anomalousanalogy
Bust :(
The hyperfixation is real and I've got a new starter ready.
I'll accept any canon character, only tentative on Cartman! I'd prefer no violence between our characters, at most a distrust that doesn't build into anything worse ideally.
This was a reply for a TLOU starter - initially Butters found his way to Stan's farm but for this it could be anywhere, or anyone taking shelter in Tegridy, etc. Ideally it would also be just a generic zombie plot as well!
The idea is this is several years after the outbreak Butters finally has to move on from where he'd been holed up and ends up falling into a pit trap near your character's base.
Spoiling the starter because it has some language involved. Please don't feel obligated to match length! I just go a little overboard on starters sometimes. Just let me know where you'd like to set up the RP and we can jump into it!
I'll accept any canon character, only tentative on Cartman! I'd prefer no violence between our characters, at most a distrust that doesn't build into anything worse ideally.
This was a reply for a TLOU starter - initially Butters found his way to Stan's farm but for this it could be anywhere, or anyone taking shelter in Tegridy, etc. Ideally it would also be just a generic zombie plot as well!
The idea is this is several years after the outbreak Butters finally has to move on from where he'd been holed up and ends up falling into a pit trap near your character's base.
Spoiling the starter because it has some language involved. Please don't feel obligated to match length! I just go a little overboard on starters sometimes. Just let me know where you'd like to set up the RP and we can jump into it!
Butters isn't kidding himself. He knows the only reason he's still alive after all this is pure fucking insane luck. He's not strong, he's not a fighter, he's not particularly smart in a way that might've been useful during times like these, he didn't live in a family of doomsday preppers, and he's crafty but nowhere near crafty enough to get by as well as he has up until now.
Maybe the biggest boon had been just how small and out of the way the town was. Not a lot of attention from the rest of the world, and after the first wave of the outbreak, almost no one stuck around that would've drawn in that kind of attention.
That didn't mean there hadn't been threats or close calls, but somehow, out of everyone else in town as far as he can tell, he must have the best luck in the damn world. That, or someone out there really likes him.
Unfortunately, good luck doesn't keep the shelves stocked, and he'd gone as long as he could rationing what he had left, but he's on his last bag of shitty cheese snacks (the Last Resort for food options, but at least they were pumped so full of preservatives that they stayed edible years after expiring) and he needed to find a new source of food before his strength started to wane.
He'd already picked the houses and shops as clean as he felt safe enough to do; unless he wanted to risk getting trapped in an unfamiliar cramped location with something trying to eat him, he figured it might be time to start wandering. Besides, he remembered there being a few patches of farmland near town anyway. Most likely there wouldn't be anything still growing, but grain usually lasted a while, right? The first farm he hit came up bupkis and the sounds coming from inside the buildings themselves were enough to get him to move right along. The next though... way more promising.
The fact that it looked like it was still being maintained to a degree was a great start, but as much as he wants to believe in the good of humanity, Butters isn't ready to risk a fight without getting something fresh in his stomach first.
He doesn't even get close. Traps hadn't even been a possibility in his head. Stupid. The fall knocks the wind and the sense from him, and a throbbing pain in his leg tells him it's at minimum sprained, but probably not broken. His shoulder and head hurt more; rebound must have knocked him a goose-egg to be proud of, but at least he wasn't face down and vulnerable.
When a face pops over the edge of the pit, he scrambles for the hammer at his hip - a stupid weapon, close range and slow, but it was the only thing he felt confident wielding - but it must have slipped away in the fall. Thankfully those few seconds he grappled with the dirt and leaves for it were enough time to realize this wasn't a monster. But now he can't be fully sure he wasn't just seeing things after a knock on the head and after so long being alone.
So he figures a greeting wouldn't hurt - either it's not real and he's just going to be weird by himself until his head stops spinning, or... Well. He lifts both hands and waves them in a jaunty little jiggle before weakly calling out, "Yuh-you got me!"
Maybe the biggest boon had been just how small and out of the way the town was. Not a lot of attention from the rest of the world, and after the first wave of the outbreak, almost no one stuck around that would've drawn in that kind of attention.
That didn't mean there hadn't been threats or close calls, but somehow, out of everyone else in town as far as he can tell, he must have the best luck in the damn world. That, or someone out there really likes him.
Unfortunately, good luck doesn't keep the shelves stocked, and he'd gone as long as he could rationing what he had left, but he's on his last bag of shitty cheese snacks (the Last Resort for food options, but at least they were pumped so full of preservatives that they stayed edible years after expiring) and he needed to find a new source of food before his strength started to wane.
He'd already picked the houses and shops as clean as he felt safe enough to do; unless he wanted to risk getting trapped in an unfamiliar cramped location with something trying to eat him, he figured it might be time to start wandering. Besides, he remembered there being a few patches of farmland near town anyway. Most likely there wouldn't be anything still growing, but grain usually lasted a while, right? The first farm he hit came up bupkis and the sounds coming from inside the buildings themselves were enough to get him to move right along. The next though... way more promising.
The fact that it looked like it was still being maintained to a degree was a great start, but as much as he wants to believe in the good of humanity, Butters isn't ready to risk a fight without getting something fresh in his stomach first.
He doesn't even get close. Traps hadn't even been a possibility in his head. Stupid. The fall knocks the wind and the sense from him, and a throbbing pain in his leg tells him it's at minimum sprained, but probably not broken. His shoulder and head hurt more; rebound must have knocked him a goose-egg to be proud of, but at least he wasn't face down and vulnerable.
When a face pops over the edge of the pit, he scrambles for the hammer at his hip - a stupid weapon, close range and slow, but it was the only thing he felt confident wielding - but it must have slipped away in the fall. Thankfully those few seconds he grappled with the dirt and leaves for it were enough time to realize this wasn't a monster. But now he can't be fully sure he wasn't just seeing things after a knock on the head and after so long being alone.
So he figures a greeting wouldn't hurt - either it's not real and he's just going to be weird by himself until his head stops spinning, or... Well. He lifts both hands and waves them in a jaunty little jiggle before weakly calling out, "Yuh-you got me!"
