Realistic or Modern The Fog

[XlaserbeamsX]

The Fog




The government has been working for years on a secret weapon that would finally take down their enemies. A type of gas that works as fog, floating over habitation all the while destroying all life in it's path. The effects of the fog were immediate, including burning of the flesh and boiling of the organs. The only thing is, the officials don't have a place to test it. They could always use the desert like the creators of bombs, but what would that prove? That the gas floated? No, they needed to test it on live subjects.


Nobody would miss them, it was just a little town! Kaiseburg, Indiana was the perfect place to test the fog! Nobody in that teeny town knew people from the outside, at least they didn't think so. They were mostly old people, anyway, nobody would freak out if the government tested it on such a hidden place. Would they?


They were wrong. They were so, so wrong. Something went bad in the creation of the fog, people didn't burn alive, they died and came back to life. Only, they weren't really alive. They were dead, but walking, and they had an insatiable hunger for something. What was it? Of course, like any other zombie story, it's flesh. Now, there were hundred of old, flesh eating humans on the hunt for something to eat! The government had siphoned all the gas out as soon as they noticed something going wrong. They were flabbergasted, it had worked on the animals they tested it on!




They were unable to keep the outbreak a secret, for soon enough one of the elderly zombies escaped Kaiseburg and went sneaked off in the direction of habitation. Nobody knew about it, everyone thought the zombies were contained in Kaiseburg, but as soon as that old dead man bit into another person's flesh, an uprising occurred. Nerds were saying it was the apocalypse, Christians were praying to their God, and all the while the government fought to calm people down. The person the zombie had bitten got infected, and the virus spread through her body causing her to fall ill and die within days. Only, she didn't stay dead, either. She came back to life as the elders had done.


Now, these zombies weren't your usual, run-of-the-mill brain dead creeps. No, they were agile, quick. Able to jump and run. They had complete control of their limbs, the only difference between them and humans was the rotting flesh. ​

 

[XlaserbeamsX]

Ronnie Mayweather

​

It was nearly seven in the morning, the sun was up, shining over the canopy of trees, and birds chirped their good-morning songs to and fro in the forest. Snoring came from tents around the campsite, a loud cow-bell ringing nearby. Veronica Mayweather, a former police officer of Chicago Police Department, stood in front of her tent, a light black jacket zipped up over a grey t-shirt, and a pair of boot-cut jeans hugging her hips. Her shoes were black hiking boots, and she had pushed her unruly black hair up into a bun. It was time to start the day.


She'd been awake for nearly two hours, staring up at the top of her tent as she tried to go back to sleep. However, her plans had been forgotten as soon as the ringing began. There was a perimeter around camp, barbed wire laced with bells that tinkled when something hit them. She could hear the other group members as they groaned and pulled themselves out of bed as she made her way to the sound of the bells. One of the infected stood just outside the barbed wire fence, trying to get over it. Luckily, the decomp of the body was so bad it couldn't really maneuver itself over the fence, so Veronica pulled her machete from the sheath on her hip and drove the sharp tool into the skull of the infected, her eyes showing little remorse as she did so.


After dragging the body away, she returned to the camp to see it functioning fully, the patrons were working together to get the blood flow moving. Veronica smiled, happy she hadn't gotten much blood on her, as she waved to a couple of her group members.


"Good morning, everyone!" She called, moving to the fire-pit to help bring the embers to life. As Ronnie looked around at the people in her camp she thanked her lucky stars she hadn't been stuck with a group of creeps. They were all decent people, sure, there were fights that broke out from time to time, but Ronnie knew she could count on them to get the jobs done. Unfortunately, they were running a little low on good supplies, so the scavengers would need to go on a run soon.

​

Christopher Hawkins

​

Christopher, like Veronica, had woken when he heard the ringing of the cow-bells. He had forced himself up, shirtless, and out of his tent to see what the commotion was. However, he shrugged and reentered his tent when he saw Veronica drag the corpse away from camp. He knew that the woman was capable of protecting herself, and decided to take some time to get ready. He dressed in a blue plaid flannel shirt and a pair of jeans that covered his boots. He left his hair messy, as usual, and strapped his pistol to his hip before walking out to join the rest of the group.


He took a seat close to the fire-pit, watching as the embers slowly came to life. Surely breakfast would be soon. The scavenger knew he'd need to organize a run, and it would be best if they were well fed before setting out for the town which was beginning to seem a lot more empty than when they'd first settled at the camp a couple months before. Chris surveyed the crowd, nodding to the others with a good-natured smile and a nod.


Before joining with the group, Chris had been alone and ready to end things. He hadn't wanted to live in a world so ravaged by death and decay. But Ronnie had found him, taken him in, and given him another chance. A chance to prove that he was strong enough to make it through hell and help others while doing so. However, despite his happiness and jocular nature, he was afraid. He knew that something bad was bound to happen, because nothing gold could stay.


(There will be an enforced posting order once everyone has posted in this thread once. If anyone of you are caught skipping other people you will first be warned, before being kicked from the roleplay. Nobody likes to be left behind! However, if you fail to post during your designated turn for more than two days, I will allow the next person to skip you. If you have any problems, post in the OOC tab or PM me! Happy RPING!)

 

[MistressOfSimplicity]

Asterix McNeil


One of The Hunters


Morning started with the ringing of the bells. The bells were an alarm put in place to alert them of any infected that touched the barbed wire fence around the camp. Usually, her mornings started with the ringing of the bells but today she stayed in her tent for a little longer than usual, sitting cross legged in a black cotton tank top and a pair of comfortable tights she's had since the world went to shit. They were wearing out in the thighs and knees because they were a go to clothing item for mornings like this and she didn't really have a selection of clothes to choose from. She had one other pair of black ripped at the knee jeans and a sweater to put over her tank top right now.


Asterix lifted herself off the ground, barely able to stand her full height in her tent. She reached down and plucked her sweater from the corner and slipped it over her head, not bothering with her shoes just yet. She picked them off the tent floor and unzipped the tent, stepping out to be greeted by the crisp morning air. She yawned and then stretched her limbs to their fullest extent before placing her combat boots down and slipping into them. In the distance, she could hear someone greeting the already awake camp members and she finished tieing up her boots before she made her way over to the populated area of the camp.


"Mornin' Ronnie." Asterix greeted the girl as she walked over. "What was it that set off the bells?" She asked her, chewing on her lower lip as she pulled her fingers through her knotted hair.


@XlaserbeamsX

 

[revalia]

Leah LeBlanche.


Medic

​

Leah had no troubles of waking up, an early riser like herself, after all she barely slept just in case anything happened. She was no fighter nor no skilled weapon wielder which worked quite against her during these times but she had the hands to heal and manage to support and also the knowledge. Being an intern midwife quite helped and acquiring some experience in first hand operations did the trick. She had gotten out of the tent as soon as she heard the bell rang, in her dark grey jeans and a simple tattered white tank top and a pair of black compact boots she headed out and went straight to the tent they kept the medical supplies.


Lately they were running quite low as the amount of pain killers, bandages and gauzes were quite low and mainly the pain killers are a first to go together with anti-septic and sanitary for the ladies' cases. She had to confront one of the scavengers if she could find them that is and that's what she did. Walking her way out of the tent, she yawned out and scratched her blonde hair which was in a side braid and scanned to see if she could see one of the scavengers walking around, that is, if they weren't still asleep. She needed to ask as to accompany them in the following run for medical supplies being that she knows the correct items. However she did notice that campers had already been awake and struggling to actually wake up, making her way there.




Mentions: don't know the scavangers tho (who are?)

 

[RambVines]

Kaleb Whittle

Before the outbreak of infected, Kaleb had slept in all the time, waking up after noon most days, groggy and grumpy. Nowadays, however, the thought of zombies tended to keep him up. If he did get any sleep, he often woke after a nightmare filled with decaying flesh and guts. It seemed that something had finally broken that particular habit of his, though he would rather have woken up late every day rather than go through this hell on earth.


At the ringing of the farm bells, Kaleb had already been awake, staring up at the top of the inside of his tent. His eyes were ringed with dark circles. With a grunt, he pushed himself up and, with his back hunched as he stood inside the low tent, tugged on his canvas jacket. He holstered his pistol and fumbled with the buckle of his belt before finally fastening it.


He stepped out of the tent after having placed his glasses on. The earthy smell of the forest and morning dew was refreshing, especially compared to the inside of his tent. For a moment, Kaleb could pretend that the outbreak hadn't happened, that the infected didn't currently roam the entirety of America. But it had, and he had work to do.


He trudged across the forest ground towards the camper. Picking through the food supplies, Kaleb noticed that they seemed rather low. Well, crap. Tomato stew should work, I guess. He grabbed a bunch of tomatoes and tucked them into a woven basket before making his way towards the firepit, winding his way around the rest of the group, where he began to boil a pot of water and prepare the stew.


As he chopped the tomatoes on a plastic cutting board, he thought, Maybe I should come along on this run. I could work on my shooting. And I could pick out some proper spices and cook up a proper meal for once. At the thought of real food, his mind was decided. Kaleb would ask one of the scavengers whether he could tag along. After breakfast was served.

 

[Tasteless]

Delilah


Medic
​

Blood covered her hands and she frantically touched all over his chest, his eyes were bloodshot and quickly going cloudy like a dead fish. Delilah wanted to scream, to cry and fix this horrendous mess. She watched as he slowly shook his head, opening his mouth to say final words but a sound didn't reach Delilah. She couldn't hear his final words before he took the barrel of the pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger. Instead of a gunshot, there was ringing.


Bells ringing.


Delilah immediately sat up in her tent her heart racing and drops of sweat trickling down her forehead. She trembles and desperately tries to calm her nerves. Her mind flashes back to when he would make her mint tea and it was always able to calm her nerves and lull her to sleep. She trembles harder and fights the stinging in her throat. Delilah inhales slowly and exhales slowly a few times before regaining herself. She carefully gets to her bare feet and gets dressed. She pulls on black jeans and a dark gray tank top. The tank top exposed to few tattoos on her body, such as the one on her wrist. She traces the ink with her finger tips, before slipping on her black shoes.


She hopes that she hadn't been talking or crying in her sleep loud enough for the others to hear as she carefully unzips her tent and steps out. Everyone is pretty awake, sitting near the fire. Her stomach churned at the thought of food, as she always felt ill after having those nightmares. She silently approached the group "Good morning." She said softly before taking a seat on the right of [/COLOR][/FONT][FONT=Oxygen][COLOR=#bfbfbf][SIZE=18px]Christopher[/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE][FONT=Oxygen][COLOR=#bfbfbf] . Delilah remained a respectable distance but not too far that it seemed she didn't trust him. She shook softly, the morning air was a tad bit on the frigid side. She listened to the birds calmly chirp and fly above as if the world wasn't full of danger and death.

 

[CentEX]

OWEN GRIFFITH - MEDIC





As the morning bells rang to wake up everyone in the camp, Owen had already been more then awake in his tent reading a book, trying to waste some time until it was finally time for breakfast. Sadly, he couldn't sleep more than a few hours no matter how hard he tried and would always wake up earlier then necessary. This routine started when the world fell apart, because before everything went to shit he would gladly oversleep at any opportunity he would get, but now was different. It just didn't feel right, sleeping while there are countless monsters who wonder with no aim in mind, just in hopes of finding their next victim to dismantle. But, not wanting to think about it more then he should, Owen slowly got up on his feet lowering his head not to hit the roof of his tent and decided it was time to start a new day. From the floor of the tent Owen gathered his clothes for the day, a solid color white t-shirt and his regular jeans and army boots, he dressed himself rather quickly. He picked up his sidebag that he always carried with him, and finally stepped outside the tent.


As the somewhat cold morning breeze rushed through the camp, Owen started looking around. Some were already up, while others were still messing around in their tents. It seemed like another "normal" day was about to start, but you can never be certain. At least not nowadays, with the dead killing the living. But to be fair, the group had been working well to keep everything and everyone safe. Every person was doing their job and they were working well together, with some bumps in the road here and there, but overall everyone seemed to get along. However, things can't be perfect forever and he was quickly reminded how low on medical supplies they were once he saw Leah exit the tent where said supplies should be. Her face clearly showed that the group was running dangerously low and they had to eventually gather more supplies, which was never a fun activity.


Letting out a big sigh, almost of desperation, Owen decided to go sit down and wait for breakfast near the fire with the other members of the group. As much as he was worried about their supply situation, he was too hungry to think about anything but food. He could only hope for a decent breakfast, to at least kick off the day well.