterling, in a fit of virus-induced madness, killed herself with a knife, while her husband was at the pharmacy. With only his one daughter left, Edward Sterling stayed in the house, living off whatever scraps were in the fridge and refusing to leave for fear that she, too, would leave him.

Margaret Sterling died in the middle of the night.

With nobody else left, and three bodies rotting in the house, Edward Sterling packed his leather briefcase with his most precious possessions and left the house behind for good. He searched the neighbourhoods of his friends and acquaintances; everybody was gone. His editor had drowned himself in his dog's feeding bowl; his physician had been knifed to death by a thug seeking to steal prescription medicine; his insurance agent had fled the country entirely; his drinking buddies had either become infected and transformed into mindless shells or died one way or another.

The only person still alive and healthy was that Asian boy working as a barista at his favourite coffee chain, Hiroshi Ikeda.

That, Sterling found out entirely by accident. After a week of living on his emergency rations, Sterling had become decidedly sick of instant noodles, to the point that he could barely think of them without throwing up ("I'm so sorry, Momofuku Andō..."). Driven by his desperation for variety, the author headed to La Luna, a café he had eaten at for many years since moving to Chicago, only to find that the glass door had been jammed and the tables and chairs arranged in a crude barricade of sorts. He broke the door down and pushed the furniture aside.

In there, he saw a terrified Hiro, clutching a bread knife before him.

And it was then that they decided to travel together, despite hardly knowing each other beyond a few conversations over coffee in the past. After all, what choice did they have? Edward Sterling, an old man with no survival skills and angina to boot, and Hiro Ikeda, a timid boy barely able to defend himself against thugs.

Together, at the very least, they wouldn't die half as quickly.

RP Example

Three hours after the attack on Kinhe

Manichean Plane
Realm I
Itohalle
Capital of the Niril Republic

Hall of the Sky
Convention of the Grand Duma

(Image)

Raised high above the clouds of the snowy, rocky planet Itohalle, the Hall of the Sky was the capital of the gigantic, intergalactic entity known as the Niril Republic. With almost 200 times more room than an aircraft carrier, the Hall was a colossal, palatial structure, visible as a protrusion from the otherwise reddish white planet even from space.

Rarely did the Grand Duma of the Niril Republic ever convene in full (the Republic's territories were so massive that even travelling to the capital itself was troublesome for those presiding over the outer planets), but on the occasions that it did, the entire Republic, spanning almost a hundred entire galaxies, was involved in the proceedings, in that extensive coverage of the monumental events would be broadcasted to the corners of its territories.

This was true even in this situation, one of an emergency; this was the first time a belligerent force had launched an attack within a territory of the Niril Republic since the conclusion of the War of Ten, in the 19th year of the rule of Chancellor Ranemosa, almost 80 years ago.

And the Grand Duma was not taking it lightly.

Convocation Chamber of the Grand Duma
LVIII Convention of the Grand Duma

(Image)

(Image)
His Excellency, The Baron
Minister Magician
Schienü
HV RV GCStF OrELeL DXCr GHYL OtH YNV JJhV NK

The first major member of the Grand Duma to arrive was H.E. Minister Magician, Baron Schienü, a hunched over, aged member of Chancellor Nasse's inner circle. Hobbling in on two walking sticks, clad in a flowing military uniform decorated with badges of all sorts, the old figure was a sight to behold, a grand relic of the illustrious past of the Republic.

He had served all the Chancellors from Chancellor Niyivu onwards, and had been a central figure of the Niril Republic's politics since the ascension of the late Rohojën to power several decades ago. Now a withered old man, Schienü served not just as a mentor to the fresh young leaders of the Republic, but also as a life force, binding the entire government together through the presence of his indomitable will.

Even his entrance into the hall, supported by his two faithful walking canes, prompted all who were already seated to jerk to their feet, in awe of the great and benevolent presence before them.

The second man who entered, however, inspired a vastly different kind of awe.

(Image)
His Excellency, The Count Palatine
Field Marshal (Ret.)
Ireun
HV RV HOStF YNV-(Oak Leaves) DXCr LMoAC Lh-IX OtH NK

Retired Field Marshal Ireun, a man of the military for 50 years, and then one of the most senior advisors to both Chancellors Tamku and Nasse, was a fearsome commander when still in service, responsible for expanding the Niril Republic almost a hundred planets, through a series of impossible negotiations and, on some highly controversial occasions, conquest.

His steely gaze pierced through the stoniest of barriers anybody could ever form in their minds, almost as if he could gaze directly into the souls of men with his silver, ghostly eyes. Unlike the somewhat pompous Schienü, Ireun opted not to dress in fancy military attire, choosing more down-to-earth black robes, the only decorations of which were the insignia of his division of the Army, the LXXVI Royal Guards, which was dissolved following his ascension into the political spheres.

Though soft spoken and mild mannered, Ireun was a fearsome man in the seat of command, playing his troops into battle like a chessboard. That particular day, he stood at the podium of the Convocation Chamber of the Grand Duma, the room on the highest level of the Hall's towers, making one of his boldest declarations to open the .

"This attempted terrorist attack", declared the retired Field Marshal, "is an act of war against our Republic. Whoever was responsible for this travesty shall face the full might of Niril!"

...

Manichean Plane
Realm I
???

"Tell us what you know! Tell us what you know, now!!!"

The masked interrogator held his megaphone up, screaming directly through it into the ear of the man tied to the chair with it. The man, a muscular military officer in his mid forties, screamed in pain, his eardrums already perforated badly. Tears rolled down his cheeks as each piercing, booming word from the megaphone tore through his ear some more.

With a grin on his face, the interrogator put down the megaphone, before walking over to the other end of the room and looking out of the tiny, tinted glass window which overlooked the vast desert surrounding the outside of the building and provided just the tiniest amount of natural light for the prisoner, who had been there almost three months now.

It was only after the barely foiled attack on the port at Kinhe, just three hours ago, that this particular interrogator had been called down to talk to the prisoner.

"We know that it was the Balur Commonwealth that launched the attack", cooed the interrogator, into the good ear of the captured officer. "Yes, it was your bosses which ordered this unprovoked attack, Colonel Dienasstin Veknu. The Grand Duma doesn't know yet, because I ordered my men to withhold the information. Think of that as an act of mercy on the Balur Commonwealth. So return the favour." The interrogator purred eerily, crouching and gazing into the prisoner's eyes.

"No... no, I don't know anything... please, let me go... I can't hear anything..."

"You do know", said the interrogator mockingly, "that I could unleash hell on the Balur Commonwealth right now, simply by revealing the evidence to the Grand Duma? The only reason I'm holding back now is because I have something else in mind. But on your end, regardless of when it becomes public knowledge, the Balur Commonwealth is going to get a long hard cock jammed straight into its anus. No matter how you see it, you're all screwed."

"Please let me go... I don't know anything... I can't hear anything..." the man pleaded pitifully. "My wife... my daughters... please let me see them..."

The interrogator laughed sarcastically and, standing to his full height, karate-kicked the man in the chest. The force of the kick was so great that the chair toppled backwards, the backrest shattering upon hitting the ground. The man screamed in pain as some of the splinters buried themselves in his back.

Without removing the mask, the interrogator silently left the room, leaving the man to bleed out on the ground. Before leaving, however, he left one last message for the prison's guards.

"Please play the Barney the Dinosaur theme song on a loop till he loses consciousness; give him doses of hairudoxine so that he will remain conscious for at least six hours, and do not stop the song under any circumstances. Once he's passed out, have him brought to the hospital. Have the truth drug used on him."

The guard saluted nervously, trembling in his boots as the interrogator left the room.

"Yes, Chief Ionian."

...

Convocation Chamber of the Grand Duma
LVIII Convention of the Grand Duma

"I, Councillor Soong Ing-chiao of the Planet Girialu, vehemently object to H.E. Count Palatine Ireun's proposal to have Supreme HQ Intelligence Chief Ionian placed in charge of investigations into this matter."

(Image)
The Honourable
Councillor
Soong Ing-chiao
宋鷹翹
GCStF YNV-(Oak Leaves) NK
Councillor of Girialu

"Your concern is most understandable, Councillor Soong", said Ireun calmly and gently from his spot at the podium, as Councillor Soong took his seat. "However, it is to my knowledge that Chief Ionian has presided over numerous successful operations in the past, especially in the counter terrorist missions our Republic conducted during the rule of Chancellor Tamku; in 50 years, Ionian has not failed us." Ireun paused, waiting for responses.

One man stood up, across the chamber on the opposite benches.

(Image)
The Honourable
Lieutenant (Hon. Dis.)
Councillor
Tarju
KStF NK

Tarju was a giant, standing at almost 210cm and with muscles that writhed beneath his smart, bespoke suits. His hair was perpetually coiffed into a curtain of sorts, and his pointy-toed shoes were always polished to a mirror shine. On his left eye sat a monocle which cast rainbows at various angles.

Most noticeable of all, however, was the fact that his right arm was missing from below the elbow; what remained of his sleeve was tucked in neatly and held in place with a golden safety pin.

"With all due respect to the Honourable Councillor Soong Ing-chiao, I would like to state publicly my support for His Excellency Ireun's proposal to have Ionian head the investigation effort against those who perpetrated this attack. Even though we do not know who Ionian is, it is still beneficial to our cause to have him on our side."

Having finished his sentence, Tarju sat back down promptly.

"When the remaining members of the Grand Duma have arrived", said Ireun, "we shall cast the Emergency Vote."

...

Members present: 711 / 1,062

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

---

Name
Hiroshi Ikeda
池田　裕 ("Ikeda Hiroshi")

AKA
"Hiro"
"Chì-tián Yù" (Chinese reading)

Nationality
Taiwanese

Ethnicity
Okinawan

Age/DOB
22 (Birthday: 29 April, 1993)

Pic/Description

Hiro usually wears plain T-shirts or polo shirts with black jeans (with a belt) and a simple, dark blue cardigan.

Height: 177cm
Weight: 68kg
Eye colour: Light brown
Hair colour: Black

Occupation
- Student: Hiro studies pharmaceutical science at the University of Chicago, on a scholarship.

- Kitchen hand: To add a little more pocket money to his budget, Hiro used to do a part time job at La Luna, a small coffee house owned by an elderly French chef.

Immunity
Partial (He, however, is unaware of this at present.)

Equipment
- Bread knife (with a protective sheath): Taken from the shop he worked at after its owners fled and left everything but the money behind.

- Ziploc bag of coffee powder: Just in case

- Oppo A53 (with a cracked screen): Oppo is the only Chinese phone that is actually good, in Hiro's opinion. The battery could last a bit longer, though it's okay for a cheap phone.

- Extension wire

- "Quaker Chewy Chocolate Chip" granola bars: x29. Taken from the storeroom of the café; evidently, Chef Lelouch didn't have enough space to fit those into his Mini Cooper.

- A copy of Introduction to the Pharmaceutical Sciences: Written by Dr V. G. Meretskov, Dr N. Nishio, Dr J. H. Seo, and Dr A. Focke. 916 pages, hardcover, with handwritten annotations made by Hiro himself in three different languages. Comes in useful when looting abandoned pharmacies, so Hiro brings it along despite its immense weight.

- A Japanese-English copy of Egg of the Black Changthangi: 406 pages, paperback. A Tokyo-printed edition of Alexander Lanes' novel with both the original English text and a Japanese translation. Double column format.

- Tote bag: A gigantic canvas tote bag with a sling. It has the words "На здоровье" on one side. He's owned the bag for two years, but to this day, Hiro does not know what it says, because he can't read Russian.

Skills
- Knowledge of medicines: Having been a student at the University of Chicago's pharmacy school, Hiro is rather knowledgeable on various drugs. However, as he has not completed his degree, his knowledge is still incomplete.

- Trilingual: Hiro was raised speaking both Japanese and Chinese. In addition, as he frequently reads English books and watches English documentaries, he also has a good command of the English language.

- Stamina: As he came from a poor family, Hiro did not get to ride in a car, school bus, or even public transport; as such, he had to walk several kilometres to and from school each day. This turns out to be a blessing in disguise, as Hiro now has a surprisingly high amount of stamina and can walk long distances without tiring much despite his heart condition.

- Cookery: Having worked in a café for almost 4 years, Hiro knows how to cook and make coffee, and can improvise pretty well. He mostly makes sandwiches.

Weaknesses
- Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (i.e. having a heart with overly thick walls): Despite being an asymptomatic patient, Hiro is still not very fond of the idea of strenuous exercise, paranoid that complications may appear despite reassurance from his physician.

- Timid: Hiro is mild mannered to the point that he is terrified of the prospect of even having to fight off "zombies" and thugs. Though he carries a scary bread knife with him in his bag, Hiro is extremely reluctant to use it (and to date, has not done so).

- Not particularly strong: The heaviest objects he can lift are gallon jugs of milk. Thanks to the textbook he insists on bringing along, his bag is almost too heavy for him.

- Terrified of stray dogs and cats: No explanation needed

Personality
Will be expanded upon in IC posts.

Likes
- Reading
- Black coffee
- Angelfish
- Last Week Tonight with John Oliver
- Weird Al Yankovic

Dislikes
- Stray animals
- Arguments over petty things
- Pornography and people who enjoy pornography (because he believes it to be one of the worst ways to use time)
- Small talk about celebrities and similar topics

Fears
Will be expanded upon in IC posts.

Bio
Hiroshi Ikeda was born in a run-down part of Taipei, Taiwan, to working class parents of Okinawan and Japanese descent. His father, Ryōma Ikeda, was a janitor at a subway station, and his mother was a taxi driver. Both earned just enough to feed him and his younger brother Takeru, as well as to pay the utility bills of their one room apartment.

At the age of three, just shortly after Takeru was born, it was discovered during a checkup at a public hospital that Hiro had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy; the walls of his heart were too thick. Nevertheless, life went on as per normal for him, though heavy strenuous exercise was now a no-no. A close uncle of his had, after all, died of a massive and sudden heart long before he was born; the concern was very much understandable.

At the age of six, Hiro's father (along with some other commuters and staff at the train station) was stabbed and slashed by two men going on a crime spree. Though both were eventually convicted, a series of highly unfortunate grammatical errors in a legal document meant that Ryōma Ikeda could not be compensated for his injuries. Left with no choice, the family was forced to use the money they had saved for Hiroshi and Takeru's university education to pay the hospital bill.

Determined not to let his parents down, Hiro studied like mad the moment he got to school, right from primary school all the way to the end of high school. He graduated with flying colours, earning the recognition of the Taiwanese Education Ministry, which gave him a scholarship to study at an American university. With his grades, Hiro chose to study Pharmaceutical Science at the University of Chicago, and as such, packed his bags for the USA. He was 18.

He managed to rent himself a small apartment with his scholarship money, and soon began studying, which he did with an unsurpassed diligence. He took up a part time job at a French café, where he helped make coffee. The owner of the café, an elderly French chef by the name of Félix Lelouch, taught the young man how to cook and prepare food, thus saving him from the fate of having nothing but instant noodles to eat.

Interestingly, it was at this café that Hiro met one of his favourite authors; Edward H. G. Sterling, better known by his pseudonym Alexander Lanes, frequented that café on Fridays and weekends. Recognising the writer's face from the back coves of Egg of the Black Changthangi, a bilingual Japanese-English edition of which he owned and reread often, Hiro was elated. The two got acquainted, and often discussed literature and other such topics during lulls in the shop's patronage; Chef Lelouch closed one eye to this.

The outbreak of the new virus came as a huge shock to Hiro. His friends and classmates were quickly infected, and either went mad or keeled over and died randomly. Hiro himself had come down with a terrible bout of sneezing, but that soon died away. He attempted to send emails home, but the WiFi had become too slow to do so. Time passed, and on one day, when classes had been cancelled due to the sudden deaths of two professors, Hiro headed down to the La Luna and found that Chef Lelouch had disappeared without a trace, leaving behind everything except the money in the safe deposit box.

Already, it seemed that the infected had grown in number to the point that groups of them could be seen wandering about the neighbourhoods, tearing other people apart and scavenging trash, among other things. The sight was highly unsettling, to say the least.

Fearing for his life and safety, Hiro locked himself in the café, living off the frozen food that was in the fridge; the gas, miraculously, lasted for two full days before finally being cut off (the electricity, in comparison, had gone out right from the day he arrived), after which Hiro, in a stroke of luck, unearthed a butane stove in the storeroom. Outside, those who had not yet succumbed to madness continued fighting each other to the death over such things as bottled mineral water and batteries.

A week later, the glass automatic door of the cafe was smashed. Hiro peeked from behind the counter, the bread knife in his trembling hands, only to realise that it was Sterling. He'd come to the cafe to see if there was anything left to eat, having become sick of instant noodles and Spam.

Though they barely knew each other, the two decided that it would be in both of their best interests to travel together. If there was something worse than being stuck in a zombie apocalypse, it was being stuck in a zombie apocalypse alone.

RP Examples
I presume one is enough?

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

[Parcia]

Monster first Post away.

Any one around Mercy Hospital?

[Independent States of Tula]

Of course, but word may spread.

There are three people I think at that place and most people are armed with something.... is your char going shoot at everyone that is armed?

No, just the crazy looking guy trying to stick them up like an outlaw in an old western.

They don't try to stop Vladimir from taking from the guy what he wants if he hits his target then they won't need to worry too much. Plus one guy is one thing, four on one is another.

[Paddy O Fernature]

That would be meta gaming OOC knowledge if their character wasn't physically there at the time of the incident.

Of course, but word may spread.

Oh, no doubt. No argument from me on that front.

And while yes, he is shooting a rifle at one, it also happens to be a infamously inaccurate rifle at any range.

It's also like firing the Enfield in DayZ mod... better hunker down cause the whole damn city just heard that shot and is coming to investigate.

[Independent States of Tula]

Of course, but word may spread.

Oh, no doubt. No argument from me on that front.

And while yes, he is shooting a rifle at one, it also happens to be a infamously inaccurate rifle at any range.

It's also like firing the Enfield in DayZ mod... better hunker down cause the whole damn city just heard that shot and is coming to investigate.

Inaccurate? Did you not see the video of me shooting targets at 100 yards while standing up? Mosin' were well liked for their accuracy among soviet soldiers, and it was far more accurate than any other Soviet rifles, hence why it was used as a sniper rifle...however yes, at over 150 decibels the entire city just heard the shot.

[Parcia]

Of course, but word may spread.

Oh, no doubt. No argument from me on that front.

And while yes, he is shooting a rifle at one, it also happens to be a infamously inaccurate rifle at any range.

It's also like firing the Enfield in DayZ mod... better hunker down cause the whole damn city just heard that shot and is coming to investigate.

Huh, I was under the impression that the Mosin (AKA Stalin's trash rifle) was a shit thing to use, but was surprisingly accurate, that it was just the mule kick recoil, sticky action, heavy trigger and some times shit ammo that made it the aforementioned trash rifle.

Also, what dumb-ass tries to chamber 7.62x45 and a M1??? Sure they look similar, but their different sized bullets, logic would dictate you don't shove the short looking bullet in to the long looking rifle.

[Theyra]

Oh, no doubt. No argument from me on that front.

And while yes, he is shooting a rifle at one, it also happens to be a infamously inaccurate rifle at any range.

It's also like firing the Enfield in DayZ mod... better hunker down cause the whole damn city just heard that shot and is coming to investigate.

Inaccurate? Did you not see the video of me shooting targets at 100 yards while standing up? Mosin' were well liked for their accuracy among soviet soldiers, and it was far more accurate than any other Soviet rifles, hence why it was used as a sniper rifle...however yes, at over 150 decibels the entire city just heard the shot.

Sp are you saying that you just killed a player?

[Parcia]

Inaccurate? Did you not see the video of me shooting targets at 100 yards while standing up? Mosin' were well liked for their accuracy among soviet soldiers, and it was far more accurate than any other Soviet rifles, hence why it was used as a sniper rifle...however yes, at over 150 decibels the entire city just heard the shot.

Sp are you saying that you just killed a player?

Not necessarily, While the Mosin is...moderately accurate, hes unlikely to land a killing shot, more likely a grazing wound, flesh wound, or miss by a few inches. If nothing else, the got tier noise it produces and the impact of a 7m rifle bullet near by will surprise him enough that the others can react.

[Independent States of Tula]

Inaccurate? Did you not see the video of me shooting targets at 100 yards while standing up? Mosin' were well liked for their accuracy among soviet soldiers, and it was far more accurate than any other Soviet rifles, hence why it was used as a sniper rifle...however yes, at over 150 decibels the entire city just heard the shot.

Sp are you saying that you just killed a player?

No, I'm arguing that the Mosin isn't inaccurate inherently. At 100 yards you can easily shoot 3 inch groupings with surplus ammo (see "cheapest"). Heavy, yes, kicks like a mule with a steel butt plate, fuck yes, absolutely not ergonomic as hell, bingo, worst bolt in the world, absolutely...inaccurate, no.

Can you miss a man at 80 meters even when you're stabilized? Absolutely, will he know you've got a cannon and can kill him if he doesn't run for his life or find cover, no doubt about it.

[Monarchy of Japanada]

My character is entering Shedd, do I say how the quest progresses or do you?

[New Finnish Republic]

Is anyone else going to be running into my character in Wrigley? I'm waiting to know that as well as any possible objectives before posting.

[Ontorisa]

There you go Tay, have something for you to work with.

Snip

Looks good on my end. ACCEPTED.

[Anowa]

Me: Oh hey I have time to write now! Let's get this done.

*30 minutes later*

Me: Well I'm done time to post

*click*

*Helsary has posted*

Me: TIME TO REWRITE MY POST THEN.

[Helsary]

Me: Oh hey I have time to write now! Let's get this done.

*30 minutes later*

Me: Well I'm done time to post

*click*

*Helsary has posted*

Me: TIME TO REWRITE MY POST THEN.

If you want to, I could take mine down and adjust it to what you wanted to originally post

[Anowa]

Me: Oh hey I have time to write now! Let's get this done.

*30 minutes later*

Me: Well I'm done time to post

*click*

*Helsary has posted*

Me: TIME TO REWRITE MY POST THEN.

If you want to, I could take mine down and adjust it to what you wanted to originally post

... Well I've deleted and rewritten most of it by now. So that'd make it worse.

[Helsary]

If you want to, I could take mine down and adjust it to what you wanted to originally post

... Well I've deleted and rewritten most of it by now. So that'd make it worse.

Really sorry about that. I just logged in a little bit ago when I got back from work, and checked out the OOC just to find people talking about someone shooting my character O.o So I admit, I kinda hurried up to come with a reply and forgot that there was another player there than Kentucky. I'll pay more attention from now on, my bad.

[Anowa]

... Well I've deleted and rewritten most of it by now. So that'd make it worse.

Really sorry about that. I just logged in a little bit ago when I got back from work, and checked out the OOC just to find people talking about someone shooting my character O.o So I admit, I kinda hurried up to come with a reply and forgot that there was another player there than Kentucky. I'll pay more attention from now on, my bad.

It's K.

Though I'll be the first to say that you may want another character queued. Thing may not end well for Chains.

[Independent States of Tula]

... Well I've deleted and rewritten most of it by now. So that'd make it worse.

Really sorry about that. I just logged in a little bit ago when I got back from work, and checked out the OOC just to find people talking about someone shooting my character O.o So I admit, I kinda hurried up to come with a reply and forgot that there was another player there than Kentucky. I'll pay more attention from now on, my bad.

I could've missed! But hey, I give you personally points for having your guy take a bullet. Most people don't do that.

[Barapam]

Just watched a clip of QI, and apparantly it would take 38 days in the event of a zombie apocalypse until the whole world was infected. Seems we're on a tight schedule, well, those of us who aren't immune...

I'll begin on my post now instead.

[Anowa]

Really sorry about that. I just logged in a little bit ago when I got back from work, and checked out the OOC just to find people talking about someone shooting my character O.o So I admit, I kinda hurried up to come with a reply and forgot that there was another player there than Kentucky. I'll pay more attention from now on, my bad.

I could've missed! But hey, I give you personally points for having your guy take a bullet. Most people don't do that.

I'm gonna be that guy right now.

But as a side note, in the world it is today with working doctors and all the fancy medical equipment. Rifle wounds have a 30-40% fatality rate... For those who make it to the hospital. And with how tightly bound the legs are with arteries... Yeah. Sadly not a good outlook.

[Parcia]

Huh....any one near Mercy?

Also, only because I think some people had forgotten this, or just didn't catch it in the OP...

The Zulus aren't undead, just mentally insane to the highest degree ever seen, this is more like a Rage virus then a Necrotic plague.

Meaning you don't always need to score head-shots to put these things down.

[Helsary]

I could've missed! But hey, I give you personally points for having your guy take a bullet. Most people don't do that.

I'm being that guy right now.

But as a side note, in the world it is today with working doctors and all the fancy medical equipment. Rifle wounds have a 30-40% fatality rate... For those who make it to the hospital. And with how tightly bound the legs are with arteries... Yeah. Sadly not a good outlook.

The wound's been causterized enough that not much bleeding is going on anymore. Sure, still bleeding, but not at an alarming rate, more like the equivalent of having two teeth pulled out.

I'm thinking of having my guy try to get out on the other side of the R.V., through the already-shattered window. That would get him out of the visibility of the guys in the gunshop, but would give the sniper another chance as he scrambles towards the nearest building. (I'd say 50/50 chance with the condition his leg is in making him unable to run as fast. Probably gonna roll a dice). Is that cool with y'all?

[Independent States of Tula]

I could've missed! But hey, I give you personally points for having your guy take a bullet. Most people don't do that.

I'm being that guy right now.

But as a side note, in the world it is today with working doctors and all the fancy medical equipment. Rifle wounds have a 30-40% fatality rate... For those who make it to the hospital. And with how tightly bound the legs are with arteries... Yeah. Sadly not a good outlook.

Probably not, still Vladimir's going to harken back to Fallujah and how some of the Syrian foreign fighters would dope themselves up and could survive such trauma such as being run over sideways by an M1 Abrams and losing the lower part of their body for some time.

[Kentucky Fried Land]

Huh....any one near Mercy?

Also, only because I think some people had forgotten this, or just didn't catch it in the OP...

The Zulus aren't undead, just mentally insane to the highest degree ever seen, this is more like a Rage virus then a Necrotic plague.

Meaning you don't always need to score head-shots to put these things down.

I think people know that, they just aimed for the head because most people have only faced one infected at a time and headshots typically instantly kill them.

I'm being that guy right now.

But as a side note, in the world it is today with working doctors and all the fancy medical equipment. Rifle wounds have a 30-40% fatality rate... For those who make it to the hospital. And with how tightly bound the legs are with arteries... Yeah. Sadly not a good outlook.

The wound's been causterized enough that not much bleeding is going on anymore. Sure, still bleeding, but not at an alarming rate, more like the equivalent of having two teeth pulled out.

I'm thinking of having my guy try to get out on the other side of the R.V., through the already-shattered window. That would get him out of the visibility of the guys in the gunshop, but would give the sniper another chance as he scrambles towards the nearest building. (I'd say 50/50 chance with the condition his leg is in making him unable to run as fast. Probably gonna roll a dice). Is that cool with y'all?

I was actually going to have one of my characters consider taking you in the truck to Echelon. Because if you run to the building you're going to be left behind, considering how the gunshots are probably bringing a ton of infected.