Fine, I explore the goddamn cave with a flashlight and the bat. If I hear growling from a bear or something, turn the light off and back away slowly. Do not swing the flashlight around quickly everywhere like I'm some idiot trying to actually spook a bear in its cave. Presumably Marley will pounce from behind if it gets real.
The Stand
- Thread starter Sonereal
- Start date
WhiteRobber
Twinkle twinkle Wunderbar
Steve Greg woke up from this creepy, eerie dream.
"Hmm.... What am I doing here? Circling the city , knowing that the moron Jack Wilson is still there, turning everyone against me.... As if Captain Tripps wasn't enough.... Screw this, I'll take my chances. Seattle's a dead end. Time to get to Spokane!" he thought. Spokane was 270 miles to the east.His trusty Chevrolet Suburban C20 could manage to reach Spokane in about half a day, provided there's no crap in the way....
But, first things first, a proper goodbye to his arch-enemy.
Steve drove to the edge of town, his his car, and sneaked in the city. The target building was close..... but something felt off. he sneaked closer... entered the building... Hmm, Jack should've been there....
"Hey, whatchu' doin' 'ehe?" asked a voice from behind.
"Oh, hey, Jack. It's me, Steve. I just wanted to say goodbye...."
"Leavin'?"
"Yup!"
"That green Chevy hidden near the highway is yours?'
"Yes...?" asked Steve, unsure as to how Jack knew of his car.
"Then you ain't leavin' no more! I popped your tires!" said Jack, and started laughing.
"You... WHAT??????????"
Steve pulled out his machete and charged at Jack. Jack barely dodged the hit, but his hand was wounded. He screamed in pain, as Steve kicked him in the stomach and left.
He ran to his car... and indeed, one of the tires was popped. No matter. He quickly took it out of the hideout... but a strange murmur caught his attention. Maybe that moron Jack Wilson made too much noise? Or was it someone else? It didn't matter... they were close. Steve changed the popped tire quickly and took off. Spokane was the target.Driving on the wrong side of the road was a little unusual, but when the normal lanes are overflooded with stopped cars, it's a must.
About ten hours later, Steve saw a sign reading "Spokane: 1 mile ", and some of the buildings could be seen in the distance. Overjoyed, Steve didn't look at the fuel meter, which was ticking off it's last drop of fuel just as Steve reached the city limit.
Crap.
"Hmm.... What am I doing here? Circling the city , knowing that the moron Jack Wilson is still there, turning everyone against me.... As if Captain Tripps wasn't enough.... Screw this, I'll take my chances. Seattle's a dead end. Time to get to Spokane!" he thought. Spokane was 270 miles to the east.His trusty Chevrolet Suburban C20 could manage to reach Spokane in about half a day, provided there's no crap in the way....
But, first things first, a proper goodbye to his arch-enemy.
Steve drove to the edge of town, his his car, and sneaked in the city. The target building was close..... but something felt off. he sneaked closer... entered the building... Hmm, Jack should've been there....
"Hey, whatchu' doin' 'ehe?" asked a voice from behind.
"Oh, hey, Jack. It's me, Steve. I just wanted to say goodbye...."
"Leavin'?"
"Yup!"
"That green Chevy hidden near the highway is yours?'
"Yes...?" asked Steve, unsure as to how Jack knew of his car.
"Then you ain't leavin' no more! I popped your tires!" said Jack, and started laughing.
"You... WHAT??????????"
Steve pulled out his machete and charged at Jack. Jack barely dodged the hit, but his hand was wounded. He screamed in pain, as Steve kicked him in the stomach and left.
He ran to his car... and indeed, one of the tires was popped. No matter. He quickly took it out of the hideout... but a strange murmur caught his attention. Maybe that moron Jack Wilson made too much noise? Or was it someone else? It didn't matter... they were close. Steve changed the popped tire quickly and took off. Spokane was the target.Driving on the wrong side of the road was a little unusual, but when the normal lanes are overflooded with stopped cars, it's a must.
About ten hours later, Steve saw a sign reading "Spokane: 1 mile ", and some of the buildings could be seen in the distance. Overjoyed, Steve didn't look at the fuel meter, which was ticking off it's last drop of fuel just as Steve reached the city limit.
Crap.
arya126
Squad Leader
May 23rd, 1980.
Last night when I stopped, I could clearly see the outline of the city. It was ablaze, although the nature of the blaze eluded me from such a distance. Had gangs taken to the streets and made the city a battlefield? Had a careless person accidentally let a fire get away from him?
In any case I approached cautiously, with an arrow nocked in my bow. I circled around the city at a distance looking for a source of fresh water. But before I did this I hid the truck, camouflaging it a ways away from the road so it blended in with the nearby greenery. I took the keys with me. Worst case scenario I could find another in the city after all.
I made camp last night where I could, and if I could not find fresh water, I made camp atop a good hill with a clear line of sight to all sides. No fire. Fire makes you visible.
In the morning I went hunting with my bow, and my pistol as a backup. Should I catch anything, I salt the meat the best I can for preservation and use the other parts of the animal to make as many water skins as I can.
But what am I doing here? Should I help those poor people in the city? If there are any left that is. Should I circle the city and go on, towards the coast?
I resolve to go into the city and see if any have injuries I can patch up. Should I find people, I should inquire for information as to what has caused the blaze, and the state of the city. After all, surely it would be easier to survive in tis world with followers right?
Make makeshift surgical mask, put it on, steal a truck at the gas station, fill it with gas, put non-perishable foodstuffs, drinkstuffs, and money from the cash register in the truck, and drive to Lake Granby, Colorado. Avoid major highways and cities along the way.
JohannaK
Heroically Clueless
I wanna join. crafting my character, but my start will be in San Francisco.
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2008
- Messages
- 14,928
17
You throw down smoke and flee back to your father's house. The shouting faded as you went, so you don't think you've been followed.
17
You walked deeper into the cave, flashlight in one hand and bat in the other, with your trusty Bobcat tailing behind you. You turn a corner and an old man says, "Hello Eddie!"
The man is sitting on a pillow. He's flanked on both sides by torches. In front of him is a treasure chest.
9/17
Truck is camo'd best you could camo it.
You walk around the city at a distance. You see a grocery store on the outskirts, far away from the fire. But since you don't see fresh water, you do that hill that.
17
And that happens.
OOC: For real guys. When I say "bold actions for major actions", I didn't mean "hunt" and "mundane thing #2".
4
You go into the city.
You find nobody.
You try to head back out.
You realize that the fire has cut off the way you entered the city.
20
You walk up to a workshop. Door's locked. You're just about to grab a brick when a woman yells, "Who's there?"
You answer.
The middle-aged red-head opens the door and smiled up at you. "I thought everybody had gone to Williamson when they heard about that damn leper colony the radio DJ kept blabbing about."
****
You all have a dream. In the dream, you walk into an empty classroom. The leaves are changing color, and a woman is sitting at her desk reading a book. She looks up from her book and smiles motherly, "Welcome to your first day. I'm just waiting for the rest of the class to show up now..."
Then you wake up.
Go East. Most of you hear in your minds.
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2008
- Messages
- 14,928
1
Everything was a success up until the moment you tried to steal a truck. As soon as you open the door, bullets are whizzing above your head as the owner runs out the gas station doors. You try starting up the truck, but there's no gas.
You're now in the truck. The gunman is approaching.
WhiteRobber
Twinkle twinkle Wunderbar
Steve Greg walks, machete prepared, ready to swing it at anyone who might attack. He continues his road by foot, as the car is dead.
Mosher
Mushroom dad
Search the town for useful supplies - vehicles, gasoline, food, firearms. Ogunquit is a small town, so if there any survivors, I should know them, so talk to anyone familiar I see.
Robert Can't
Éponine
22nd May
And I am alive.
It makes me doubt that I am about to die, at least not from the same ailment that killed those that line the streets, their faces white as paper. I've stayed mostly in the Embassy, there was another who survived there, a minor adjutant, but he went crazy, jumped out of a first floor window and ran off as fast as his broken leg could carry him. We have food enough for a few weeks and the tap still seems to be giving water though I'm not sure for how long. Eventually I'm going to need to find a Doctor for you. I don't even know if there is a doctor left alive in this state. What state even is this? Is there a special capital state? I have no idea, I'm not a native here;
I'm a stranger in a strange land.
23rd May
The sound of the crunch of the adjutant's bone as him impacted with the floor haunted my dreams. The white lady was there too, glowing and ominous. Looking over me as an hawk or an eagle. The White Woman would whisper something, but it could never be heard, so thick was a red haze that separated us. and then, blocked ever by the mist I re-watched the adjutant jumping out of the window crying out that all were dead and all was gone. Then I'd see your father, standing by his desk almost awkwardly, like he always used to do. He spoke to me "We came here to make a lasting peace, the only truly lasting peace is death. All else is chaos. I hope Her Majesty appreciated my service." Then he would be swallowed by the White Lady's dress and she would drag is aside revealing his face, white and so horrifically dead.
Today I went out to look for someone,anyone with medical expertise. I found no one, only street upon desolate street of the dead, white as chalk and cold as stone. I found a pharmacy. I took a sizeable amount of medicine. It astounded me once again while doing this how alien the USA is to me. Here the pharmacy is a business, everything costs several times more and the shops are set up in such a way to make money. How a nation can support to be civilized without a National Health Service is beyond me. Not that it had seemed like that would last long anyway with the election of PM Thatcher last year. Fortunately it seems like we are going to be spared her time as Prime Minister. In all likelihood she is dead. In all likelihood it sounds almost blasphemous when thinking of how I managed to survive the odds and end up here with you. Perhaps we shall live to see another day in this strange country and then maybe one day I shall take you back to the place they call England, a green and pleasant part of the British Isles it has always captured by heart with its beauty and verity.
On the way into town I did see an single survivor. Or rather he saw me. As I was walking along he accosted me and threatened me with his knife; his motivations quite obviously in his trousers. However I got the best of him with my many years of student bar experience and kicked his legs from under him before running off. I suppose in a wilderness where everyone's dead unless you are a necrophiliac then there probably isn't that much opportunity to, well you know.
25th May
Sorry about not writing yesterday. Bad things happened. I ended up walking into town again, well I say that but walking into town is completely different in the USA as to what its like in small country towns in England. Then I saw the man from yesterday, he had two of his friends with him. They attacked me and eventually I couldn't beat them off. They dragged me back to their hideout then did what evil men do it that situation. I proceeded to slit their throats in their sleep and take some of their supplies back to the Embassy. I don't feel like writing much more about the last two days. Its not going to be something I will have to remind myself of.
26th May
Your farther was a wonderful man. I miss him so much, he was a bit ditzy at times and he was monumentally clumsy in nearly every aspect of life (Yes, including that) but when it came to his work he was a genius. A born peacemaker his work with the Russians in the past couple of years have kept us from falling off from the brink of MAD.
MAD seems like a redundant concept now - considering that we are all dead. MAD was this thing to do with two massive world superpowers who both had the ability to pretty much wipe out human life as we know it. It was men like your father that tried to stop us from destroying each other while men like Regan and Lyndon B. Johnson seem to have no concept for the value of humanity.
I miss your father very much. I fear for my safety and I fear for you. Whatever this world holds for us I fear it.
I dreamed of a cow standing in some tall grass. As I got closer to the cow the grass changed. The long green grass of England gave way to the short mown lawns of Washington. As the cow turned to face me its features melted away until it formed into a shimmering pool in front of me. The pool, like a molten metal, then remoulded itself into various shapes until it stood in front of me; mine own image. It whispered in my ear. What is said is something I may tell you one day, but I may also choose not to. I woke up suddenly with a feeling of utter hopelessness and despair.
And I am alive.
It makes me doubt that I am about to die, at least not from the same ailment that killed those that line the streets, their faces white as paper. I've stayed mostly in the Embassy, there was another who survived there, a minor adjutant, but he went crazy, jumped out of a first floor window and ran off as fast as his broken leg could carry him. We have food enough for a few weeks and the tap still seems to be giving water though I'm not sure for how long. Eventually I'm going to need to find a Doctor for you. I don't even know if there is a doctor left alive in this state. What state even is this? Is there a special capital state? I have no idea, I'm not a native here;
I'm a stranger in a strange land.
23rd May
The sound of the crunch of the adjutant's bone as him impacted with the floor haunted my dreams. The white lady was there too, glowing and ominous. Looking over me as an hawk or an eagle. The White Woman would whisper something, but it could never be heard, so thick was a red haze that separated us. and then, blocked ever by the mist I re-watched the adjutant jumping out of the window crying out that all were dead and all was gone. Then I'd see your father, standing by his desk almost awkwardly, like he always used to do. He spoke to me "We came here to make a lasting peace, the only truly lasting peace is death. All else is chaos. I hope Her Majesty appreciated my service." Then he would be swallowed by the White Lady's dress and she would drag is aside revealing his face, white and so horrifically dead.
Today I went out to look for someone,anyone with medical expertise. I found no one, only street upon desolate street of the dead, white as chalk and cold as stone. I found a pharmacy. I took a sizeable amount of medicine. It astounded me once again while doing this how alien the USA is to me. Here the pharmacy is a business, everything costs several times more and the shops are set up in such a way to make money. How a nation can support to be civilized without a National Health Service is beyond me. Not that it had seemed like that would last long anyway with the election of PM Thatcher last year. Fortunately it seems like we are going to be spared her time as Prime Minister. In all likelihood she is dead. In all likelihood it sounds almost blasphemous when thinking of how I managed to survive the odds and end up here with you. Perhaps we shall live to see another day in this strange country and then maybe one day I shall take you back to the place they call England, a green and pleasant part of the British Isles it has always captured by heart with its beauty and verity.
On the way into town I did see an single survivor. Or rather he saw me. As I was walking along he accosted me and threatened me with his knife; his motivations quite obviously in his trousers. However I got the best of him with my many years of student bar experience and kicked his legs from under him before running off. I suppose in a wilderness where everyone's dead unless you are a necrophiliac then there probably isn't that much opportunity to, well you know.
25th May
Sorry about not writing yesterday. Bad things happened. I ended up walking into town again, well I say that but walking into town is completely different in the USA as to what its like in small country towns in England. Then I saw the man from yesterday, he had two of his friends with him. They attacked me and eventually I couldn't beat them off. They dragged me back to their hideout then did what evil men do it that situation. I proceeded to slit their throats in their sleep and take some of their supplies back to the Embassy. I don't feel like writing much more about the last two days. Its not going to be something I will have to remind myself of.
26th May
Your farther was a wonderful man. I miss him so much, he was a bit ditzy at times and he was monumentally clumsy in nearly every aspect of life (Yes, including that) but when it came to his work he was a genius. A born peacemaker his work with the Russians in the past couple of years have kept us from falling off from the brink of MAD.
MAD seems like a redundant concept now - considering that we are all dead. MAD was this thing to do with two massive world superpowers who both had the ability to pretty much wipe out human life as we know it. It was men like your father that tried to stop us from destroying each other while men like Regan and Lyndon B. Johnson seem to have no concept for the value of humanity.
I miss your father very much. I fear for my safety and I fear for you. Whatever this world holds for us I fear it.
I dreamed of a cow standing in some tall grass. As I got closer to the cow the grass changed. The long green grass of England gave way to the short mown lawns of Washington. As the cow turned to face me its features melted away until it formed into a shimmering pool in front of me. The pool, like a molten metal, then remoulded itself into various shapes until it stood in front of me; mine own image. It whispered in my ear. What is said is something I may tell you one day, but I may also choose not to. I woke up suddenly with a feeling of utter hopelessness and despair.
Spoiler :
"Well let see if one of these key can give me access to the armory if it is still intact"
::Edward move thought the build and head to the armory::
mechaerik
Tuturuu!
Find the nearest police station and attempt to loot it.
Celticfury
King
Joseph woke with a start. The Vega's interior was filled with darkness, illuminated only by the moon and stars that filled the night canopy. The only sound coming from outside was the symphony of crickets. Slowly, Joseph sat up, struggling to rub the sleep from his eyes.
"Ugh, goodness. Well, that was certainly, uh, something, I, *yawn*, guess", he announced groggily to no one in particular. "A bit strange, to be sure, but as far as most dreams I've had, nothing too odd." He yawned again. "Go East. Right. Thank you, subconscious, for reminding me again that I need to find David. I just hope he was still in Price when this all went down. What time is it?" He switch on the car and glanced at the radio. "Barely 3 am?! well, that's what I get for sleeping in this cramped little vehicle. Perhaps I should have grabbed the Roadmaster after all" he grumbled, before shutting of the engine and returning to sleep.
When Joseph finally reawakened, the sun was just beginning its journey across the sky. Shaking himself awake, Joseph pulled out an old, beat travel map of the Southwest. "Ok, lets see here. If I headed straight along Route 50, I hit the Border Inn at, well, the border, and then, hm, not much else until I get to Hinckley. Loneliest Road in America indeed. Of course, if the situation is anything like I saw back in Ely, the highway will be blocked up for miles." He turned back to check on his provisions. "And it loos like I have just less than a couple days worth of water left, and barely more food than that." He scanned the map for any other settlements. "Oh, but down here, we've got Baker Reservoir. Not much in the way of civilization, but, I think it should have at least a good, what, 20, 30 homes? And who knows, maybe the locals will have left something behind before the fled or decided to give up the ghost." Joseph put away the map, hit the ignition, and began to pull back out onto Route 50. "So, battle plan is as follows; head a few miles down to the reservoir, spend a day or, heck, maybe two, scavenging for supplies, and maybe even get a proper rest in a proper bed while I'm down there."
"Ugh, goodness. Well, that was certainly, uh, something, I, *yawn*, guess", he announced groggily to no one in particular. "A bit strange, to be sure, but as far as most dreams I've had, nothing too odd." He yawned again. "Go East. Right. Thank you, subconscious, for reminding me again that I need to find David. I just hope he was still in Price when this all went down. What time is it?" He switch on the car and glanced at the radio. "Barely 3 am?! well, that's what I get for sleeping in this cramped little vehicle. Perhaps I should have grabbed the Roadmaster after all" he grumbled, before shutting of the engine and returning to sleep.
When Joseph finally reawakened, the sun was just beginning its journey across the sky. Shaking himself awake, Joseph pulled out an old, beat travel map of the Southwest. "Ok, lets see here. If I headed straight along Route 50, I hit the Border Inn at, well, the border, and then, hm, not much else until I get to Hinckley. Loneliest Road in America indeed. Of course, if the situation is anything like I saw back in Ely, the highway will be blocked up for miles." He turned back to check on his provisions. "And it loos like I have just less than a couple days worth of water left, and barely more food than that." He scanned the map for any other settlements. "Oh, but down here, we've got Baker Reservoir. Not much in the way of civilization, but, I think it should have at least a good, what, 20, 30 homes? And who knows, maybe the locals will have left something behind before the fled or decided to give up the ghost." Joseph put away the map, hit the ignition, and began to pull back out onto Route 50. "So, battle plan is as follows; head a few miles down to the reservoir, spend a day or, heck, maybe two, scavenging for supplies, and maybe even get a proper rest in a proper bed while I'm down there."
dragonprobably
The Poster Formerly Known as MartinLuther
May 21, 1980.
Dora had the dream again, the one where she is whisked away in a tornado then she looks out the window to see two women. She opens her eyes, that's when the dream always ends just as she sees them. If only she could dream long enough to ask them who they are or what they want. She sighs, wipes the crust from her eyes, and lifts herself off of her futon. She opens the door to see her dog Toot. She smiles at Toot as Toot jumps on her.
Dora walks to her kitchen and searches her cupboards, Toot following her every step and sticking his head into every cupboard. All of them are empty. Dora rolls her eyes. "Not again," she thinks to herself. She gets dressed and heads to the little grocery store across the street, tripping over dead bodies along the way. Dora dreads the fact that she is the only one alive on her entire street. Dora searches the store for food and supplies.
(OOC: I swear to do the history tomorrow. I swear!)
Dora had the dream again, the one where she is whisked away in a tornado then she looks out the window to see two women. She opens her eyes, that's when the dream always ends just as she sees them. If only she could dream long enough to ask them who they are or what they want. She sighs, wipes the crust from her eyes, and lifts herself off of her futon. She opens the door to see her dog Toot. She smiles at Toot as Toot jumps on her.
Dora walks to her kitchen and searches her cupboards, Toot following her every step and sticking his head into every cupboard. All of them are empty. Dora rolls her eyes. "Not again," she thinks to herself. She gets dressed and heads to the little grocery store across the street, tripping over dead bodies along the way. Dora dreads the fact that she is the only one alive on her entire street. Dora searches the store for food and supplies.
(OOC: I swear to do the history tomorrow. I swear!)
christos200
Never tell me the odds
Wang Cheng knows that he cannot stay forever in his father's home. He has to go out. So fully equipped (see the link for what he takes), he goes out of the house and heads once again to New York City, hoping that the monsters have left.
As he is walking, he hears a strange noise coming from a nearby completely destroyed house. Cheng goes to check what happens, with his hunting rifle ready for action. When he enters, he sees his uncle Wang Ma, an old Buddhist Monk with long white beard, shaved hair and wearing a yellow robe, drinking some tea.
"Uncle!" Cheng, happily, shouts. "What are you doing here?"
"Nephew!" Ma, excited to see his nephew, also shouts. "Buddha bless you. I am praying to Buddha. That's why I am still alive, it seems."
Ma had came to USA one week before the flu broke our, in order to visit his brother. Ma is the Abbot of the Shaolin Temple and thus one of the greatest martial artists in all of China.
"Uncle, will you help me search for survivors?"
"Buddha bless you. I shall help you."
"Last time I went to the city, I heard some people shouting "monsters!". You should equip yourself."
"I only need this." Ma says while pointing at a bamboo stick. Ma is so able that he does not need any other weapons.
So, Cheng and Ma go to the New York City to search for survivors.
As he is walking, he hears a strange noise coming from a nearby completely destroyed house. Cheng goes to check what happens, with his hunting rifle ready for action. When he enters, he sees his uncle Wang Ma, an old Buddhist Monk with long white beard, shaved hair and wearing a yellow robe, drinking some tea.
"Uncle!" Cheng, happily, shouts. "What are you doing here?"
"Nephew!" Ma, excited to see his nephew, also shouts. "Buddha bless you. I am praying to Buddha. That's why I am still alive, it seems."
Ma had came to USA one week before the flu broke our, in order to visit his brother. Ma is the Abbot of the Shaolin Temple and thus one of the greatest martial artists in all of China.
"Uncle, will you help me search for survivors?"
"Buddha bless you. I shall help you."
"Last time I went to the city, I heard some people shouting "monsters!". You should equip yourself."
"I only need this." Ma says while pointing at a bamboo stick. Ma is so able that he does not need any other weapons.
So, Cheng and Ma go to the New York City to search for survivors.
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2008
- Messages
- 14,928
The game will update Monday. All actions will be processed with the update. If you decide that your action doesn't warrant a roll, and you rather actually write a story, go for it. Otherwise, there's a 25% chance I'll roll for actions tomorrow.
