• 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 Over My Dead Body [Apocalypse]

Jax--


I look out the corner of my eye as the old farmer guy takes Ari from the room. I poke Jocelynn.


"Look, nine o'clock" I mutter, she turns slightly and sees the door close.


"We gotta go" I whisper at her, she nods slightly and we slowly move for the door. With minimum sounds possible we escape the building and get to our car. I jump in the driver seat and jocelyn beside me. I flick out the headlights and see another vehicle pulling away. I put the car in gear and follow it.


"Check the rest of the car for anyone hiding, I want nothing surprising us" I tell Jocelynn. She grabs her metal poll and jumps the seat as we follow the kidnapper.
 
Jae came out from the tree and looked at the two or three people uo on the tree house or whatever people wanted to call it. He didn't hesitate and climbed up there. He could had thanked them but crossed his arms, looking at them. "I'm not ugly, I just feel better covering my face or else I could get infected." He told them. He took off the mask, placing his hood and looking at them with a straight face. @femjapanriceball @Solemn Jester
 
Opium said:
["kidnapper", hes helping her unless he would've been wearing her face by now.]
Click to expand...
[i'm just going by what they would think, ya know, friend gets taken by a cannibal, you're a teenager, it's an apocalypse, you only expect the worst]
 
Arthur grinned, helping the man up. "Well, welcome to Fort Up-In-A-Tree-This-Had-Better-Work. I'm Arthur Saedor, this is my son Matthew, and my friend, Striker. Glad you made it here and not somewhere infested with those zombies. What's your name?" He extended his hand for the newcomer to shake.


@Solemn Jester @IIIREXIIIARCHERIIIII
 
Demetra woke up when the truck went over a large bump, bouncing her head off the headrest. She blinked and looked at her surroundings groggily. The farmer was driving them somewhere. She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Her mouth still had the faint metallic taste of blood. 'Well. So much for going along with the crazy person's wishes so you could escape. You've just gotten yourself stuck in a truck with him' She thought to herself bitterly.


"Where uh.. Where are we going?" Demetra asked him quietly.


@Opium
 
Last edited by a moderator:
They drove down the freeway, the overhead passes cast darkened shadows and the box Chevy hummed softly against the smooth road as he occasionally glanced at the lady, then the boy he had taken in for asylum prior that day. He still wore the camouflaged helmet from Vietnam that read "PUSSY KING" in terrible handwriting. He was cautious as to keeping the vehicle at a steady speed allowing both passengers comfort as he rode along though had mistakenly struck a bump which jeered her awake.


"Where uh.. Where are we going?" she spoke quietly, Wayne turned the dial of the radio to lower the volume. He leaned over a slight whilst keeping his eyes strained on the road.


"Huh sweetheart? Didn't hear ya'," he struggled to compose himself and sound friendly, inside he was conflicting between certain temptations and whether or not to burden himself with these people yet he remained trusting. She asked again and Wayne promptly respond.


"Ah, yeahyeahyeah, somewhere quiet, reorganize where these assholes ain't gathered, sound safe with you?" he glanced over briefly, then focused back on the road, his right hand on the gear shift and left hand situated slightly left of center on the steering wheel.


@CrystalGoblets


[And ahm he'd enjoy that.]
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Jae didn't answer at all as he stare at them. He didn't know wether to tell them or not, but he knew he could be kicked and left for them to eat him. Well it could be both ways. "Jae." That was all he needed to say. @femjapanriceball @Solemn Jester
 
Penelope Harper:


She wrenched herself away, bursting into the bathroom to push herself against the door, pulling the bolt across. Her sobs loud, gasped. "DAD. DADDY" Penny screamed, her voice twisting and contorting to reach new broken tones. Stuffed bear clutched, ducked in the corner under the sink. The small girl folded into herself, collapsing into a heap beneath the porcelain bowl. Hair stuck to her wet face, streaked with salty, harsh tears. Fear thundering in her chest like a stampede. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she could see her mother. Soft cotton embraces, sweetened kisses and rose perfume. Father, with his smoke and pine forest scents, large warm smiles and jokes that made you cringe. Her brothers gurgled sentences, clapping and little high pitched giggles when you tickled him. The people she loved most.


Thump. The door was hit again, groans of hunger and animalistic intention rang out. The want for flesh. No matter whose it was.


Timothy Harper:


The trek towards the nursing home took what seemed like forever. At last he reached it. Automated doors jammed open. The debris of the floor had been disturbed, that much he could tell. Alas, in times like these who could tell the tracks of a human to that of the undead? Continuing to quietly pick his way through the abandoned building, avoiding blood smears, or broken glass that rattled against his boots, Timothy came to the blockade as his daughter had. Yet this time- He heard it. That voice. Penelope. Panic encompassed him, shoving the barricade to fight his way though. The screaming continuing. "PENELOPE" The fireman bellowed, eyes wide as he fell through the stacks of hastily put chairs. The murder scene dismissed as he sprinted to room 105. Shoving the door open to be met with the face of a man, he'd considered family. Slowly his father-in-law, turned. Horrifically mauled and malformed. A growl erupted the carcasses lungs, wheezing and rough before screeching as Tim brought his axe upon the walkers skull. Again and again. Blood splattering his visor. "Penny?!" He called, heaving for breath whilst placing his palm on the door.


A bolt slid across, opening the wooden pane hesitantly. "Dad?" Penelope whispered, her eyes red and clothes ragged and dirt covered. Both embraced tightly, Timothy breaking into sobs with his daughter held within his arms. "I love you, I love you, I love you." He cried, shoving his visor away to kiss his daughter's forehead, running his hands to flatten her hair. "I won't leave you again, I promise. I promise."
 
Demetra felt slightly uncomfortable driving off into the sunset with this unstable man, but at the moment it was out of her control. He seemed... Nice enough at times. She glanced at him and then back out the window. 'At least, when he's not shooting madly at things that aren't really there or eating people' She thought. She sighed and laid her head against the window gently.


"Sure... Sounds fine I guess. Just as long as-" A sudden realization hit her.


"Hey, do you know where my friends went? Y'know, the girl with the tattoos and her annoying brother," The right corner of Demetra's mouth quirked up slightly. She glanced in the back of the truck and saw Jun and another kid sitting back there.


@Opium @KaiaWolf @Neuton @SeaSkies
 
"Nice to meet you, Jae." Arthur shook Jae's hand before looking around the treehouse. "I guess you can make yourself comfortable for now. If you're tired, we have hammocks to sleep on. We also have trail mix and tomato soup if you're hungry. I'll be searching the place for water bottles." He began his search, but only found several cans of Diet Coke and Dr. Pepper. Close enough, but he was going to have to remind Matthew not to consume so much sugar.


Meanwhile, Matthew was drowning out all noise with rock music. He was still slightly in shock from the entire brother-and-mother-are-dead thing. He gave Jae a small smile before spacing out.


(What he's listening to:


)


@IIIREXIIIARCHERIIIII @Solemn Jester
 
Wayne gave a solemn nod concentrating on the road, the scenery was pitch black except for the faint light from the street lights. There was a caravan of three vehicles, Wayne unbeknownst to the third that trailed them. The second car, he presumed, had her other friends within. He shrugged his shoulders with a timid response, too occupied with thought and conflicting emotions that boiled over deep within him, the surfacing tensions that made him doubt himself. That picture he had discover from earlier, his grin, the helicopter, date and scenery of the Vietnamese jungles around Khe Sahn. He shook the thought and briefly smiled.


"They're following us," he answered, "there's water in the glove box if you're thirsty," he nod, motioning toward it. He slumped back in the driver's seat and let out a prolonged sigh, rubbing his brow and then clearing his throat.


"You like music?" Wayne proposed as he shook off his helmet.
 
Last edited by a moderator:

HUGO BROWKEEPSIE





He silently breathed a sigh of raw depression to himself as he steadily inspected the lay of the land from the safe habitat of a well placed radio tower, fortunately it was defended by some shoddy wooden fences, which were significantly wrecked by the stupidly clumsy dead, the fence was easily breaker upon by a few well placed shots and a shoulder ram. After climbing the considerably tall ladder to the tower, which took about 5 minutes of his precious time, and once he reached the final stage of the climb, he gladly thanked himself for not having a phobia of heights, or acrophobia, to be precise. He climbed up to the reinforced platform before looking at the scene with a dumbfounded expression on his face. There was a folding chair and a bottle of beer, which was unopened and possibly not a booby trap.


He shrugged off those thoughts before finally thinking up that it was the idiotic God's idiotic gift to one very disgruntled man who just climbed up a ladder which was about a quarter of a mile, metaphorically. He slowly went for the bottle before tightly grasping the warm and Sun-cooked bottle, as he quickly backed away from the chair. Fortunately, it was no trap or ambush, come to think of it again, why would there be any traps in the mile high club? He casually sat on the chair, relaxing his posture, he decided to ponder about today's event, even if the sun had to be sweltering, forcing him to remove his sleeveless jacket.


You're in a very pointless dream, Hugo. A very pointless dream...


That is, if you don't count the extreme amounts of bootlickers and other cold-blooded beings who really don't have any sense of morality or conscience. You're becoming a full-fledged psychologist and philanthropist. Then again, it has been only two days since the world got flooded by lazy binge-eating carcasses.


HUGO snapped out of his sticky trance before finally deciding to do what he was actually supposed to do:


Explore the lands, and mentally note it.


He looked down at the grounds where the all the lone farms sat in their respective places, slowly fathering dust and crawlers due to their potentially dead owners. Then there was the horde of oddly dressed but freshly turned dead tourists, continuously groaning without any signs of fatigue except for an extremely dry and raspy throat. Although, they were a very minor threat, it was still very pitiful, as they tried to navigate through the lands with their poor spatial recognition.


There was another one who looked like soldier, or a hunter, he couldn't quite make it out about what he was wearing. Nevertheless, he really didn't care, all zombies were practically the same. And there was your run-off-the-mill human tourists who still thought that this was all a neatly planned out game or festival and there was nothing to worry about. Well, it looked like he was going to join his touristic brethren.


He looked at the scenery until a certain car, the one he came in, which was an awkwardly painted utility pickup truck, full of graffiti imitations and other 'cool' stuff. Strangely, the keys were still left in its respective slot, and it looked like it was a fucking hipster's broke technical. It was clearly coloured using spray paint cans, and not good ones, there was disturbing amounts of pink, green and blue, especially pink.


The music were all funk or ghetto trash, and had little to no significance in this dead world. He breather yet another sigh of despair.


His sigh of despair quickly altered into a grunt of pure annoyance. The world was filled with gung-ho walkers with a terrible need to sadist their throes of hunger with human meat, which was sadly, the biggest mistake they made.


He again noticed that the formerly alive and high-spirited tourist's guts were now on the asphalt road. While his head and other body areas were gnawed upon by three to four meat bags.


Ok, let's see. A group of not-so-friendly former humans, a group of another cannibalistic menial drones, and a car rushing down the road. Wait a minute? A car? Road? That's the least of your concerns, Hugo... Don't even think about it. You promised yourself that you're going to be into any more heroics, that vehicle may contain innocent people!


"Bah, humbug! They deserve nothing from me!" He muttered to himself, unintentionally imitating someone really familiar, though he just couldn't put it.


He saw another car tailing that car, and they were on a freeway, booming past the lands without the slightest regard for the former laws about the speed limit, or that's what he thought so. He lazily launched himself from the chair before trying to slide down the ladder, which ended horrifically, with a pair of metaphorically burnt hands. Although the exit itself was quite easy.


He went back for his beat-up and flashy truck before hastily getting inside it, and stomping on the gas pedal. Yeah, he now realized that he neither turned the car off nor did he rememeber where he left the keys in. Nevertheless, it wasn't needed, for few humans actually roamed the city, and even fewer were actual car thiefs.


He quietly tailed the two cars, while maintaining a steady yet brisk pace of speed. He really, really needed to knwo what this hillbilly junkies were up to nowadays. Probably trying to forge a fake key to gain access to a closed pawn shop even though they could've breaked the window to get in.


Could've...





Not that they would really do it, no. They were all just entirely stupid and potentially inbred freaks.
 
Demetra let out a sigh of relief. Her friends were following them. Good. At least she was still around people she knew. She suddenly realized how dry her throat was after the farmer mentioned water. She leaned forward and dug through the glove box until her fingers grazed the cool container holding the liquid of life. She busted the cap off and greedily brought it to her lips and took three big gulps, spilling a little on her lap and shirt in the process. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then put the cap back on and returned the bottle to the glove box.


"Music? Heck yeah. Who doesn't like music," Demetra said smiling crookedly at the farmer as she leaned over to flip through radio stations. After a couple minutes she huffed and turned the radio off.


"Nothing but static," She mumbled. She looked around the truck for CDs and squealed happily when she found one worthwhile.


"Jackpot! I love this album!" She said happily as she slipped in Up to Here by The Tragically Hip. The song New Orleans Is Sinking started to play and she tapped her foot along to the beat.
 
Jax--


"I wonder if human flesh has the same effect as alcohol on someone's driving, because this guy is all over the road." I mutter. "Learn to drive you fucking prick!" I yell.


"Jax! shut up! Holy shit! Now i remember why I didn't go to uni in Canada." Jocelynn responds.


"Don't make me pull this car over!"


"You sound exactly like Dad does!"


"I will fight you right now! Try me!"


"I'll fucking deck you little bro."


I'm about to throw back another retort but Jocelynn cuts me off.


"Hey, are they exiting into the rest stop? Weird, maybe they need gas or something. Quick follow them!"


"What the fuck else am I gonna do Joce, meander past all jolly ho and continue on to Alberta?" I respond bitterly.


"Don't sass me, you tit." She responds and I give her the finger.


"Nice! He doesn't even use his fucking blinker! Holy fuck!" I yell before turning onto the exit.
 
CrystalGoblets said:
[No we left; too many walkers. We're currently on the freeway, trying to find somewhere to stay]
Click to expand...
((Wait, I thought that was just to guys... Ethan and Jackson in the red pickup are following them?))
 
Wayne began to nod his head to the beat, a broad grin plastered across his face. He applied pressure to the brakes ultimately slowing the box Chevy as he shuffled around in his pockets.


"Hold on," he announced, retrieving a crumpled and grazed picture, it had white creases around it though the image was still clear. Wayne yanked down the sun visor situate above him and slipped the picture into a strap letting it remain there. It sat their, displayed to them both:


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_03/waynevietnam.PNG.76733744324136a9688fe732c741c73e.PNG" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="112252" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_03/waynevietnam.PNG.76733744324136a9688fe732c741c73e.PNG" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


The same helmet he wore earlier was the one identical to the picture, it had signatures scribbled over it in sharpie and of course displaying the trademark "PUSSY KING" on the back, to the side in smaller though visible letters read "THE LAST KINGS", their squad name.


Wayne once more accelerate harshly, jolting the vehicle's passengers forward then back as New Orleans is Sinking blared through the speaker. He finally spoke,


"Fuck, forgot I had this album, never knew you'd enjoy this, with your generation and shit," he spat out the window.


"Say, hardly introduced m'self, I'm Wayne or 'Dale', whatever the fuck you prefer, you?" he glanced at her then back to the road.

 

Attachments

  • waynevietnam.PNG
    waynevietnam.PNG
    266.8 KB · Views: 24
Last edited by a moderator:
Demetra regarded the photo Wayne had pulled out and hung up appreciatively.


"Can I call you Pussy King?" She asked jokingly.


"I'm Demetra Carina. You can call me Deme or Ari, whichever you prefer," She smiled at him and found her gaze returning to the photo.


"The Last Kings... So, you're a war vet?" She asked gently, unsure whether the war was a touchy subject with him or not.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 4 (members: 0, guests: 4)

Similar threads

lostbird
Fandom ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴᴛʜ, ɪᴄ.
dead by daylight mystery survival horror
Replies
8
Views
284
Wyll
Wyll
Andalusite
Realistic or Modern Tarasp School of Excellence – Mafia Boarding School
Replies
20
Views
351
Talathel
Talathel
KangaDoom
Fandom MHA RP (Mix of OC and Canon) -Actual RP-
Replies
10
Views
189
Vee27
Vee27
FaeFoolery
Realistic or Modern Court of Blood [An Original Vampire Roleplay]
dark fantasy urban fantasy vampire
Replies
12
Views
514
CinnamorollLoverVAVR
CinnamorollLoverVAVR
Elenion Aura
Fantasy DUNGEON DELVER: Secrets of Caedia — Expedition #5, The Frozen Waste
Replies
14
Views
394
Love_In_Idleness
Love_In_Idleness
Back
Top