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Here's my character, so I'm ok to play? Awesome ^^

Name: Dervish
Age: 30
Appearance: Tall, with a green mohawk, green eyes with a rather skinny body
Abilities: Punk, good with getting up close an personal, a regular in the mosh pit
Equipment: Baseball bat and chain

Dervish pulled himself out of bed, took a swig from a near empty whiskey bottle next to him, wherever the hell he was. He wandered around for a bit, realizing he had ended up crashing at someone's house overnight.

He found his MP3 player and leather jacket, pocketing the bottle of whiskey. He put Anarchy in the UK on by Sex Pistols, it was a hard time for him and he needed something from home to cheer him up.

'End of the world and I'm stuck in this gakhole....'

He wandered towards the nearest food shop, vaguely aware of some impending doom that had been on the news the night before. Carrying his baseball bat, 'Jeremy' and rocking along to the music.

David punched the man a second time. The man grabbed his bleeding nose, trying to see straight. David grabbed him by the shoulders, and brought his forehead down on the already injured nose.

He fell backwards, moaning.

"Stay down stupid." David planed his foot on the man's throat, stopping just short of crushing the windpipe.

David walked to the drink section of the store, and picked up a crate of the first drink he found. He looked at the label as he carried it to the cashier.
Mike's Hard. Now that's only ofr hardcore motherfethers. He thought. Eighty of these and you start getting a pleasant buzz.
The cashier knew David, knew him from being on the wrestling team. He took Dave's moeny, not asking for an i.d.

"For taking that punk out." he said, and gestured ot the man who had tried to rob the store.

Dave nodded, and walked out.

He got home, and sat in his room, popping a few bottles open.

"End of the world, I'm drinking my sorry ass to death." He drank only one, instead leaving to work on some of the projects he'd started with the wood supplies in the basment.

He could hear shouting and yelling, his parents, from people on the streets, from neighbors, and even people on the other side of town.

When he could take it no longer, Dave took the hammer and went upstairs, intending to use it to convince a few people to shut the hell up.

He closed the front door at what he saw. He went into his room, and finished off the other three drinks he'd opened. He then took up his KA-BAR, and packed one of his drawstring bags.

He took the case of drinks, and climbed onto the roof. He slowly drank one, watching the carnage slowly unfold, seeing people fight tooth and nail against things that had no place even being alive.

He could see people, hunters mostly, armed with guns trying to fend off the attackers. He heard his parents scream, and checked to make sure the door to the roof was closed. He moved
a crate and some furniture to block it just to be sure.

"Goddam zombies." He said as he finished off the bottle, and opened a new one.

"I'm gonna need better suibstances then wine coolers for this." David finished. He noticed the hammer and knife laying next to him.

Least I'll have a few options come the time. He thought.

DAY ONE, 4:37 PM, US TIME

In the dim early morning light Fitzz opened his eyes.
"Gak" he thought to himself as he sat up on a tattered old matress.
His head spun from the overconsumption of various intoxicants the previous night and he flinched from the light of his zippo as he lit his first cigarette of the day.
"Gak" he said aloud hualing his massive frame from the bed,and searching for his clothes "where the feth am I?"
He turned looking back at the bed,it all came back,Debbie...or "Fire" as she called herself "onstage" lay snoring quietly.
He vaugley remembered going to the "club" last night,drinking ALOT and heading back to "Fires" home after she finished her last "dance"...as for the rest,well he didn't want to think to much about that.
He remember alot of bizzare talk in the bar,bunch of crazy drunk talk...dead people walking,gak like that..crazy.
He pulled on his leather pants and boots,strapped on his knife,and begin to look for his "colors",he saw the grinning devil face of the "Satans Servents" patch and smiled...he picked up the leather jacket and slipped it on.
As quitely as possible,he didn't wan't Debbie to wake up...no need dealing with that gak,he slipped into the kitchen and fished a beer out of the fridge.
Fitzz slowly sipped the beer,lit his second smoke of the day and turned on the T.V.
The haggared face of a young news man stared blankly on the television screen,speaking slowly, the news reporter relayed tale after tale of "the walking dead".
Fitzz sipped the beer and watched,disbeliving...but inside his survival instincts where on full alert...maybe he should get moving.
He walked into Debbies "spare room",in which he kept "supplies" that he didn't want the pigs to find at his house.
Among these supplies was his fathers Colt 1911 & a shoulder holster ,an AR-15,and a Remington 12 gauge double barrel shotgun he had sawed off to a 13 inch barrel.
He quickly collected the gear and spare magazines & shells and headed for his bike outside.

Patrick opened his eyes to the dawn, angrily waking to the knowledge he would have to sell rocks to pay his overdue rent he had learned last night.
"Mother of god, why the hell did my life have to be so gakky" he thought to himself as he looked over to his girlfriend.
He kissed her and rose from the bed, careful not to wake her. He went into the kitchen, started the coffee, sat on the couch and threw the T.V on.
Immediately, he heard the voice of the newscaster talk of the walking dead, of people seeing their deceased relatives walking around in the streets.
"melon-fether" Patrick "Jewman" whispered. He instantly knew what he would have to do, and he really didn't want to.
Patrick rose, opened his safe housing, grabbed his Tec-9, Taurus, as many clips has he had stored in there, and his badass swords, strapping the swords on his back in their holders.
He put them on the counter, throwing on his heavy jacket, made with a kevlar-like substance, some jeans, boots, and a 59fifty cap.
He loaded his Tec-9 and put it in his large breast-pocket inside his jacket. Patrick threw all the rest of the extra clips and ammunition into a backpack after loading his loaded handgun.
"I cannot believe I am going out strapped to take on a zombie outbreak" Patrick thought, pissed at the simple thought of what he was doing, everyone always said that Zombie's were fiction. Apparently not, donkey-caves.
He threw the backpack on, cocked his Taurus, and put it in his jacket pocket, hand on it.
"At least I'm better off than some for this" Patrick thought, 5 years of a martial arts bent towards calming yourself 'till you can kill someone with one kick, enough guns to take down the worst, and some of the best swords available to the common people. This didn't comfort him at all faced with zombies.

Patrick twisted the doorknob, and hoped for the best.

Fitzz stepped out into the early morning light,blinking against the sun "Zombies,you got to fething be kiddin me" he muttered.
Thinking about Tracy,his ex-wife and the boys,he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew his cell phone and dialed her number...nothing,no answer.

"Well" he thought " She most likely headed for the cabin",that was Tracy for ya,when trouble came a knocking...Tracy got ta running.

"Hun" a voice from behind,Fitzz felt the hair on his neck prickle,he turned slowly,Fire stood in the doorway.

"The news is saying alot of weird stuff" she said "I'm...I'm scared"she started to cry.

"Feth" Fitzz thought to himself,"I don't need this gak right now",he looked evenly at Fire and spoke.
" Don't worry about it" he said "You know how the T.V news guys like to make everything seem bigger than it is" he paused for a moment, "Look,I'll meet ya at the club tonight" he started walking for his bike " Just lock up and don't open the door for no one"

"Please" she wimpered "take me with you,it's...not safe"
"Mother Fether" Fitzz thought "Why the hell couldn't she have stayed asleep 10 more minutes".

"Look" he said " I got stuff I have to handle,things you can't come with me for..I.."
"Please,let me come with you" she pleaded " I won't bother you...I'll.." she trailed off

Fitzz stood staring at her "C'mon then" he barked as he climbed onto his Harley "I'll drop ya at the club"
"Yes" Fire blurted "ok",she hauled one long leg over the motorcycle and snuggled in behind Fitzz.
"God..Im gonna regret this" he thought as he kicked the big bike into life and tore off down the dirt road.

Brian woke suddenly, his back screaming in pain. He twisted his neck, feeling the cramp that had set in over night. Yawning sleepily, the Officer on duty staggered to his feet and stretched.

"Bloody cramp."

Walking slowly over to the checkpoint shed, he busied himself with brewing some coffee, and fishing around in the bin for that half finished pizza from last night. Pete wandered in about 5 minutes later, complaining bitterly about the price of petrol at the moment. Typical Pete, end of the world, and he's more concerned about the meaningless things. It was somehow comfurting.

"Here ya go Pete, nice mug o' Coffee for ya, and, i was gonna offer pizza but it seems to have gone walkabout." Brian said, as he rummaged through the bin.

"Thanks mate, good brew, this" muttered his old friend, who, after taking a few small sips, quaffed the whole thing down in two gulps.

"See anything whilst you were out on the dirt bike? Still heard nothing from Clarabelle on the radio. Last transmissin was a while back."

Pete shrugged. "Nah mate, no sign of anything down the road, but i did find a dear with, like half its arse hanging out. Something had gone to town on that badboy."

Brian shrugged. "Proll'y some Wildcat."

Sil had been hacking at the tree for some time with his axe - a giant pine which must have been growing for longer than he had. "Haha - take that stupid tree!" Sil thought as his axe cut away the final piece of trunk which was all that stood between the tree and the lumber mill.

He stepped back as the tree juddered and began to fall with a large creak, crack and crash. The forest was unusually quiet. Normally the fall of a tree would be heralded by an eruption of birds but this time all was silent. Sil frowned - he was no outdoorsman, having been raised in the city, but he knew enough from his enforced exile that this was unusual.

He hefted his axe warily and scanned the trees around him. Nothing seemed off other than the quiet so he shrugged and went to start hacking off the branches. It would have been a lot faster using a chainsaw, but Sil had figured that an axe would keep him fit, plus it would be much easier to hear the police or some other fether out for revenge sneaking up on him if he used an axe.

After he'd cleared a couple of the larger branches, Sil paused to take a swig from his canteen and have another look around - it was still utterly quiet and he was starting to get a bit nervy. He picked up his radio and called Mike.

"Hey, Mike, it's Sil - anything weird going on where you are?"

"Wadya mean, 'weird', Sil?"

"All the birds have stopped making noise - it's as quiet as hell out here - just a bit weird is all" Sil replied as he scanned the trees some more. "Just wondered if it was the same where you were".

There was a pause as Mike evidently considered his reply.

"You sure it is just that you don't smell so bad you scared away all the animals?"

"Hey, feth you Mike" Sil said with a laugh "Least I don't try and sleep with half the animals in the damn woods - surprised there isn't some kind of half man, half moose or something out here by now"

Mike laughed. "You know I only go after the pretty ones. But now you've said it - it does seem to be damn quiet today. Can't always hear anything over my chainsaw though but I just turned it off to have a listen." There was a pause. "Dunno - might be something to do with that flu thing in town. You know the radio said there was riots and all kinds of other gak happening too right?"

"Yeah, I heard at breakfast. Ah well, it's probably nothing - just be careful Mike, and watch out for those moose-men too, you filthy fether".

"Haha - you too Sil, see you later".

Dervish entered the shop, he noticed the shopkeeper cowering behind the counter. A huge hulk of a man was browsing the shelves with a shotgun slung over one shoulder and a huge leather trench coat.

'Hey Shark' Said Dervish

'Hey little guy, anything new?' replied Shark

'Nothing much, just the end of the world and all' Dervish said sarcastically

'Tell me about it....' muttered Shark as Dervish set about filling his bag with supplies, some Whiskey, some cans of food and water. He also packed some nails in his bag, they'd come in handy later.

'See you' said Dervish with a wave of his hand

'Later' Said Shark, who had begun to smash the store to bits at the outrage of the shopkeeper

@Golden eyed scout

Bringing zombies into your opening post? Too early.

I was under the assumption that we were waiting for Ghosty to bring the Zombies in after we'd all intro'd ourselves, and possibly met up with some people. I realize you're posting in the future tense to the rest of us, but that just makes it more confusing.

Ghosty, what's your say?

The doorknob creaked as it twisted, releasing the door. Patrick walked into the hallway of his apartment complex, seeing nobody around him.

"Strange, usually more noise at this time, no doubt more if zombies were roaming" Patrick thought.

He walked down the stairs to the main lobby, saying hello to Janet, the overweight, ugly frame of a human being, with a fake smile.

Walking outside, he saw an old, homeless looking man claw at he window of his car.

"Hey, stop that you feth!" Patrick shouted at the man. He ran over to him, and pushed him to the floor.

Patrick realized this was no man of any sorts. Its eyes were dead, its face patched, blood flowed out of its mouth, it was missing an ear.

It struggled to reach its feet as Patrick pulled out his Taurus with a stern frown on his face. This time, he wouldn't have to dream about those he was forced to kill.

He threw two rounds into the monsters frame, both entering its face, immediately ending its lifespan as a disease infested monstrosity.

"Mother of god" Patrick whispered.

Name: N
Age: 20
Appearance: Average height, thin, blonde hair, huge red coat (for added protection)
Abilities: N was an extremely resourceful IT student before the outbreak occured. His teachers would say he was basically a lazy child prodigy earlier on in life, simply he was extremely smart, but only if the subject interested him. At the age of 10 he started practicing Battojustu, simply because it seemed interesting enough. At other times he has even converted pens into LED flashlights simply for the hell of it.
Equipment: Iron Pipe, Pen LED Flashlight, some first aid equipment, prototype sword

N awoke to silence; he sighed. First thing he did was to patrol the small apartment he had fortified and make sure all the entrances were still safe and sealed. He then glancd at the monitors set in one courner to see if any of his traps had been set off and required resetting, they were fine as well. Obviously enough if they were both ruined he would be amongst the shuffling dead that had occupied the entire attention of the world. From the window though the streets were fairly empty, though being on the top floor of the building was both and advantage and a disadvantage. The small three story building had been a lucky find for him.

He climbed out onto the roof with a bottle of water and watched the sun rise. At this point he missed his music as the silence was simply too creepy to be calming. But power was limited so it was a needed sacrifice, best he could do was remember it and try to block out the occasional unnerving sounds below. Supplies were running low and he would need to run out to "buy" some more supplies soon. He still liked to say buy as he had to exchange his safety momentarily to aquire it and safety fom the undead was basically the new currency of the world.

Usually he spent his time trying to develop new weapons to fight the zombies, and then climb onto the roof to test them out. On the building across the street he saw movement in the window. Not the sluggish movement of the dead, but the lively movement of the healthy. Climbing back down into the room he looked at the current weapn he was working on. By forcing a current constantly through a sword blade he had caused it to become extremely hot. The attempt was to make a sword that would leave no blood behind so as the provide a reliable close quarters defence against them with a lower chance of discovering if the virus would spread through their blood.

Of course at the moment the handle needed some work to improve insulation against the heat and it required a backpack with a car battery in it. While not finished it did get really hot when he pressed the button to complete the circuit, but couldn't stay that way for long without the chance of causing injury to his hand. He checked to see if he was infact out of supplies. He was disappointed when he realised that there was enough left to fit into his backpack. He gathered the up into the bag and then walked over to the monitors to see if the coast was clear enough for him to leave.

Although he was taking the prototype weapn with him, he made sure to bring the iron pipe he had laying around simply as it was more reliable.

[OOC: I think that some people are posting much further ahead of others in the story ]

Thought I would also compile everyones info into one post, for ease of use.

Darkvoidof40k

Name: "Spook"
Age: 27
Appearance: Height - five foot nine, hair - bald
Abilities: Ex-military, special ops department-thing.
Equipment: Shotgun, Hunting Knife.
Background: No Family, few friends. But has a Dog. I'll find the name of the breed tomorrowz.



Fitzz

Name: Fitzz (keeps things easy)
Age: 35
Appearance: Height - 6'5",250lbs,long haired, bearded,tattooed.
Abilities: Mechanic,with above average knowledge of weapons,combat & "various criminal knowledge".
Equipment: Colt 1911,AR-15,K-bar knife,Sawed off double barrel shotgun,Harley "Shovelhead" Motorcycle with "saddle bags" containg first aid kit/MREs/canteens.
Background: Ex-convict,memeber of "Satans Servents" Motorcycle "club",served 10 years in State pen for drug distribution,Ex-wife,3 kids.



FM Ninja 048

Name: Naomie
Age: 19
Appearance: long brown hair, 5'10",female
Abilities: theif skills, so fast, stealthy, can jump high, above average weapons knowledge
Equipment: FiveSeven,Scoped&Silenced AR-15,ninjatō,dirt bike, rucksack with food and water
Background: dads a crime boss but ex-millitary, taught shooting skills at young age, very intelegent, not a girly girl,killed for daddy before but he doesn't know that



Scarper

Name: Scarp, seeing as we seem to be going the nickname route
Age: 21
Appearance: 6'1", average build. Dark brown short hair and stubbly beard.
Abilities: Emergency medicine and rock climbing. Little knowledge of weapons, but fit and able to get around well
Equipment: Limited medical equipment (think basic first aid, splints and bandages, few bags of fluid with delivery system, defib - enough to fill a rucksack). Rope, carabiners and rock shoes. Few tins of food, two bottles of water, insulin pump (!) with several weeks of prescription meds. Hockey stick.
Background: Med student, recently attached to local A and E, but new to the area. Member of local mountain rescue team back home. Diabetic.



Silver

Name: Sil (woo, nicknames!)
Age: 25
Appearance: Average height, shaven head, stubble, fit looking, lots of gang marks.
Abilities: Lumberjack (good with axes). Brawling skills (low level criminal thug being hidden out of the way after killing someone in a gang fight).
Equipment: Axe, 2 way radio.
Background: A low level thug in a criminal gang, Sil had been hidden out of the way after killing someone during a gang fight. Was working as a lumberjack when the outbreak started.



Golden Eyed Scout

Name: David "Dave" Laurie
Age: 16
Apperance: 5'7", Close cropped brown hair, hazel eyes, glasses, 145 lbs.
Abilities: 6 yrs. of Wrestling training, more a brawler then fighter though. Decent marksmen, having been on his schools rifle team. Incrediably convincing liar and actor. Good mountain biker, and can run
at a good clip for a while, a testament to the condtioning of his training.
Equipment: Claw hammer, KA-BAR, pocket knife, metal water bottle.
Backround: Born and raised in the backwoods of America, David was the black sheep of his family. Whereas his brothers were both incredible athletes and honor roll students, David struggled to keep his grades up
and to get the coaches to put him on the mat, until he quit the team. David was also different then his brothers in that he loved nothing more then to go home and sleep off a hard day, rather then fight with his parents.



Karon

Name: Patrick "Jewman" (Not meant to be racist, I'm Jewish and that's what all my buds call me)
Age: 23
Appearance: Height 6'11", 247lbs, short slicked back hair, unshaved face, Pentagram Tattoo on the back of the neck, well built
Abilities: Medical Intern, knowledge of ballistics, 5 years of Tai-Chi
Equipment: Tek-9, Taurus PT92, Butterfly Knife, Two stainless Steel combat-made Drizzt Do'urden Replica Swords (they are so awesome), piece o' gak ford Jeep, first aid kit(not the gakky ones you get from walgreens)
Background: 23 year old on-and-off drug dealer, accomplished Martial Artist, grew up in the "hood" in Chicago



Great Unclean One

Name: Dervish
Age: 30
Appearance: Tall, with a green mohawk, green eyes with a rather skinny body
Abilities: Punk, good with getting up close an personal, a regular in the mosh pit
Equipment: Baseball bat and chain



n0t_u

Name: N
Age: 20
Appearance: Average height, thin, blonde hair, huge red coat (for added protection)
Abilities: N was an extremely resourceful IT student before the outbreak occured. His teachers would say he was basically a lazy child prodigy earlier on in life, simply he was extremely smart, but only if the subject interested him. At the age of 10 he started practicing Battojustu, simply because it seemed interesting enough. At other times he has even converted pens into LED flashlights simply for the hell of it.
Equipment: Iron Pipe, Pen LED Flashlight, some first aid equipment, prototype sword

Removed

Sil had cleared most of the branches on the felled tree now and was working on tidying up the main trunk. He was sweating freely as he swung the axe in a steady rythm. The woods had been quiet all morning - the occasional radio contact with the other loggers working in the woods had confirmed that they had all noticed the strange lack of wildlife.

Sil paused in his work to wipe the sweat from his eyes and survey his handiwork. There was a noise in the undergrowth behind him - the crackling of dry branches being snapped and the rustle of leaves. Sil turned and scanned the woods. Nothing that he could see, but the noises continued - it sounded like a drunk had somehow become lost and been attracted to the regular sound of Sil's axe cleaving wood.

Sil hoisted his axe onto his shoulder and frowned - he'd heard by now over the radio that there were all sorts of strange things happening in town and in the wider community. Some of the loggers had even abandoned their patches of the wood and headed back into town to make sure their families were safe. Alone, Sil had decided that he was probably better off where he was, as had most of the other loggers - a life in the trees was not exactly conducive to finding a partner - other than Mike's animal friends - Sil thought, a smile playing on his lips. He'd have to try and remember that one for the next time they got together to rib one another.

A strange moan came out of the trees from the direction of the previous noise, wiping the smile from Sil's lips as quickly as it had formed. The noise increased in both volume and quantity - whatever it was out there seemed to have picked up the pace.

Sil slipped the axe back into his hands - sometimes wild mountain lions and wolves made it down to where the loggers worked and he didn't want to face one without being ready. But then they were a lot quieter and didn't make crazy moaning noises.

A figure staggered into sight - his clothes were ripped and large scratches raked all over his skin, as if he had run through the woods uncaring that he kept on catching on thorns and brances. His eyes were glazed but seemed to be fixed on Sil - his arms reaching out to him. Sil stood rooted to the spot, he'd seen more than his fair share of horror films and knew what a zombie looked like, but zombies didn't really exist. It could just be some poor unfortunate who had been attacked in the woods.

Sil tightened his grip on the axe and planted his feet in the soft earth. "Hey, are you OK?" He called. The approaching figure didn't respond. "Are you hurt?" Sil called again, with no reply. "You look like gak if that helps". The man took no notice and continued his advance. "If you don't say anything man, I'm gonna have to hit you with this axe". The man didn't waver from his course and continued to stagger towards Sil.

Sil shrugged. "OK man, I warned you" he said as the man came within a few paces of him. He reversed the axe and raised it, swinging it hard at the man's arm, hoping to knock some sense into him.

The blow connected with a loud 'CRACK' as the bone broke. The man was knocked to the ground and Sil had to jump backwards as he tried to reach for him, ignoring the injury which would have put any normal man out for the count, or at least made him reconsider moving his arm for a while. Sil had not even seen guys high on drugs this crazy.

He reversed the axe again to bring the chopping edge back into play and backed off. The man staggered after him, regaining his feet as he slowly gave chase.

"Feth this man" said Sil. "Last warning - back off or you're going down for good". He let the man come on for another few metres before hefting his axe again and aiming a blow squarely at the guy's head. The axe bit cleanly through the bone and into the brain within. The moan which had been coming constantly from the man's lips gurgled and died and the body slumped to the ground. Sil wrenched the axe from the dead man and staggered backwards a little.

Feth, that had freaked him out. Sil stood breathing deeply for several minutes before he reached for his radio. "Hey, Mike, you there man?" He waited for several seconds "Mike, stop humping the god damn animals and pick up your radio! Something fethed up just happened". Another voice jumped onto the radio "Hey, this is John; is that Sil?"

"Hey John, yeah, it's Sil. You heard from Mike?" He scanned the woods as he talked. "You're just over the ridge from his patch aren't you?"

"Yeah, I can usually hear his chainsaw when the wind is blowing my way whenever I take a break but I can't hear it and now that I think about it, I've not heard it for a while now." said John, his voice crackling slightly as the woods and hills broke up his signal slightly. "He might have gone into town maybe?"

Sil frowned "Possibly John, yeah. Anyway, something fethed up just happened. Some guy just came stumbling out of the trees and attacked me."

"Feth man, someone just attacked you? You OK man?" Said John, his voice sounding shocked and concerned.

"Yeah man, I'm OK - I told the guy to stop, that I was going to hit him, everything - he just kept on coming. Then I broke his arm thinking it might stop him - he didn't even notice and kept on trying to attack me."

"Jesus, you serious, what happened?" John replied, incredulous.

"I backed off and told him that if he didn't stop, I was going to drop him. Stupid fether just kept on coming, so I had to plant my god damn axe in his fething head! Feth man, I've seen some crazy gak, but this was the craziest - I've seen people pumped on everything but never anything like this."

John was quiet while he tried to take it in "You killed him?"

"Yeah, he is dead - he looked like he had already been in a fight with a couple of thorn bushes" Sil rolled the body over onto the front with his foot so he didn't have to look into the guy's eyes. "What the..." Sil said. He clicked the radio back on "Hey, John, you still there man?"

There was a pause. "Yeah, I'm still here."

"I just rolled this guy over - I didn't see it before but it looks like he has been shot, at least twice - he's got a couple of holes blown almost clean through him - half his damn back is missing."

"Man, what the hell are you saying?" John said. "You taking the feth?"

"No way, I'm on the level - this guy can't have been alive when I chopped him."

The radio buzzed in his hand as several other loggers came onto the air with their questions and comments but Sil was no longer listening - he was trying to work out what the hell to do.

We really need to establish a timezone.. cause it is totally confusin' me atm. And I think the story is moving way to fast.

True and they need to meet up soon in order to try to make this not jump all over the place.

I know. I mean, this is too early into the RP to bring the zombies in! I mean, even Ghosty said that was the idea - meet up - then frag some zombies. The zombies ain't even have supposed to reach us yet (so said Ghosty earlier on). Posting in the future tense... really doesn't work unless you're actually moving the RP forward in time and everyone else is happy with that.

So. What do we do now? [/endrant]

(Ghosty, ya really need to step in here)

well i'm still galavanting about town and haven't seen any zombies yet but I agree some sort of time order needs to be developed cause ghosty hasn't said theirs zombies so i am under the assumption that GM trumps all, therefore no zombies have reached the town yet because the last thing he said was that the policemen at the edge of town had just found a deer with its butt hanging off

Indeed. But then half the players go on RPing about zombs anyway.

Tbh, I say noone does anymore RPing until Ghosty gets here and clears this whole thing up.

-insert Ghosty here-

Agreed. I thought the zombies were running around when I got to my intro post, then I saw that they were magic vanishing zombies so decided to wait

LOL "magic vanishing zombies"

good call on no RP till ghosty clears this up though I've just finished my bit and was about to post it :(

[OOC: I've not put any times on mine to keep it loose and able to fit in anywhere within the RP's of others.

However, the initial blurb suggested that it was in the logging community that the plague started, so it is reasonable to expect that my character might encounter the zombies first. Although not explicitly mentioned, the zombie in my RP was quite fresh, meaning that it was probably in the first wave. It could have been shot by hunters/etc in the wilderness, who were then turned themselves.

It was my assumption that everyone was starting more or less in the same community of small towns/logging camps etc that were mentioned at the start of the blurb, meaning that they would be right at the forefront of the plague before it became acknowledged.]

I think your in the clear as your not actually *in* town but outside it in the middle of nowhere but look at GES and Karlons Posts where the zombies are all over tthe town and killing everyone

We're all in the same town. OP I believe.

Well, town and surrounding area.

Ghostyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

Geddown 'ere now.

Anyways, I always saw (and still do) the Zombs getting here about half way through page three. And that was not counting the posts that have already forwarded the story too much.

FM Ninja 048 wrote:I think your in the clear as your not actually *in* town but outside it in the middle of nowhere but look at GES and Karlons Posts where the zombies are all over tthe town and killing everyone

Yeah. I'm in that same down. Oh look, no zombies!

However, I have mentioned the radio talking about riots/etc... I can go back and change it to say that there have been disappearances and a couple of brutal murders?

That would probably fit in better with an earlier stage of infection?

Guys, how about we just, instead of suffering the horrors of mass editing, just leave the posts alone.

However, we can agree on what to discount from the other posts.

Personally, I say that a few riots, murders and an increased amount of crime should be fine. Also, maybe (currently or for some fun later on) some vehicles should come (before the zombs) - reffugees. They may well have the "flu".

But, any and all mention of zombies stomping around should be discounted.

In the end, it's all down to what everyone else thinks and the overall ruling of Ghosty.

I'd agree. And the "riots" etc are only really a handful of people shouting outside the local police station/etc. After all, it is only really being reported on local radio stations, since we are tucked out of the way. Perhaps there is a mention of a few murders on the state news or something?

I think we should keep in mind that he said it starts after the pope's speech so riots are likely. Then keep the zombies to the minimum and just have everyone meet up and go from there.

Well, I guess instead of riots we could say protests...

or something...

Tbh, I think there's just gonna be a lot of unsettled people.. and some dumb people who just think the pope's off his head.

Anyways, I'm off for an hour. Maybe Ghosty will be back by then.

EDIT:

Also, n0t_u - your sig is win.