• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Realistic or Modern Nᴇᴄʀᴏsɪs

Characters
Here
Other
Here

Lorsh

Varlot
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
1722577593550.png


  • 1. Remember, you can die. It may be the result of your decisions, or simply the luck of the draw! Play it safe and smart, and you're more likely to live longer. GM-wise, I won't be a massive dickhead as a GM, I'm just less of a plot armour guy. Anything can happen, and it makes for good drama. You can't have a zombie roleplay without death.

    2. You can control generic NPCs for passing interactions and whatnot, but do not use them to gain an advantage. Otherwise, just leave NPCs to the GM, for the most part! Ask if you want to play a special NPC for your character, or anything along those lines.

    3. In a similar vein, you can describe zombies that your character encounters, but don't 'spawn' them or exert a lot of control over them. Same goes with human antagonists, animals, etc.


    4. Remember, 2003! Locations, brands, etc. are from the real world as it was during that time. Keep in mind that the outbreak began in early-mid April.

    5. Player char-on-char conflict can be resolved via roll and/or discussion.

    6. Try not to assume success for your char's actions, unless it was hashed out beforehand. Phrasing them as attempts is usually good.

    7. If you die, you're able to make a new character.




 
Last edited:




Washington, D.C. | April 13th, 2003

Sunday | 6:30 AM, Sunrise

These first days and nights were an unceasing orgy of wanton violence, leaving an abysmal number of dead. Nobody knows how the infection managed to spread so fast - people just started going crazy, murdering each other in broad daylight. Confusion reigned supreme during the first hours. Somebody leaked a video of D.C. cops gunning down what looked like some poor, strung-out kid from LeDroit Park for no reason, and the whole thing quickly began to be reported as a race riot. You'd think it was Helter Skelter, because it wasn't just happening in D.C. Most people didn't realize what was truly going on until the ghouls came crashing through their living room windows.

Over the weekend, mass panic ensued. The Metropolitan Police were overrun. A shelter-in-place order was issued, though most people tried to flee the cities - can they be blamed? Everywhere was compromised - people were turning all the time. But now, the interstates are jammed to hell and back, and many streets are likewise glutted with dead bodies and crashed cars.

The sky is choked with smoke as fires across the metro area continue to burn. The inferno is especially horrific in the tree-studded Alexandria. Nobody has been combating the fires in any meaningful way since Friday, when the fire crews were overrun. The news mentioned that the military may perform 'precision strikes' to demolish certain parts of the city in order to prevent the fires from spreading. On Saturday, a skeptical commentator on Fox 5 mentioned that it would be used to cover up the bombing of American civilians, before getting into a expletive-ridden argument with the hosts that resulted in cutting to commercial.

It's Sunday, now. The lights work, water's running, and the TV is still on, at least - though, it's as unhelpful as ever. The sound of screams and inhuman bellows, gunfire, and sirens have become ubiquitous.

1722660283007.png


Charlie 'Chip' Woods​

ReverseTex ReverseTex

The meteorologist is home at his Springvale Residence. Living alone meant that there was no potential for somebody infected to be taking shelter with you, so there's that. Chip's home is quite spacious, but several windows have been broken since Friday evening, when either looters or those crazy people ended up busting a bunch of them.

1722718006548.png

Over in nearby Bethesda, Maryland, things presumably aren't much better. The police sirens haven't stopped blaring all night, so it was difficult to get any sleep - not to mention, the nerves. None of the neighbors have come by, and work quit calling yesterday. Down the block, one of the houses caught fire last night, but it seems to have burnt itself out, finally. The streets on Chip's block look relatively clear... enough to drive through, at least. There's a few odd cars with all their doors open in the middle of the street, splattered with blood, but they could be maneuvered around.

Twitchy figures linger around... but none are focused on the house of the meteorologist. Occasionally, they'll stumble around, attracted by distant noise, or some sort of curiosity. One neighbor - a woman Chip knew from across the street - is completely in the nude and painted in blood, covered in scratches and numerous missing chunks of flesh. Her eyes are milky, and she has what looks like a length of somebody's intestine dangling from her mouth. She's the only one who seems interested in the house... At three in the morning, she ran her arms through the broken windows, but didn't climb inside - she left the floor flecked with blood. Right now, she's out in the yard, eating the mutiliatd remains of somebody's dog... cat, maybe.


Bima Mataram​

Nomad13 Nomad13

The Holiday Inn is just down the street from the National Smithsonian. The streets are relatively clear... one might have a feeling that there are snipers up there in the museum, since anyone that seems to be having a panic attack or drunken bender within sight of the Smithsonian usually has their skull explode after a minute or so. Gas-masked cops, soldiers, and assorted federal agents sometimes leave the perimeter of the National Mall and patrol the streets, killing anything that moves. Helicopters take off and land regularly at the Mall, attracting a good deal of both the infected and desperate civilians. Some other hotel residents have mentioned that they've seen people get shot on sight, while other times they were simply told off. Anybody that looks sick seems to get a bullet, though. They're not taking any chances.

1722717802962.png

Yesterday, quite a few Chinooks landed right in the park. The big kahunas of the Pentagon, the White House and Capitol Hill were loaded up into the bellies of the huge choppers and flown off to who-knows-where, but the majority of their security detail has been left behind, as if to defend the buildings themselves.

The Holiday Inn hasn't been particularly safe, though. Some people are always banging on their rooms and making strange noises. There is usually someone, somewhere, screaming or gurgling. When that starts to happen, people pile up furniture in front of their doors to block them, but it does little for the noise. Still, there isn't anybody immediately threatening in Bima's hallway, as far as he knows. Sometimes, people come and go, carrying food they've stolen from the kitchens or vending machines.


Jeb Boyd​

SMTFan SMTFan

The condominium from across the street caught fire sometime in the night, and the blaze is still going by the time dawn arrives. It doesn't look like it will spread, at least. Nate Simmons and his wife went to go look for their son and never returned. The Williams, Chuns, and Farmers have all likewise packed up and left after the news started talking about rescue stations in Charles County.

Melissa Taylor had made it back after losing her parents on Indian Head Highway, and later died from her injuries inside her room. A few guys kicked down her door, put some gloves and masks and threw her body outside.

The dead have been around, but they've been keeping away, for the most part... but things got especially bad this morning, when a car alarm got set off by something at about four o'clock in the morning, and has only just fallen silent. Now a bunch of those psychos are wandering right outside. Melissa's body has practically had all flesh stripped from the bone, yet it's just starting to move.

Jeb is thankfully armed, possessing a a double-barreled, side-by-side, double-trigger 12 gauge shotgun, and a box of thirty buckshot shells. Another guy from the building, Brayton Knacks, has a little pocket pistol, a Beretta Tomcat in .32 ACP. He and his wife Felicia were planning on leaving this morning, if not for increased activity outside. Everyone is looking to leave, really; only Tom Yates and Jake Palmer have stated their intention to stay in Potomac Heights. "No point in driving away from D.C. If one place is gonna get secure, it's there," Jake said, while still acknowledging it was too dangerous to drive into the district right now.

Brayton winced, peaking out the curtains at the wiggling, croaking corpse of Melissa down in the parking lot. "Man, you're fuckin' crazy if you wanna stay here. We're too close to the city. Gotta get the fuck outta here before they finally notice us."

"They ain't gonna notice us, 'cause we're laying low,"
says Tom, a forklift operator. "They're gonna kill our asses soon as we step outside. Stay, c'mon! Those folks who left yesterday's are as good as dead, man, c'mon." He shouldered his golf club.

1722803898875.png


Michael J. Martin / Andrea D'Agostini​

americanCaeser americanCaeser / JudasMichael JudasMichael

It was a routine check-up that turned into a siege by the dead. The hospital admitted plenty of people for non VA-related reasons, the day everything went sideways. Mike's appointment was canceled, but before he could leave and a huge mob of civilians fleeing from the infected broke into the hospital and nearly trampled him to death. He was saved by a Veterans Affairs policeman, Officer Cliff Owens, who took him and a few of his fellow hospital staffers to shelter in the maintenance room.

1722813172538.png

It's safe to assume that the waiting area turned into a blood bath. People pounded at the door, but they weren't let in by the cop. Mike was a veteran - they couldn't exactly leave him for dead and feel good about themselves, but those other 'exceptional circumstances' patients had to bite the bullet if anyone was to survive. Half of them were covered in wounds, and bleeding all over, even if they weren't dead yet.

Nurse Andrea had managed to keep himself alive, too, along with a Dr. Harold Radley, and Patricia Trudison, a custodian. Working with Officer Owens, they'd managed to secure the maintenance room and evacuate a single patient into it, while the others were torn apart. It was better than nothing. The maintenance room feels a bit cramped with five people in it... there's not much privacy, or food, but there's a sink and a hose in a closet.

1722894841941.png

It's been over twenty-four hours since the group took shelter in here. Piss in the corner, shit in a cardboard box... The rationed Tic-Tacs, chewing gum, and Patty's lunch are gone. Everybody's hungry - desperately so. At least the heat has died down in the hospital - perhaps some of them have since wandered away, now that the big 'feast' was over?

Everyone is called out to a meeting by Cliff, the cop. There are wheelie chairs for everyone. "Listen, people. Mike, Andrea, Harold, uh - Patty. It's been nice getting to know y'all, but we've gotta get the hell outta dodge. I'm gonna be honest, I don't know if I can protect everyone. I only got a mag and a half," he says, holding up his Beretta M9. "...But I know that we can't stay in here and just starve to death, because yeah - there ain't no food." The doctor and custodian nod along... they're reluctant to step outside the safety of this room, so they hadn't brought it up. Still, they can't deny Cliff's words.


Elias Kelliman​

Lord Bradorian Lord Bradorian


At the clubhouse in Deanwood, the gang is all here. There's Elias Kelliman and his friends, Matthew, Ray, Dominic, and Andrew. They're like brothers to each other, after all.

1722810311671.png

Normally, the guys liked to play their favorite rap songs at their dingy clubhouse, but as of late, things have been hush-hush. All of the windows have been boarded up at the ground level, and of course, Dommy has brought along his .38 Special; a snubnosed Smith and Wesson Centennial. He's only got three speedloaders of shells, with one empty and already in his gun - fifteen shots. Five round cylinder. Ray has a switchblade, Matt's got a bat, and Andrew has a butterfly knife. Not as good, but it was better than nothing.

Matt is getting antsy. He never stops arguing with Dom over the gun, either. "Okay, guys. I got cabin fever, or something, man. And we're running out of fuckin' food," he says. The gang's clubhouse just had soda, chips, beer, and candy, really. The fact that everyone was stoned most of the time didn't help matters.

"Yeah, fuck. Stay-in-place my ass," sneers Dom. Andrew just shrugs his shoulders.

Matt goes on. "Besides, isn't this a good time to go score big? Think about it. All that money and shit, jewelry stores, whatever, it's all out there, we could totally snag that shit up while everyone's worried about the crazies!"

"There's CCTV cameras, dickhead,"
Andrew murmurs. "They'll just put our asses in jail once this is all over and done with. Besides, that's too dangerous."

"What if it ain't ever over?"
Dom wonders, while Matt just shakes his head. "We'll wear masks. We'll some dish cloths. Ski masks and shit."
Andrew waves dismissively. "Okay, well, count me outta that shit. I'll hold down the fort."
"Fucking pussy,"
Matt says.

"So fucking tough and shit, man, fuck you," Andy scowls.



Virginia Audrey Baker
Alisutte Alisutte
(section written by logos logos )

1722900670523.png

A rapid sequence of polyphonic blips and bleeps accompanied the sound of low-pitched tapping; Virginia’s alarm was enough to wake her up. The Baker family’s corner of Edgewood is quiet. Virginia hears a car door slam shut.Outside, Mr. Baker is loading the family’s Honda Odyssey. He and the Missus had been running around D.C., stocking up on masks, gloves, and bottled water. Mr. Baker even purchased a Remington 870 and a box of 12-gauge shotgun shells. Over the last few days, he has been dismissing reports on the news about a virus in Europe. When the news hit him that the President was attacked by a staffer, though, he and Mrs. Baker made the decision to leave as soon as possible.As he walked inside, he saw his wife, the beautiful Frenchwoman he had met many years ago, standing in the entryway. Suddenly, an uncontrollable sob washed over him, and tears streamed down his face. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her body was taken over by uncontrollable twitching. Mr. Baker opened his arms. Genevieve rushed into them and tore off the flesh of his cheek. He embraced her, holding her tightly as she gnawed through the cartilage of his nose and peeled flesh from his bones. The birds chirped outside.




Alexandria, Virginia

Janus W. Bartosh​

logos logos

The fires are getting worse. Alexandria is burning to the ground. Bartosh Woodcraft is probably lost, and now the family home is in the path of the rapidly spreading blaze. The inferno is spreading throughout the black, slowly but surely... it's time to leave.

Mary-Ann is distraught. Her last phone call with her brother ended with him screaming and never really hanging up. That had happened on Friday, but she'd put her armor on for the sake of her children. She had begun packing things in the family vehicle, and has been pressuring her husband to get out Alexandria as soon as possible. She's been keeping up with the news and radio, too. "Charles County rescue stations - there's one in Hughesville. We can get picked up by the Maryland National Guard, there..." Mary-Ann says, hugging both of her children close.

"Mom. What about our house?" Lucas asks, looking at the neighbors' place burning down just across the street.

"It's okay, honey. We'll move into a bigger house." Emily just cries into her mother's shoulder. "Why won't they put out the fire...?"
"They're... busy, honey. Jan. We have to leave, now,"
Mary-Ann insists.

electric! electric!.png




Baltimore, Maryland

Jaden Darling​

Sagey Sagey

Downtown Baltimore is incredibly thick with the infected. There might be a hundred just out on the street alone. Now that most of the dead bodies have been picked clean or gotten up, they are wandering aimlessly, bumping into doors, climbing through shattered windows. Sometimes, people or animals can be heard screaming as their hiding places are finally uncovered, and the dead descend upon them. The streets are jammed with cars, many of them containing the reanimated forms of their passengers.

1722822129810.png

Most of the people down here that are still alive are hiding in buildings, or up on rooftops. Jaden might have noticed more than one person simply leap from some of the multi-storey buildings, just to end it all - refusing to live in this hellish world. One of them was a middle-aged woman who survived the fall, just barely - but she was so winded that she couldn't even scream when they started to crouch around her and eat her alive. Soon, what was left of her came back to life, and she was joining them in their quest for flesh, albeit at a crawl.

The water bowl can always be refilled for now, but the dog food bag in Jaden's apartment only has enough for one more chow time. His apartment is on the top floor, above some shop spaces that were for sale.



Max Dudek
lemonsnout lemonsnout
(section written by logos logos )

The golden light of the morning sun crept over Baltimore, blocked by the beige curtains in Room 217 – the refuge that Max Dudek and Billy Vickson settled down in for the night. The morning symphony of car horns, humming engines, and screeching tires were eerily absent, save for the distant wail of sirens, though not uncommon in this part of Baltimore. A sudden crash shook Max and Bubbs from their sleep, with the sound of glass shattering and a car alarm pounding like one of Jupie’s thundering drum solos in their heads.

Room 217 stunk. A Jim Bean bottle was laying on the ground, half of its contents spilled on the ugly carpet. A couple more bottles of emptied vodka, rum, and whiskey were on the bedside table and a handful of crushed beer cans laid in front of the television. The mirror was smudged with fingerprints and lipstick, white powder lay under the mirror with a credit card and a few crumpled dollar bills. Clothes littered the rest of the room. It must have been hot through the night because Max and Bubbs were left in their underwear when they woke up. The television itself was left mute throughout the night, but the electronic hum and occasional pop of the cathode ray radiated through the air.

The TV was on WBAL-TV 11, the local Baltimore News and Weather channel. Neither could read it, but the emergency warning broadcast scrolled along the screen’s margins. The shower was quietly trying its best to fill the tub of water, as they had left running through the night, to no avail.

Bubb rubbed his temples. He looked at the television again, grabbed the remote, and turned it off. "Fuuuuck... I feel like shit."

1722895792130.png
 
Last edited:
Elias Kelliman

03a8dfaf693f44a69cf65505ae16705a (1).jpeg
Elias was getting fucking sick of sitting around with his boys and listening to the world fall apart outside. It seemed so surreal to him, the chaos taking place out there, people killing eachother and shit, while he and his friends sat in the safety of their place. Relative safety. One dumbass almost rear-ended the dumbass in front of him and swerved to get out of the way, and barely hit the brakes before his Acura made a new door in the clubhouse. Besides that though, they'd been relatively undisturbed.

Elias felt like he had to go out and do something. This was once-in-a-lifetime type shit - and once it was all over, he was sure that the cops would crackdown like crazy. You only live once, that's what everybody says, and Elias figured they were right. That's why when Matt started schemin', he was right there with him. Taking a big inhale off of the cowboy killer he held between his fingers and grinning as he exhaled, he hung on every word. He made a lot of sense.

When Andrew said he wouldn't come with, Elias looked at him with a scowl and then threw a hand on his shoulder, rough, knocking him around a bit. Andrew was bigger than Elias, but he didn't act like it.

"Andrew, man you can't bitch out on this," Elias began, offering his cigarette to his friend while berating him. "You seen the shit that's going on out there? We gotta go in deep, all five of us, for safety, you know?" He insisted, pointing at each boy in the room, lastly at Andrew. "We need you, bro. Look around my man, we're running out of shit to eat and you know Safeway gonna be the first place motherfuckers are gonna hit. We gotta get it while the getting's good - you wanna just sit here and go hungry?" Elias finished, before rising to his feet, looking out the window. "We just gonna go through self-checkout, that's it," he finished, before looking to Dom. "Where'd we put the gear after last time?" he asked, talking about the sets of spare clothes they'd put aside for when they didn't want to be recognized. The 'ski masks and shit' Matt had mentioned.​
 
Last edited:
Max is laying on her side facing the window when she wakes up, and quickly switches over to lay on her back, one of her arms covering her eyes from the cruel, blinding sun. She knew the motel was cheap, but figured they'd at least have their curtains on lock. Maybe a bit of blackout action. And maybe not car break-ins seemingly directly outside their door. She knew that the meat curtain that was her arm couldn't stay cast over her eyes forever, primarily because of the throbbing pain in her head and the increasingly urgent need to vomit. Still, one of the last things she wants while trawling through the beginnings of her hangover was to be shot in the face with a beam of light the curtain hadn't fully caught. This was already a established formula for Max - hangover/major fucked upness + bright light = express ticket to vomit city.

While this formula that could very well win her a peace prize (there could be some powerful magic in that there equation) was racing through her mind, she consciously tries to keep as much over her eyes covered with her arm. "You're telling me," Max begins, "I feel like I got ran over by a train." She wants to add more to the quip, but worries that if she talks more extensively, words might not be the only things flowing out of her mouth.
 
Alexandria, Virginia



Janus W. Bartosh​

logos logos

The fires are getting worse. Alexandria is burning to the ground. Bartosh Woodcraft is probably lost, and now the family home is in the path of the rapidly spreading blaze. The inferno is spreading throughout the black, slowly but surely... it's time to leave.

Mary-Ann is distraught. Her last phone call with her brother ended with him screaming and never really hanging up. That had happened on Friday, but she'd put her armor on for the sake of her children. She had begun packing things in the family vehicle, and has been pressuring her husband to get out Alexandria as soon as possible. She's been keeping up with the news and radio, too. "Charles County rescue stations - there's one in Hughesville. We can get picked up by the Maryland National Guard, there..." Mary-Ann says, hugging both of her children close.

"Mom. What about our house?" Lucas asks, looking at the neighbors' place burning down just across the street.

"It's okay, honey. We'll move into a bigger house." Emily just cries into her mother's shoulder. "Why won't they put out the fire...?"
"They're... busy, honey. Jan. We have to leave., now,"
Mary-Ann insists.

electric! electric!.png



Janus W. Bartosh

batosh.png

Janus stood, watching the house burn down. The loss of the building was a sure shame - he had just helped build a deck for the summer last month in exchange for some smoked sausages and a rack of beers.

"Close the curtains. Lock the doors," Janus instructed Mary-Ann as he proceeded to do the same. In his mind, he ran through a checklist of items that he would take. Power tools, hand tools, first aid kit. His mind dragged on through the endless possibilities. He decided that he would have Mary-Ann call Mr. Silva, her father. Janus would call his own father. I just need a grasp on the situation, he thought to himself. There was everything the Bartosh's would need in their house in Alexandria. The direction of Janus' actions could take any direction, if necessary. They had plenty of hand and power tools, building supplies from his at-home workshop, first aid kits, propane tanks, camping equipment, and even bicycles. He kept the television on - ensuring that any news about the situation was shared in the house. Throughout the house, he ran the faucets on the bathtubs to start pooling water.

"Grab buckets, pans, jars - anything. Start filling them with water in the sinks and in the tubs," Janus told Mary-Ann. He was not paying much thought to the kids, instead letting Mary-Ann handle that situation. He walked into their bedroom and opened the safe - 0-2-2-1, the address for Bartosh Woodcraft. Inside were their passports, birth certificates, social security cards, an envelope with $1,000 in cash, a checkbook, various legal documents, a couple expensive watches, spare keys for the houses and vehicles, and some David Yurman bracelets and Chopard rings.
There was a couple different decisions that Janus was thinking of.

  1. Leave the city and head west. Head to Culpeper first to check on his parents, then head toward the Great Plains. Preferably somewhere in Wyoming, Kansas, or Montana. Maybe even as far north as the Dakotas.
  2. Gather Mary-Ann's parents and head to Culpeper, reinforcing the town and hunkering down with the community.
  3. Gather Mary-Ann's parents and the employees from Bartosh Woodcraft and head to Culpeper and proceed as the second plan.
  4. Check in with Mary-Ann's parents, head to the Charles County Rescue Station, and see what to do next.

He would have to talk it over with Mary-Ann, but this is what he was thinking at this point.


1722911212114.png
 
Last edited:
Baltimore, Maryland

Jaden Darling​

Sagey Sagey

Downtown Baltimore is incredibly thick with the infected. There might be a hundred just out on the street alone. Now that most of the dead bodies have been picked clean or gotten up, they are wandering aimlessly, bumping into doors, climbing through shattered windows. Sometimes, people or animals can be heard screaming as their hiding places are finally uncovered, and the dead descend upon them. The streets are jammed with cars, many of them containing the reanimated forms of their passengers.

1722822129810.png


Most of the people down here that are still alive are hiding in buildings, or up on rooftops. Jaden might have noticed more than one person simply leap from some of the multi-storey buildings, just to end it all - refusing to live in this hellish world. One of them was a middle-aged woman who survived the fall, just barely - but she was so winded that she couldn't even scream when they started to crouch around her and eat her alive. Soon, what was left of her came back to life, and she was joining them in their quest for flesh, albeit at a crawl.

The water bowl can always be refilled for now, but the dog food bag in Jaden's apartment only has enough for one more chow time. His apartment is on the top floor, above some shop spaces that were for sale.​
Despite the medications and Tam Tam by his side, the screams outside did nothing to help settle his anxiety. Jade had noticed a few days prior that something was off while he and Tam were on their way home. There was more noise than normal, forcing him to pull his headset over his ears and drown it out with music. Much like the chilly wind slapping against his face and clothes, Tam had kept herself pressed against his legs so they were intertwined the entire way back to the apartment. Barely noticing the person who fell trying to attack him, he quickly opened the door to the upstairs with a quick glance at the empty shops before stepping into the hall.

Getting up those flights of stairs to the third floor was not as easy as he had hoped. Every turn or blink saw someone in front of him, standing there growling, drooling or screaming at him as he ran past. Jade followed quickly behind Tam, keeping weary eyes on the black lab as he was led past what he assumed were mostly hallucinations. Once or twice he swore they were real as they bent over to attack and attempted to chase him, but he never stopped until he was in the apartment.

Living alone with schizophrenia, one of his most paranoid moments saw that he had put on extra locks on his door and he made sure all seven of them were secure before he stepped away from it. Tam kept close to her owner, tail barely wagging behind her as she crawled into Jaden's lap when he slid to the floor against a nearby wall. She nosed and pawed at his hands, slowly helping him to bring them from his already covered ears until he was petting her soft fur.

Over the next couple days, Jaden watched quietly through the curtains as people fell to their deaths, heard the gunshots in the distance. One evening as he brought Tam Tam to the rooftop to do her bidding, he watched a woman he had seen on and off in passing walk off the roof of her building. Jade stood by the edge of his own, watching her hit the ground and fail in dying.

Kneeling down so he wasn't so noticeable, Jaden watched with a grotesque curiosity as the others tore her apart. Her lack of screams and little movement making it hard for him to tell how real the scene before him was. At some point, Tam had come up to him, quietly snuffing her nose at him for his attention and he held her close, petting at her to keep him grounded. Still engrossed in the awful scene he watched as only moments later they walked away and another moment later, she was crawling in the opposite direction with the same grotesque growls and look of death on her visage.

When he was finally brought back from watching, he and Tam quietly made their way back into his apartment. Jaden pulled the hair tie out, setting it on the counter as he picked up the water dish. Thankfully he still had water and it seemed to be the typical city water; no weird smell or look to it. However, once he moved to fill her dish with food, he realized he only had enough left for the night.

"Damn." Jade whispered, emptying the last of the dog food into the bowl and throwing it out. He let her eat as he stepped back, fingers combing anxiously through his mixed dyed hair at the very thought of having to step out so soon. Remembering he had kept telling himself to pick up dog food, he silently cursed not having done so.

Jade sighed heavily, muttering to himself about how he can go about this adventure he needed to go on, how he'd do it and how close the store was. What else would he need to get? 'No no, don't bother looking now'. Jade shook his head, ridding himself of the thought as he let himself fall onto the couch and sink into it. Tomorrow, he'll sleep tonight and tomorrow he'll make a plan.
 
Last edited:
Bima Mataram
Either North or East, Bima thought reading the map as he sat in his room at the Holiday Inn, trying to ignore the unsettling noises that filled the hotel, distant thuds, muffled voices, and the occasional eerie groan. The dim light from the hallway cast long, spooky shadows on the walls, a stark contrast to the calm he had felt during his earlier dawn prayer.

The gunshots he’d heard earlier only made him more anxious about the chaos outside. He’d seen someone go down, their fall marked by a crack of gunfire, which made him realize the situation was much worse than just a civil protest. Whatever was happening out there seemed to be more like a full-blown epidemic. But for now, he had to focus on more immediate concerns.

He glanced at the suitcase packed with snacks and candy bars he’d bought for his family back home. Although the treats were still neatly packed, he knew he couldn’t take everything with him. His excitement over the souvenirs, t-shirts, keychains, and magnets for his friends and family and a few tools for himself had faded. They seemed like extra weight he couldn’t afford right now. With a heavy sigh, he decided to leave the souvenirs behind and focus on the snacks and candy bars that would be more practical for his survival.

What he could keep was the Army surplus ALICE frame system. Even though he didn’t have the usual rucksack, he figured he could improvise using bed linens to make a makeshift carrying system.

Later that evening, Bima had used a quiet moment to finalize his plan for the next morning. The peace of his prayer had been a brief break from the chaos enveloping the hotel. Despite the unrest, he was set on moving forward. His plan was straightforward: gather essential supplies and find a weapon to help him stay safe in these uncertain times.

He had crafted a makeshift sack from hotel linens, tying it with knots he remembered from his diver training. This sack would be crucial for carrying the supplies he intended to collect. His main task for the morning was to find a fire axe, ideally in the basement’s utility room or the emergency stairs. The axe would help him pry open vending machines without breaking the glass, cutting down on noise and avoiding unwanted attention.

Bima planned to head out shortly after dawn, making the most of the early morning when things would be quieter. He aimed to move quietly and carefully, following his plan step-by-step. He also had a backup plan just in case things went sideways, run like hell.

As the night dragged on, the noises outside were a constant reminder of the chaos just beyond his room. Bima’s determination stayed strong. He double-checked that the door was securely braced with the bedframe, joking to himself that he’d definitely lose his deposit. Then he drifted off to sleep beside his supplies, hidden away in the corner, ready to tackle the day ahead.
 
Last edited:
Television

1722970980992.png

'Yes, we can... confirm that the President of the, uh - ahem, the President of United States passed away earlier this morning. As tragic as this is, this will not hamper ongoing rescue operations, or our resolve as a nation. These events, however tragic, have always been planned for, and there will always be a continuity of government. Now, I know for a fact that President Cheney is going to declare martial law, tonight. Please, do not panic. Containment procedures are underway, as are evacuations. This declaration should grant our armed forces sweeping powers to deal with the ongoing violence and looting.'

9332489697bf17c34868f0f9e3cc9480.gif

"In other news,"
a reporter began, "The Special Republican Guard, along with the elements of Fedayeen Saddam, have launched a counteroffensive that has seen large swaths of south Baghdad recaptured by Iraqi forces. This comes after widespread reports of U.S. military personnel refusing to obey-"

tv-static-rainbow-no-signal-6mhyvkjmqa3c4leq.gif



Elias K.

"Shit, man... Okay," Andrew finally agrees. "If you guys are really that fuckin' hungry."

"Man, shut up, your ass is just on Adderall all the goddamn time,"
Matt snorts. "Skinny ass."

"Right," Dominic says, checking his wheelgun's cylinder before swinging it shut. "We fuckin' doin' this? Drew, check to see if the coast is clear."

Andrew went over and peaked out of the bong resin-stained curtains. "I see two of them out there... one is... shit, one's right on our lawn, one's over on the sidewalk," he says, closing the curtain. "There's some freaky chick on the lawn, and some skinny kid over on the sidewalk without an arm... I don't know him, though."

Dominic taps a finger on the side of his heater. "Yo, alright. We goin', or...?"

1722999398891.png


Matt hesitates, now. "Why not just go upstairs, climb up on the roof, and go next door? I don't think the guy that lives there is fuckin' there," he says.

"I'unno. You might get seen anyway," Dom says.

"What about shooting the gun? Won't it attract attention?" asks Andrew.

Dom shrugs. "Plenty of guns going off, today. We just gotta get lost before they show up. Well, Ray, Ely, you guys ready?"



Max D.

"I need a smoke," mutters Bubb after a half-retch, half-cough. He opens the door, leaning into it at first, before taking a step back and pulling it open. Immediately, a woman lurches out from the entryway, wrapping her arms around Bubb as he screams and falls to the ground. The woman straddles Bubb as he lets out a blood-curdling scream as she... makes out with him? But then she finally bulls back, chewing on a mouthful of Bubb's face as he screams and writhes, trying to punch her off of him - but he's already missing his lips and chin.

"FUCK! FUUUUUCK! Grrkffrl-!!"

He grasps her by the throat, and forces her off of him. Now the one on top, he pummels the shit out of the dumb bitch who bit him in the face - left, right, left right... until her face was a pulp. Not that that stopped her. He ends up with a plethora of scratches on his arms, and just seems to tire out, while the lady never relents, even after such a severe beating that would have concussed anyone that wasn't superhuman.

"You fucking cu-..." Bubb sobs. Without lips or a chin, his lower face and jaw almost has a skeletal countenance. He slumps off of the woman, who slowly begins to sit up. Outside, a snarl is heard from down the hallway.



Janus B.

The wife questions the utility of water buckets. "I have to put them in the Honda, they'll slosh everywhere. Here..." Instead, she fills up as many thermoses and sealable bottles as she can. As she and the kids do their best to pack everything up and get everything prepared, Mary-Ann talks to Janus. "My folks are probably done for... I... we can't risk ourselves or our kids, going that deep into Arlington," she says, once the prospect of going to them is brought up. As for Janus's own folks down in Culpeper, she seems to consider it. Its more rural nature was appealing, considering the chaos that has gripped all the cities on the east coast.

"If we go to Charles County..." Mary-Ann begins, taking a deep breath... "We might end up stuck, if they're not able to get us across the Potomac, or Chesapeake Bay..."



Bima M.

Checking through a few floors of the Holiday Inn, there are a few other survivors also up and about. None of them give Bima any trouble. He manages to find a steak knife amongst the trashed remains of the Capitol Bistro breakfast buffet, along with a discarded purse with $200 cash and some miscellaneous gold and silver jewelry. He also manages to find a small first aid kit, complete with gauze pads, ointment, bandages, scissors, and tweezers. A screwdriver was also found in a utility closet, along with a small flashlight with batteries.

While passing by somewhere on the third floor, the door to one of the elevators slides open, and a frothing, twitching man stumbles forth. "Hrgh- gahhhgh- hahh..." He cocks his head to the side, and vomits a reddish, black sludge onto the ground, before falling onto his knees. Wheezing, he lashes out at Bima's pant leg.

 
Last edited:
A N D R E A

Andrea had expected his final year attachment to the hospital to be chaotic — gunshot wounds and car accident victims, shouting and being called down to work at 3 — it was all part of his daily routine as an A&E nurse. He prided himself on being able to handle the chaos well, wearing it like a badge of honor in conversations with anyone who'd listen.
At least, until about day ago.

Andrea sat on an office chair tucked into the nearest corner to the table, elbow propped up against its rough, flimsy armrest. It seemed to grate against his skin, almost, but he deemed the soreness worth it in exchange for keeping himself awake at the meeting. The nurse rested his chin on his hand, occasionally shifting in discomfort, or perhaps tenseness at the prospect of leaving the safety of the room. His other hand toyed with a dark blue lanyard that held his hospital staff pass, twirling it tightly around his finger as he listened to Clive speak. Strands of hair fell over his face, having strayed from the once neatly-done bun that he had not retied since he stepped foot into the room. Through half-lidded eyes, he observed the room. Everyone seemed to be in agreement with the cop — and knowing there was no point staying, he nodded as well. He wasn't going to die here, not in this tiny coffin of a room.

"We're going to need some kind of plan if we're to survive, though," he added; the first words he had spoken since the meeting was called.

Shifting the weight of his head to his other arm, he adjusted himself in his seat as he looked expectantly at the rest of the room for a sign of agreement, or for someone to start spitballing ideas. He felt his body heat up in sync with his quickening heart rate. Realistically, he knew that there was a chance of death. Images of himself lying in the hospital hallways he had walked through daily over the past few months flashed through his mind. There he was, in his mind, laying on the hospital's pale floors, in a condition much worse than he had ever seen in any of his patients. And there wasn't a chance in hell it would be quick and painless.
But realistically, he knew that there was a chance he could live. A greater chance, at least, than staying in this room and starving slowly.
 
The sound of gunshots woke Jade with a startle. He swore they were right beside him and yet as he rolled off the couch in a hurry, it was still just himself and Tam Tam. Once he could finally gather himself, he smirked, shaking his head as he covered his face with his hands. Fingers ran down over his eyes and cheeks, glancing down at the dog that was wagging her tail as she sat before him, waiting. "It's fine, it's fine." He answered her, bending down to give her a quick pet. "We need to get you more food."

There was no telling how long he slept for, or if he did at all. For all he could feel, he lay there for a short while more than anything. With a slight slap to his own face, he got back to his feet and moved to the kitchen. One by one he'd open the drawers, grabbing out anything sharp and placing it on the counter. Moving by the sink he briefly remembered he needed to do dishes, but the thought was quickly gone as he moved on to more drawers. Within minutes every sharp knife and heavy skillet was out on the counter, but his thoughts were a mess. Just use them on yourself. The words repeating in his mind before he shook his head. "No, no. They aren't for me."

Tam Tam brushed up against his leg and he unconsciously leaned down to pet her, "Good girl." He spoke quietly, still half listening to the sounds of growls and gunshots and screams he could hear, unsure if they were real or just him, or both. Whatever riot or sickness was happening, he knew this could go terribly wrong for him, or be an amazing way to live. Jade reached for several of the larger knives; a bread knife that he slipped into his belt buckle, a steak knife he slipped up the sleeve of his shirt and then he grabbed a skillet. It was cheap, it'd likely not do much for him, but it wasn't like he had a lot to help keep himself safe.

Satisfied enough, he turned to Tam Tam with a smirk, "Good enough?" He watched her paw at his leg before nodding in agreement. "It'll do for now. I hope. Ready to go back out? Probably be nice to not go to the bathroom on the rooftop again, yeah?" Smiling down at Tam, he finally started for the door. Jade paused, looking around quickly before he found his backpack and then returned for the door once again. One by one he undid the locks as quietly as he could, listening with his ear almost fully pressed to the door for any sounds that might be in the hallway. This time he wasn't running through, or maybe he should? Just bolt, go on. Jade shook his head, bolting didn't feel like the right response and as he unlocked the final lock, he slowly peeked out into the hallway. Not that he had many direct neighbors, but he was never sure if something would jump out at him even when the world wasn't falling apart. Maybe I should've put the news on first.

Waving off the idea, Jade and Tam Tam stepped out into the hall and made their way down the stairs. Slowly he listened for anything that might be directly outside the door as he turned the knob. The nearest store with dog food was several streets away and Jade held the bread knife in his hands as he kept Tam Tam behind him despite her best efforts to get in front of him.
 

Elias Kelliman
03a8dfaf693f44a69cf65505ae16705a (1).jpeg


Elias grinned as Drew agreed to come on the run. Really it wasn't his, Matt's and Dom's safety he was worried about, more Andrew's, if he were to stay here alone. He had a bad feeling that if they were to return, they wouldn't be finding him here again in one piece. Sooner or later the freaks outside would realize what was inside, and he didn't want to leave Andrew here to wait around for it.

As Andrew reported two of the crazies standing around right outside of the front door, Elias shook his head at the idea of forcing their way out there. Matt had a point with going up to the roof and breaking in next door -- they hadn't heard anything from their neighbors and their car wasn't parked out front where they normally left it. Seemed like a safe bet to get over there and see what they could gather.

When it came to getting out of the clubhouse, though, Elias preferred a path of least resistance. And so he walked toward the back door, and went to open it up to check outside - there weren't any windows on this side of the house to check it. But as his hand reached toward the knob, he hesitated, and turned back to Dom.

"Let's take a peek out the back, see if it's clear. Then we can either get out there, or like Matt said get on the roof and into the place next-door. But uh, you should probably check it with your gun, just in case one of those things is waiting right outside," Elias suggested, bending over and pulling his pant leg up and KA-BAR knife out of it's sheath in his boot, spinning the blade by it's handle in his hand with thinly-veiled nervousness. "I'll back you up."

 
Last edited:
"Anjing!"

Bima shouted as he was knocked onto his back. The groaning man tried to reach him again, but Bima retaliated by kicking back hard with his work boot-clad foot and heard a crack. Heart pounding, he stood up and saw the man he'd surely killed in a panic. As he looked at the man with a clearly broken neck, he noticed some odd things, the glassy eyes, the stiff movements. He couldn't believe it, a pocong? No, not wrapped. Suster Ngesot? No, not a women. Besides, this is America. Panic rising, he bolted for the stairs and rushed back to his room, slamming the door shut and barricading it with the bedframe again. He tried to calm himself, remembering the riots, epidemic. All right, the man he just... kicked was just ill. That's all. No monsters here.

He turned on the TV, desperate for some info. The news was a nightmare, president dead, more soldiers coming. He remembers yesterday as people going near the Smithsonian districts were getting picked off by snipers flashed in his mind.

"East. Gotta go east."

No way he was safe here. He looked down and saw his pants and boots covered in bloody gunk, then remembering that viscera are a Biohazard, and he sure as heck don't want whatever disease the epidemic is bringing to get him too. He sprinted to the bathroom, washed all the gunk off in the shower, and used the small towel as a makeshift glove to check his leg, praying he wasn't infected. To his relief, his pants weren't even ripped, and there were no marks, let alone wounds on his leg. sturdy, industrial-grade fabric for the win.

After taking some time to calm down, he saw it was still 6:30. Taking stock of what he had, he decided to go out again. He knew staying inside wasn’t entirely safe, but it was still safer than getting sniped outside. He changed his gear, now wearing an overall and jacket combo, all Carhartt of course, he had spares too, and a pair of Miller HD Welding gloves. Ripping apart the blanket he had used into strips using the steak knife, with a lot of effort, he used them to tie towels over both legs and his left hand and before tying them with the blanket strips.

The last thing he did before setting out was grab the floor lamp. It was sturdy enough, but he knew from the feel of the materials it wouldn't last long if used as a club. However, it was solid enough to use as a blunt pole to keep some distance between him and those sick people. He still couldn't believe it, but he wasn't drunk. He doesn't drink. It was real, and he had to deal with it.

He returned to where the sick man had been, only to see it lying motionless, its neck clearly snapped. The sight brought a fleeting sense of relief, but it quickly turned into a sinking feeling.

"Oh God. Gita..."

He whispered to himself, remembering that his sister was somewhere in D.C. Worry gnawed at him as he realized he had to find her amidst the chaos.
 
Last edited:
Jebidiah Boyd
Looking towards Melissa’s seemingly reanimating corpse Jeb speaks up, “With all those things out there, I cannot recommend leaving. At least right now with all those things right out there. But I do not think we can stay here much longer, I mean the building just across from us just burned down and we didn’t see one fire crew.” Then pointing towards Melissa “And look at her, she should be beyond dead and yet she’s making sounds and moving. Whatever is causing this can spread, and it is. At this rate I doubt any city will be secure, much less D.C. But,” turning towards Brayton, “We can’t being going off halfcocked with no clear destination. What we need to do is figure out the where the nearest easily accessible military base is, and once the group of things out front clear out, we all make a go for it."
 

Michael J. Martin / Andrea D'Agostini​

americanCaeser americanCaeser / JudasMichael JudasMichael

It was a routine check-up that turned into a siege by the dead. The hospital admitted plenty of people for non VA-related reasons, the day everything went sideways. Mike's appointment was canceled, but before he could leave and a huge mob of civilians fleeing from the infected broke into the hospital and nearly trampled him to death. He was saved by a Veterans Affairs policeman, Officer Cliff Owens, who took him and a few of his fellow hospital staffers to shelter in the maintenance room.

View attachment 1177359

It's safe to assume that the waiting area turned into a blood bath. People pounded at the door, but they weren't let in by the cop. Mike was a veteran - they couldn't exactly leave him for dead and feel good about themselves, but those other 'exceptional circumstances' patients had to bite the bullet if anyone was to survive. Half of them were covered in wounds, and bleeding all over, even if they weren't dead yet.

Nurse Andrea had managed to keep himself alive, too, along with a Dr. Harold Radley, and Patricia Trudison, a custodian. Working with Officer Owens, they'd managed to secure the maintenance room and evacuate a single patient into it, while the others were torn apart. It was better than nothing. The maintenance room feels a bit cramped with five people in it... there's not much privacy, or food, but there's a sink and a hose in a closet.

View attachment 1177534

It's been over twenty-four hours since the group took shelter in here. Piss in the corner, shit in a cardboard box... The rationed Tic-Tacs, chewing gum, and Patty's lunch are gone. Everybody's hungry - desperately so. At least the heat has died down in the hospital - perhaps some of them have since wandered away, now that the big 'feast' was over?

Everyone is called out to a meeting by Clive, the cop. There are wheelie chairs for everyone. "Listen, people. Mike, Andrea, Harold, uh - Patty. It's been nice getting to know y'all, but we've gotta get the hell outta dodge. I'm gonna be honest, I don't know if I can protect everyone. I only got a mag and a half," he says, holding up his Beretta M9. "...But I know that we can't stay in here and just starve to death, because yeah - there ain't no food." The doctor and custodian nod along... they're reluctant to step outside the safety of this room, so they hadn't brought it up. Still, they can't deny Clive's words.​
A N D R E A

Andrea had expected his final year attachment to the hospital to be chaotic — gunshot wounds and car accident victims, shouting and being called down to work at 3 — it was all part of his daily routine as an A&E nurse. He prided himself on being able to handle the chaos well, wearing it like a badge of honor in conversations with anyone who'd listen.
At least, until about day ago.

Andrea sat on an office chair tucked into the nearest corner to the table, elbow propped up against its rough, flimsy armrest. It seemed to grate against his skin, almost, but he deemed the soreness worth it in exchange for keeping himself awake at the meeting. The nurse rested his chin on his hand, occasionally shifting in discomfort, or perhaps tenseness at the prospect of leaving the safety of the room. His other hand toyed with a dark blue lanyard that held his hospital staff pass, twirling it tightly around his finger as he listened to Clive speak. Strands of hair fell over his face, having strayed from the once neatly-done bun that he had not retied since he stepped foot into the room. Through half-lidded eyes, he observed the room. Everyone seemed to be in agreement with the cop — and knowing there was no point staying, he nodded as well. He wasn't going to die here, not in this tiny coffin of a room.

"We're going to need some kind of plan if we're to survive, though," he added; the first words he had spoken since the meeting was called.

Shifting the weight of his head to his other arm, he adjusted himself in his seat as he looked expectantly at the rest of the room for a sign of agreement, or for someone to start spitballing ideas. He felt his body heat up in sync with his quickening heart rate. Realistically, he knew that there was a chance of death. Images of himself lying in the hospital hallways he had walked through daily over the past few months flashed through his mind. There he was, in his mind, laying on the hospital's pale floors, in a condition much worse than he had ever seen in any of his patients. And there wasn't a chance in hell it would be quick and painless.
But realistically, he knew that there was a chance he could live. A greater chance, at least, than staying in this room and starving slowly.


Michael James 'MJ' Martin
"Not a bad assumption, kid."

The old mans dry remark came with a deep, rough voice as Michael J Martin, or MJ, or Mike (He didn't really seem to care what anyone called him) spoke up. Both of his elbows rested on the table as he leaned forward, a pair of fierce grey eyes peering at them from under his Korean Veteran Cap. He rested his rough hands on the table before continuing.

"We can start by laying out what we know. I know there were talks of riots on the radio in other cities 'fore I came in, and I'm willing to bet these ain't coincidences. We know, after waiting nearly 24 hours, that we haven't heard a lick of common sense or English coming from outside meaning the Police can't help us." Or won't, but he refrained from speaking it aloud. "Right now we assume the worse, that the authorities ain't coming for us anytime soon, so we need to remove ourselves from the situation ASAP. That mean's leaving the building, like Mr Owen's here pointed out."

Grunting, Martin rose to his feet and walked over to one of the drawer shelves and began digging through them before returning with some markers. He tossed them on the table, for each of them.

"You all know this place better than me, so draw up a floor plan. I think we can safely assume going out the front door is a death trap, so figure out where we are and where the nearest emergency exits are. Once we figure that out, we can regroup outside. My trucks got a full tank, so unless your gonna split and fuck off, I think it'd be best to stick together once we're on the road and get a sitrep on the wider world from there. Figure out if this is just a local thing or what. And Mr Owens..."

He looked at the security guard with a hard stare. Honestly though, he seemed to give everyone a hard stare all the time.

"That force multiplier of yours is the best we got, but its loud and those Gooks can take a bullet or several before going down."

Martin remembered the sight of one of the other hospital security guards emptying a clip into a mans stomach as he tore apart his forearms. The fact the Gook also had his throat torn out didn't seem to bother them in the slightest even as flesh tumbled out from its throat and onto its shirt. MJ forced himself to return to the present.

"When we go out there, use that thing as a last resort. You fire that pop gun too soon then all you're doing is ringing the dinner bell and fucking us over." He walked back over to the various drawers. "I'm gonna see if I can't find us some tape to bound up ourselves. Hell of a lot harder to bite through than just skin."

He didn't really wait for anyone to pitch up. Martin didn't expect anyone too, beside maybe propose some hollow objection to his assumptions, and too be fair they were assumptions. Maybe this was a localized thing. Maybe a fuck ton of SWAT were about to sweep and clear the hospital. Maybe they were best of staying in place. Then again, maybe none of that was true, in which case staying in this maintenance closet was beyond stupid. This situation was FUBAR, and the only real choice to be made was to withdraw as swiftly and silently as possible.
 
Janus B.

The wife questions the utility of water buckets. "I have to put them in the Honda, they'll slosh everywhere. Here..." Instead, she fills up as many thermoses and sealable bottles as she can. As she and the kids do their best to pack everything up and get everything prepared, Mary-Ann talks to Janus. "My folks are probably done for... I... we can't risk ourselves or our kids, going that deep into Arlington," she says, once the prospect of going to them is brought up. As for Janus's own folks down in Culpeper, she seems to consider it. Its more rural nature was appealing, considering the chaos that has gripped all the cities on the east coast.

"If we go to Charles County..." Mary-Ann begins, taking a deep breath... "We might end up stuck, if they're not able to get us across the Potomac, or Chesapeake Bay..."

Janus W. Bartosh​

batosh.png
"Mary, I insist we at least give your father a call. Regardless, we're stronger in numbers. Your father has survived much worse through his time in the Army than some homebrewed insurrection," Janus said, picking up his phone and dialing Bruno Silva. Janus' heart began to swell as he listened to the ringing, finally - "Hi, this is Bruno Silva, please leave a message, thanks."

"Bruno, it's Jan. I'm taking Mary and the kids to my parents' house. You know where to go. Please call me back if you get the chance," Janus said after the tone. He then dialed another number to his coworker, Colten Jacobi, his senior carpenter at Bartosh Woodcraft. Three rings. "This number is unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message after the tone." Fuck, Janus thought to himself, why won't anyone pick up the phone?

"Colten, brother, please call me back if you get the chance. I hope you're safe. Mary and I are taking the kids out of town. If you can call me back, I'll let you know where we are. Don't go to the Maryland National Guard. Get out of the city," Janus said, the urgency of his message straining his voice. "Shit."

Janus fumbles with the buttons on his phone to find another contact - Lonzo Price - the apprentice who moved into D.C. and recently started working as an apprentice at the shop. "Pick up kid," Janus said to himself.

"Hey... Mister Bartosh, sir...?" Lonzo said, his voice trembling, breathing quickly as if in a panic. He seems a mixture of relieved and confused upon receiving the call.

"Good morning, kiddo. I need you to do me a favor. Do the best you can to scrum everything out of your apartment. Meet me at Burke Lake Dam. Don't take the major highways or roads. Take Russell Road until you cross IH-495 and hit Franconia Road. Take the state routes until you get to the dam. I need you to meet me there. Got it?" Janus said as calmly and steadily as possible. His mind was racing on the thought of his and Mary's parents. His parents still stood a good chance, but he knew leaving the city with more help than less would be a net benefit.
"Alright, I can try. No promises... I can try to dodge 'em, but I'll head out when I'm ready. Give me another call when you're goin' out, alright?" Lonzo said.

"We're going to be leaving real soon. I'll call you. Take care, I hope to see you soon, bud," Janus says, hanging up. He finally tries to make one last call - a ring to his father, Walter, in Culpeper. After a couple moments of slice, a tone beeps. "Hey, dad. I hope you and mom are staying safe. Call me back. I'm going to try to bring a friend down with Mary and the kids. I don't know about the Silvas. See you soon, dad," Janus said with dread pouring through his words. Time to get on the road, Janus thought.​

The Bartoshes gathered all their belongings - anything that Janus saw as essential. Luckily, he and the Missus often took the kids hiking in Shenandoah National Park. Janus walked into the shed in the backyard and opened a small safe. Inside was a Colt Delta Elite, his bear gun, and a box of 10mm Auto (35 rounds). There were also various camping paraphernalia in the shed - waterproof bags, freeze-dried meals, tents, hiking backpacks and rucksacks, and various miscellaneous items for a more comfortable wilderness experience. He tucked the Colt into his waistband and got their things together.

While Mary-Ann corralled the kids and prepared them for the trip, Janus loaded his 2003 Ford F-150 SuperCrew. With an extra fuel can, he siphoned some gas out of the family Honda CRV and put it in the truck's bed. Janus checked the pressure on each tire, the oil levels, and the vehicle's overall condition. He had only put about 9,000 miles on the truck, as he had just bought it last November. He checked his roadside assistance kit and ensured there was a spare tire and a jack.

Also in the bed were three Pelican crates. Janus loaded each Pelican crate with the family's belongings, including canned foods, pasta, rice, beans, water canisters, and anything else Mary-Ann instructed the kids to bring to him.

Before stepping off, Janus instructed Mary-Ann to call Lonzo again. He took a second to review everything and ensure everything in the truck was secured. Mary-Ann stood in the entryway to their house, double-checking the children's backpacks, brushing their hair, and kissing each one on the forehead.

"We're going to be okay; Daddy's got everything under control," Mary shakingly whispered to the kids, her voice quivering and hands aching with anxiety. Lucas stood uncomfortably, fidgeting in his mother's embrace. He could feel the gravity of the situation but did not know how to feel—he just obeyed his mother's orders like a proper young soldier.

Janus trudged through the house one last time to check for anything important he could pack. Instead, he was attacked on all sides by a torrent of memories. His life with his family flashed before his eyes - Lucas' first day of kindergarten. Emily wasn't even old enough to be eligible for kindergarten yet. Framed on the wall were photos from his wedding with Mary-Ann many years ago. He gripped the wooden frame with all his strength and stared at the smiles dominating his and Mary-Ann's faces as they said their vows, holding each other's hands in marriage matrimony. He promised her nine quick years ago to always protect and give her everything she wanted. Now she stood in their front yard, shaking and unsure if they would leave tomorrow. Janus grabbed some pictures from throughout the house and stuffed them into the back pocket of his jeans. He would keep his promise to his wife.

Janus walked outside to see Mary-Ann putting Emily into her car seat in the rear. The fire blazed behind her. As Janus stood on their little brick stairsteps for a moment, the world fell silent. There were no sirens, gunfire, or screaming—just the slow crackle of the embers behind Mary-Ann and the murmur of distant birdsongs as the Sunday sun crested the horizon and kissed their once-peaceful neighborhood. Even the sun's light was pale and sickly.


1722911212114.png
 

1723167094956.png

Jaden took a deep breath, working to calm his nerves as he further stepped past the door. Having kept the leash off Tam Tam, she thankfully stayed by his side, following him out onto the street. They keep to the wall of the building until they hit the next street. More open was nice, except for the fact that there were people everywhere. He could hear Tam's whining and quietly shushed her, petting along her neck and ears to help soothe her.

The growling and grunts were too weird and made everything feel that much more unreal. With a sigh, he finally, fully rounded the corner and started down the street. Slowly at first, until he couldn't much longer. With Tam beside him, he couldn't bother climbing the fence, and now maybe he should've let her stay at the apartment.

"Alright girl, we gotta make a run for it." With the bread knife in one hand, he took out the steak knife and whistled, deciding to bolt through the crowd into the opening of the field, weaving between the sickened people trying attack as he ran by.


One of the quicker-moving, snarling creatures - a black kid in a ballcap, manages to rake his fingernails across Jaden's wrist as he brushes past him, drawing blood. An old guy splattered with blood tries to grab Lulu, but she barks and leaps away.

Not entirely sure she should be using the weapons on anyone, Jade kept them up as if he was ready to fight any moment. The two of them weaved in and out of the horde around them, keeping close to one another. It would be a kid that he wasn't looking for or at that managed to get him. A yelp escaping and he almost instantly felt the blood dripping down his wrist.

Hearing Tam bark and run past him, he raised his bread knife at the old man who tried grabbing his dog and the two continued bolting for the open field. He glanced down once to look at his wrist, shoving the other knife into his pocket and using his hand to cover up the wound until he could get to the store.


Jaden manages to get away from the horde, altough they follow him at a distance. Some of the faster ones get sidetracked by a car that tears down the street, taking the heat of off of Jaden as he is able to cross the field and reach the entrance to Aldi's.

Sweat rolled down his cheeks, nearly slamming himself against a wall near the door to the Aldi's. Thankful it was so much closer than he had realized and even more so for that car that managed to help him escape unwittingly. He watched Tam Tam lay on the ground beside him, panting as much as he was and knowing full well she needed water just as much. He always had good endurance, but running for your literal life was a whole new cardio workout he didn't expect to experience.

He let them have their few minutes to catch their breath, crouching down and resting his forehead in his palms, the butt of the bread knife pressing into his skin. Jade could hear his blood rushing, overpowering the sound of the growls from the sick who had been wandering about. Every so often he was sure he heard gunshots and the sound of that car from earlier felt like it was nearby, but he was never truly sure if he was hearing things right or not. The growls, for sure. He knew he wasn't going to get off easy, at least he felt like he wasn't. When he started to be able to slow his breathing, Jade reached over to pet Tam Tam, letting her come closer and hugging her close. It was too close that something snatched her up and it was a moment he had a panic thought; what happens if I lose her?

The thought was terrifying, how would he be able to tell a real person from his hallucinations? Her whine and pawing at him brought him back, grounding him in reality again before his mind went to far in that thought. Jade smiled, giving her a kiss and another pet before he finally got back to his feet. "Let's get you some food, and a few other things while we're here. Might as well fill the backpack, yeah?" He spoke quietly, unsure if anyone was nearby to hear him. Slowly, he took careful steps toward the door to Aldi, looking in through the window to see whoever might be there. Not immediately catching anything, he held up the bread knife and slowly started in through the door, Tam Tam directly at his side and ready to pounce as she picked up on Jaden's own fear.
 
Bima forced himself to stamp down his panic. He couldn't help his sister if he was dead himself. With a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and noticed three rooms nearby with open doors. He decided to check them out, starting with the first one. Gripping the floor lamp tightly, he used it to push the door open, ready for anything.

The room was empty, no guests, just a mess of overturned furniture and scattered objects. He quickly folded all the linens, raided the minibar, and grabbed the sewing and toiletry sets. Moving swiftly, he repeated the process with the second and third rooms. Thankfully, there were nobody in either of them, and he managed to collect more supplies.

Feeling calmer, he headed back downstairs to check the supply closets. In one of them, he found a roll of duct tape and two rolls of packing tape. Not much, but it was something. Glancing at the time, he saw it was almost 8 AM. He needed to move fast. Returning to the vending machines that were still intact, he used the packing tape in an X pattern on the glass before carefully breaking it with the screwdriver, making as little noise as possible. He collected the snacks and drinks, knowing they could be crucial in the coming days.

Finally, he returned to his room, barricaded the door with the bedframe, drops his loot on the floor before spreading out his map. The plan was to head to Georgetown University School of Medicine area, where his sister was studying and living nearby. But as he traced the route with his finger, he sighed. The university was northwest of where he was, passing in the middle of the Smithsonian District. Sniper lane.

"Great. Just... great."

Determined, but with a heavy heart, Bima knew he had no choice. He needed to reach Gita and find some semblance of safety.
 
Last edited:




Jeb B.

"The military's gonna have everyone and their mother lookin' for them, but if you want to go somewhere, go to Hughesville. The military's evacuating people there," Tom says, mentioning the Charles County Rescue Station.

Brayton scoffs. "Hughesville... The navy's got a place right over in Indian Head, right at our doorstep."

Tom grits his teeth. "Well, if we were supposed to go there, they'd of fuckin' told us to, wouldn't they? You think Melissa's folks didn't try that before getting killed on the highway?"

Brayton holds up his hands. "Whatever, man. Least we could do is scope the place out. Maybe it's overrun, or there's signs up that'll tell us if we can get close, or some shit."



Andrea D.
/ Michael M.
JudasMichael JudasMichael / americanCaeser americanCaeser

"Right, man. Not like I got the bullets to spareCliff Owens scratches his bald head, before uncapping the market and doing his best to scribble down a map. He stops to wrack his brain, but Patricia speaks up. "There's a fire escape map around here... lemme see." It isn't long before she's found it and laid it out.

"Owe you one, Patricia. Right... this is what I've got," Cliff says after nodding his thanks to Patty and adding his proposed escape route. "We leave this room, go out into the hallway, pass through storage and through the lab, then leave outta the nearest emergency exist. Once we're out in the parking lot, I might be able to get to my cruiser, assuming there ain't too many of 'em."

1723154454036.png



Elias Kelliman

Lord Bradorian Lord Bradorian

Dominic nods, lifting his revolver and slowly opening up the backdoor, peeking out the back entrance. "Eh, looks clear to me." Just smashed beer bottles, soggy cardboard boxes and some garbage bins. "Where we headin', Safeway, yeah? Well, check the neighbors' to see if there's any shit we can use, then we'll get going."

Matthew takes it upon himself to do the climbing. He heads upstairs with Dom, who covers him with his gun as he quietly crawls over to the other window, managing to pry it open and slip inside. After a few minutes, he sticks out a thumbs-up through the window, and drags a grocery bag full of stuff back over to the clubhouse. There's soda, cookies, granola bars, fruit leather, cheese sticks, beef jerky, and a box of Cap'n Crunch cereal.

"Haha, oh hell yeah," Andrew laughs. The guys help themselves to these provisions, scarfing down some food to regain some of their strength before their journey. "Got something else, too," Matthew says, offering a short crowbar to Ray. "Thanks, man. We ready to head out?"



Bima Mataram
Nomad13 Nomad13

The zombie, although moving ever so slightly, does seem to be disabled by its broken neck, only writhing on the ground, now.

The drone of helicopter rotors is heard once again over by the Capitol. Not only that, but a loud engine is heard outside on the street. "It's the army," someone with access to a window can be heard yelling from within the hotel.

A few Humvees have pulled up outside, along with a 'deuce and a half'. There's a few cops, and quite a few people with high-visibility vests, mostly paramedics. Army soldiers in a hodgepodge of desert and woodland camouflage, as well as MOPP hazard gear begin to corral a large gaggle of civilians into the Holiday Inn. Looks like Bima would be getting a lot more neighbors.

"Hell's going on?" asks one of the original squatters in the Holiday Inn, an old man with a gray mustache.

"People they're turnin' away from the capital," says another, a black woman in a tank top. "Every time the choppers come down, another bunch of them turns up at the Mall."

1723179529874.png



Jaden Darling
Sagey Sagey

The Aldi seemed to have an earlier run-in with looters, as the register is busted open and many of the counters are smashed and ransacked for lottery tickets and cigarettes. There's quite a few snacks available, at least - gum, mints, chocolate bars... not that it would be any good for Tam Tam, especially the latter.

A pool of blood on the floor suggests there may have been more than looters in here, but there's no body in sight. There's toilet paper, laundry detergent, soap, and candles scattered across the floor, knocked from the shelves. Jars of tomato sauce are smashed everywhere, a bit of it mixing with the blood on the floor in a red slurry. Cereal boxes, cans of German soup, and other pantry essentials are still abundant, and the refrigerated sections are still running.

Some hefty bags of dog food rests in the corner. Around them, there's a few smaller bags of pet treats on shelves, along with tinned cat food.

1723228625566.png



Isabella Morgans
Chocolate_chip Chocolate_chip
(section written by logos logos )

“Fifteen months with parole. Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women. Dismissed,” the judge said, stamping Isabella’s fate with a rap of her sound block using a sturdy oak gavel. The next few hours were more of a blur than a memory. Shackled. Sitting. Shoved into a bus. The hum of a stationary engine. The slow roll of wheels along asphalt. The screech. The crash. The screams.

The transport was headed southbound along James Madison Highway. They had been on the road for a couple hours. There were thirty other inmates on the bus and four guards, not including the bus driver – who was just a bus driver. Isabella was sitting in the middle of the bus. Not too close to the front, and certainly not to the rear. They had just passed a church a couple minutes ago. It was hard to tell. The bus moved but the time seemed still.

As the road narrowed, the bus began to drive by a hill. Suddenly, a screeching car roared down a hill to the right. “Goddamn!” the bus driver screamed, ripping the steering wheel to the right, trying to travel in the path of the rogue car. The bus hit an embankment and turned on its side.

When the transport rolled over, Isabella was knocked out cold. When she woke up, her face was pressed against the glass and her seatmate was unconscious, bleeding from her forehead. There was groaning and screaming. Someone was leaning over her, some Latina with twin pigtails, wearing the signature prison jumpsuit. "C'mon, c'mon." She produced a key that she used to unlock the seatmate's cuffs, and delivered a slap to her face, but it elicited no response. Quickly, she leaned over and freed Isabella from her shackles. "C'mon, get your ass up! Get the fuck out, quick!" A few other women are attempting to get to the front of the bus, where the doors have been opened - but the awkward angle meant they had to climb on top of each other to get out.

1723234877239.png



J.W. Bartosh
logos logos

The Bartosh family leaves their home in Alexandria to the flames, driving off in the Ford F150. Mary-Ann sits in the back with the kids, covering their eyes from the scenes of random violence and carnage which quickly begin to unfold, although thankfully the sturdy truck and the high speed of the drive make for relative safety. Good progress is made toward Burke Lake Dam until some time after hitting Fairfax County Parkway when, Janus runs into serious congestion. Wrecked and abandoned cars piled up everywhere.

1723242616621.png

The blockade might be able to be driven through, but it risked damage to the truck and its occupants. It may also result in a great deal of noise, shunting vehicles out of the way, not to mention reversing and accelerating. To backtrack might be dangerous as well, since at least a few of the crazies still seem to be following the Ford from a distance. Abandoning the truck would result in the loss of nearly all the supplies, and it's unlikely that the family could fit in Lozo's LeSabre.

"Oh my God," Mary-Ann murmurs exasperatedly as she soothes her children. Already, lumbering and swaying, or else violently twitching figures can be seen in amongst the stagnant traffic. A few turn to notice the Ford, already.
 
Last edited:
Jeb attempts to mediate, “Look, whatever these things are, they seem to have a taste for our flesh and are definitely attracted by noise, so I don’t think it’s that big of a leap to suggest they have some instinct to follow their prey. Now since Hughesville is the place people are ‘supposed’ to evac to, there’s probably a great deal of people heading that way, and I don’t think they are alone.”

Pointing back towards the window, “Imagine swarms of those things coming into Hughesville from all direction, I’ll sum it up in two words: Feeding Frenzy.”

Then turning his head towards Tom, “Look, we can’t guarantee the Naval outpost will be safe, but at least it won’t have swarms of refugees leading those creatures straight into it. It’s also only accessible from only one direction, and since it’s on the water and the Navy’s running things we could be easily evacuated by boat. Worst case scenario, it’s overrun, we can easily turn around and try for Hughesville or head south to Virginia. Regardless, as long as we are careful about traveling, heading for the outpost is very low risk high reward proposition.
 

Jaden Darling
Sagey Sagey

The Aldi seemed to have an earlier run-in with looters, as the register is busted open and many of the counters are smashed and ransacked for lottery tickets and cigarettes. There's quite a few snacks available, at least - gum, mints, chocolate bars... not that it would be any good for Tam Tam, especially the latter.

A pool of blood on the floor suggests there may have been more than looters in here, but there's no body in sight. There's toilet paper, laundry detergent, soap, and candles scattered across the floor, knocked from the shelves. Jars of tomato sauce are smashed everywhere, a bit of it mixing with the blood on the floor in a red slurry. Cereal boxes, cans of German soup, and other pantry essentials are still abundant, and the refrigerated sections are still running.

Some hefty bags of dog food rests in the corner. Around them, there's a few smaller bags of pet treats on shelves, along with tinned cat food.
Jade moved slowly to start, listening for anything that might tell him someone was here. He kept his eyes open but he let Tam Tam give him a clue if something was real or not. The place was a mess as somewhat expected; items everywhere, money gone and a pool of blood. He was thankful he wasn't squeamish, not that the smell was helping any. After a few moments of slowly making their way further into the store, he heard and saw nothing out of place, so he stood straighter and started grabbing for whatever he could.

He grabbed a few things of gum first, hesitating but then decided to grab a couple things of mints too. Jade, with Tam following close behind, started down the aisles. He grabbed handful of candles, noting that he likely had matches or a lighter still at the apartment, two bars of soap and grabbed a thing of toilet paper. The two moved quickly into another aisle, half listening to his surroundings and half hoping he could get out of there soon enough and back to his apartment. "Mm..." Jade hummed, setting the toilet paper down so he could open his backpack. Shoving everything he already grabbed in there, he looked about this current aisle. Looking to Tam Tam who was on alert herself, he had to decide if bringing a bag of dog food back was the best option. He could probably just grab a ton of meat and cook it up for her, there was still power after all.

"Tam." Jade spoke, keeping his voice quiet in case anyone heard him. She glanced back at him but otherwise kept her attention on either side of the aisle. Scraping his wrist against the bag reminded him that he had been scratched. Standing, he grabbed some canned goods; tuna, chicken, chicken noodle soup, picked up the toilet paper and then whistled for her to follow him. He found the first aid section, grabbing a box of bandages and something to wrap his wrist in and then headed for the cold section.

The dog food bags were pretty heavy and with the crowd he'd have to go back through, the best decision was to just buy some meat, right? But it wouldn't last nearly as long. Dropping the toilet paper on the ground again, his hands locked behind his head as he paced in a circle. There was no telling how long this weird situation was going to go on for and he didn't want to have to risk going out too much. Things would get better. They should. Everything would go back to normal at some point. "Alright girl, I'll get the some dog food and meat, hopefully there's a small enough bag." Tam Tam's tail wagged slowly in response, looking up at him.

Picking up the toilet paper once more, they hurried to the pet section. He filled the bag with a few cans of food, a bag of her favorite treats and paused, "Oh I forgot to grab the meat..." Jade sighed, glancing back at the end of the aisle. "Forget it, I got canned meat, there's still some food left at home anyway. Come on, pack is filled, let's get home." He silently prayed to whoever might be listening he could get home with everything in tact, including the two of them. Side by side, the two of them headed for the door, taking out the bread knife from his pants, ready to make a run for it as best he could. If anything, he would drop the toilet paper at least.
 
"Right, man. Not like I got the bullets to spareCliff Owens scratches his bald head, before uncapping the market and doing his best to scribble down a map. He stops to wrack his brain, but Patricia speaks up. "There's a fire escape map around here... lemme see." It isn't long before she's found it and laid it out.

"Owe you one, Patricia. Right... this is what I've got," Cliff says after nodding his thanks to Patty and adding his proposed escape route. "We leave this room, go out into the hallway, pass through storage and through the lab, then leave outta the nearest emergency exist. Once we're out in the parking lot, I might be able to get to my cruiser, assuming there ain't too many of 'em."
Lorsh Lorsh americanCaeser americanCaeser
A N D R E A
Andrea stood up, finally leaving his spot in the corner of the room to join Patricia in looking at the map. He observed it for a second through tired eyes, tracing the path with his finger, trying to internalise it and picture it in his head. He paused when he got to the storage room, then looked up to face everyone else. He had no idea how bad the situation was out there, but he realised they needed to be resourceful if they wanted to survive getting through the hospital -- and whatever may happen after.
"Do you think I'll have time to grab some equipment from the storage? I have a gut feeling we'll need it. That way we can patch anyone up in the cruiser, should something happen. There are some pretty good first aid supplies in there."

He felt his heartbeat quicken in anticipation of what was about to go down. Leaving his spot by the map, he began to wander around the room -- half to calm his nerves, and half to look for anything -- anything at all -- that might be even slightly worth taking along. His eyes settled on a fire extinguisher, attached firmly to the pale, concrete wall. He detached it, and wondered why there was a fire extinguisher in such an arbitrary place, before snapping his focus back to the task at hand.


 
J.W. Bartosh
logos logos

The Bartosh family leaves their home in Alexandria to the flames, driving off in the Ford F150. Mary-Ann sits in the back with the kids, covering their eyes from the scenes of random violence and carnage which quickly begin to unfold, although thankfully the sturdy truck and the high speed of the drive make for relative safety. Good progress is made toward Burke Lake Dam until some time after hitting Fairfax County Parkway when, Janus runs into serious congestion. Wrecked and abandoned cars piled up everywhere.

1723242616621.png


The blockade might be able to be driven through, but it risked damage to the truck and its occupants. It may also result in a great deal of noise, shunting vehicles out of the way, not to mention reversing and accelerating. To backtrack might be dangerous as well, since at least a few of the crazies still seem to be following the Ford from a distance. Abandoning the truck would result in the loss of nearly all the supplies, and it's unlikely that the family could fit in Lozo's LeSabre.

"Oh my God," Mary-Ann murmurs exasperatedly as she soothes her children. Already, lumbering and swaying, or else violently twitching figures can be seen in amongst the stagnant traffic. A few turn to notice the Ford, already.​

batosh.png

J.W. Bartosh​

As he approaches the wreckage, Janus brings the truck to a slow halt, taking in the scene before him. "Perfect," he says, sighing, "just perfect." He taps his fingers along the 12 o'clock steering wheel, thinking of another way to get out of the situation. His eyes scan the highway. To the left, across the northbound lane, a ramp connects to Sydenstricker Road.

Pressing his foot on the gas pedal, he rotates the wheel to the left and pulls across the median, driving through the lanes and up the hill until meeting the intersection of Sydenstricker and the off-ramp, taking a left and driving along Sydenstricker. He planned to drive on Sydenstricker until he met the transmission right-of-way after Keene Drive. He had driven by it before on his way to Burke Lake with his family on previous trips. Assuming it was generally cleared, he could offroad on the right-of-way until he hit the South Run trail, which he could take to the dam.

"Give a ring to Lonzo," Janus told Mary-Ann. After a couple rings, he picked up. "Lonzo - just wanted to give you a heads-up - Fairfax County has a blockage. We're driving down Sydenstricker until we get to the right-of-way. Just follow it, and you should be able to avoid the mess," Mary-Ann said.

"Got it, thanks for letting me know," Lonzo says. "I'll see you guys soon. Take care now," Lonzo replied quickly.

With that, the Bartoshes were riding along Syendstricker, looking for safety along the transmission right-of-way. Janus keeps his focus on the road ahead, reminding himself of the city's roadways the best he could in case they needed another detour on the way to the dam. Janus thought to tell Mary-Ann to call the Silvas, Bartoshes, and Colten again. None of them picked up, just a silent, dreadful tone after a couple seconds. He continued to drive forward.


1722911212114.png
 
Elias Kelliman
Having peeked out the back door with Dom and saw that the alley leading out toward Jay Street didn't have any of the wackos in it, Elias was relieved. He was pretty nervous about this excursion, despite having seemed all gung-ho about it when Matt brought it up. Looking around at his friends and seeing their expressions, he didn't appear to be the only one feeling this way, except Dom. Dom was always locked in.

"Hey don't fall dude," Elias advises Matt as he ascends the rooftop and breaks into the neighbor's place. He was in there for awhile - or maybe it just seemed like a while because the rest of the group was waiting on him to leave, but eventually he returned, with a lootsack in tow.

"Fuckin' right," Elias affirmed as he took a handful of granola bars and fruit strips. "What is this shit?" Elias asked aloud as he opened one of the 'fruit strips,' taking a bite. Not bad. "Weird neighbor eatin' weird shit," he commented between mouthfuls. Technically, Elias thought, the group could probably now afford to hunker down for at least another day now with the haul from the neighbor's pantry...but they were in too deep now, everyone was ready. It was time to go and face the world, or what was left of it, and see what they could get for themselves.


"A'ight then. Dom, we taking your car? Might be less noticeable on foot, but we'd be able to carry less, and we might need a getaway," Elias asked as he opened the backdoor, and stepped out into the alley. He squinted, blinded by the sun briefly as his eyes became adjusted - he'd not seen it in several days, even less of it since they boarded up the windows. "Fuuuck, that's bright. Before Safeway, we should hit A-1. Those dudes got marb reds for the cheapest," Elias said, not thinking about how the price doesn't really matter anymore. But still, A-1 was closer.
 
Max D.

"I need a smoke," mutters Bubb after a half-retch, half-cough. He opens the door, leaning into it at first, before taking a step back and pulling it open. Immediately, a woman lurches out from the entryway, wrapping her arms around Bubb as he screams and falls to the ground. The woman straddles Bubb as he lets out a blood-curdling scream as she... makes out with him? But then she finally bulls back, chewing on a mouthful of Bubb's face as he screams and writhes, trying to punch her off of him - but he's already missing his lips and chin.

"FUCK! FUUUUUCK! Grrkffrl-!!"

He grasps her by the throat, and forces her off of him. Now the one on top, he pummels the shit out of the dumb bitch who bit him in the face - left, right, left right... until her face was a pulp. Not that that stopped her. He ends up with a plethora of scratches on his arms, and just seems to tire out, while the lady never relents, even after such a severe beating that would have concussed anyone that wasn't superhuman.

"You fucking cu-..." Bubb sobs. Without lips or a chin, his lower face and jaw almost has a skeletal countenance. He slumps off of the woman, who slowly begins to sit up. Outside, a snarl is heard from down the hallway.



Max has her arm still over her eyes and doesn't move the appendage or the rest of her body until hearing the commotion of the woman falling on top of Bubbs, at which point Max confusedly removes her arm and sits up a bit in the bed. This was just in time to see part of her best friend's face in the fucker's mouth. Terror rushes over her like floodwaters bursting through a dam. Max raises a trembling hand to cover her mouth, making a heavy effort to not scream at the top of her lungs. Timidly, she gets out of her bed on the side by the middle nightstand and in between the two beds, and hurriedly gets dressed with the discarded, beer soiled outfit she had worn the day before and gradually took off through the night because of the heat. Survival instincts start kicking in as her heavy mind whirs at a speed which makes the already bad hangover feel worse. I know if I do nothing, Max thinks as she's getting dressed, I will most certainly die. How the fuck do I get out of this? How the fuck how the fuck how the fuck...

Outfitted in a white graphic short-sleeve tee with a black skull on it and torn blue jeans, Max hurriedly grabs her purse off the ground containing her wallet, ID, pepper spray, handful of guitar picks, lighter, pack of cigarettes, and a few items of makeup. Looking to the nightstand, she grabs the TV remote and the analog alarm clock off of the nightstand. Semi-crouched behind the bed, Max feels all she can do is watch as the purely adrenaline powered Bubbs puts down the work on the woman. Max looks to Bubbs as he flops off of the woman, not getting a solid look at his face from the angle she's at but assumes he got mauled so badly by the woman that she didn't necessarily want to see his face. With tears welling up in her eyes at the thought and necessity of leaving her friend behind, Max fights them back. In her rapid thought process, she knows that she has to flee. It was just a matter of starting the potential death-run.

In quick motion, Max vaults over the bed that she was crouched behind as the woman starts to get up. She careens past the injured zombie, hurriedly rushing past her and out the door of the motel room. Once outside on the upper walkway, she first looks to the direction where the screams came from, assumedly towards where she needs to go to the staircase. If the approaching zombie(s) are not immediately in Max's presence, she looks down to below the second story; trying to see if there's any landings softer than concrete she could jump into. She hadn't been a huge fan of the pool at the motel what with all the cigarette butts floating in it when she arrived, but if the choices were pool hopping or a gruesome, painful death, she reckons she'll go with the pool hopping.
 
Bima Mataram
By 10 in the morning, Bima was sorting through the supplies he’d managed to snag from the vending machines. Out of the machines he cracked open on the 1st to 4th floors, only two were still intact due to being obscured, and they were almost empty. But he did score some candy bars and bottled water, which he decided to keep for himself, along with some soda and chips he figured he could trade later.

Adding it all up, besides his heavy-duty clothing, a pack of welding gloves, the floor lamp-pole, and makeshift towel armor, he had $200 in cash, some miscellaneous gold and silver jewelry, a small first aid kit, the screwdriver he used to open the vending machine, a small flashlight, a roll of duct tape, and two packing tapes from utility closets. He’d also collected several rolled-up linens from the hotel rooms. He felt pretty loaded, but it was manageable with the help of his ALICE pack.

Suddenly, the drone of helicopter rotors filled the air again, coming from over by the Capitol. A loud engine rumbled from the street below. "It’s the army!" someone with access to a window shouted from somewhere in the hotel.

Bima peeked out to see a few Humvees pulling up outside, along with a heavy truck. There were some cops, a bunch of people in high-visibility vests, maybe medics, soldiers, and some people in what he thought was hazard gear. They were corralling a large group of civilians into the Holiday Inn. It looked like he was about to get a lot more neighbors which made him grimaced. This was getting bad. He quickly packed up what he had and made a beeline for the back of the building. He knew trying to go out the front was a no-go.

Racing downstairs, he headed straight for the back door, hoping for a way out. But when he took a peek outside from a window, his heart sank. The whole perimeter of the Holiday Inn was surrounded, back door included. Soldiers had already cut off most visible escape routes. He wasn’t getting out of this building anytime soon.

With a halted curse, Bima took a deep breath, trying to think about what to do next as he runs back to his room.
 
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top