Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 25, 2010 23:06:21 GMT -6
"Over a thousand dollars to fix it? And I don't suppose it can be fixed anytime soon?"
"It won't be until tomorrow at least, sorry." The mechanic said this, not looking away from the greasy metal part he was busily wiping at with a once white, now black, rag.
Michael let out a long sigh. New Year's Eve. He had made the trip nearly four-hundred miles to visit his parents for the weekend, and was on his way back home. With nearly a hundred miles still to go, his car began smoking. Luckily, he was fairly close to the small mechanic's shop in which he now resided.
"Damn. Well I guess I'm not making it to the party. Well, do you have a phone I could use and call a cab?"
"Nope, sorry," the mechanic spoke plainly, still busy with the motor part in hand.
Go figure. The one time he forgot his cell phone at home, his car would have to break down in the middle of no-where.
"Party, huh?"
A voice from behind startled Michael. Turning around he saw an older man in overalls. He had white, thick hair and a mustache to match. Scratching his forehead, he stared back at Michael, apparently waiting for an answer.
"Uh, yeah. I got invited to a pretty big party in the city this year, but I guess I won't be making it." Michael motioned with his hand towards his vehicle.
The man turned his head, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. "It wouldn't be over on Canova Island would it?"
It wasn't the most difficult of deductions. It was the only place anywhere near here that could even be considered a city.
"Yes, sir."
"Well as it just so happens, I was on my way there myself for some business."
"I thought you said you were goin' there on account of your wife wanting some of that expensive wine." The voice of the always-busy mechanic reminded you once again of his existence.
"Well, keeping the missus happy is my business." The older man laughed at his own joke, turning his attention once again towards Michael. "So, what do you say? My old truck might not be as fancy as that car of yours, but it will get you there, and before the ball drops." Once again he stared expectantly, this time with big eyes. He made it almost sound like an adventure.
Michael didn't even pause to consider it. The vehicle could be a two seat bicycle for all he cared, as he desperately wanted to make it to the party. After all, it wasn't every year he got invited to the "Castello d'Acqua", a very expensive and fancy hotel that was often booked several months in advance. How his sister scored him an invite was beyond him.
"I would appreciate that very much!" His excitement was unable to be contained.
"Excellent! By the way, name's Bernard." He extended a hand, covered by a dirty glove.
"Michael Clifford," he said, taking his hand, "A pleasure to meet you."
Well, Bernard wasn't lying. His truck was definitely not as fancy as his car. It was colored red by paint and rust - mostly rust. The engine clunked and spit as it started, the windows both permanently lowered an inch or two from the top, and the interior torn and burned in several places. How the prehistoric beast of a machine still ran while his fairly new car lay quietly at the mechanics dumbfounded Michael.
Then again, it seemed many things from years ago worked better than they do now - at least that is what his parents have been sure to tell him repeatedly. In this country setting it seemed to ring true. Even Bernard, his face full of wrinkles, seemed strong, as if chiseled out of stone. His hands were no doubt just as rugged from the years he no doubt spent farming the land.
At least, that is what Michael assumed. For the past several miles all he saw were fields and fields, separated only by an occasional barn or farmhouse. He saw many more animals than he did people. The landscape almost became hypnotic, as his eyes began to flutter, working to fight off sleep.
Then a sudden, faint pain in his side, followed by a burning sensation. As Michael turned to see what had happened, he saw a cow in the middle of the road, the old truck closing in fast.
What will you, taking the role of Michael, do?
A. Grab the wheel and turn it B. Attempt to reach your foot across and slam the brakes C. Yell at Bernard, pointing at the cow ahead D. Yell something (state what) in hopes Bernard will understand while simultaneously checking your side E. Other
Please state your option if choosing E, as well as what to say if you choose D. If anyone decide to change their vote, it is fine so long as it is done before my next posting. If you vote multiple times, the final one posted will count.
Michael Clifford Status: Faint pain in side followed by a small burning sensation Wearing: T-Shirt, Jeans, Sneakers Inventory: Wallet (Driver's License, Family Photo, Key, $37)
Bernard ???
Off topic: I will try to keep this to a minimal, but just wanted to say a hello. First time creating a CYOA, and it isn't exactly based on Dead Rising, but just zombies in general. If you notice anything different I should be doing, or just want to throw in a suggestion for the way I do things, feel free. Hope you enjoy it!
|
|
|
Post by Tbone on Jul 26, 2010 9:22:20 GMT -6
A
|
|
|
Post by Vandy on Jul 26, 2010 10:01:51 GMT -6
A, and most CYOAs aren't based on Dead Rising.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 26, 2010 18:53:11 GMT -6
A wins with 2 votes.
Michael grabs the wheel, turning it quickly. The truck skids across the road, sliding into the grass and dirt. Bernard's gloved hands return to view, taking the wheel as he hits the brakes, slowing to an eventual halt.
"What were you doing?" Michael bursts out. "Didn't you see that cow!"
"I'm, I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep, then I saw you jump and it startled me. The cow must have just ran out into the road as I turned towards you."
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Michael finally spoke out. "Do you want me to drive the rest of the way?"
"No, no. I won't let my eyes leave the road again. I'm sorry." Bernard repeated his apology several times before the startled man finally agreed.
"Alright. Just keep your eyes straight ahead." The elderly man nodded several times before slowly pulling away, the cow getting smaller in the rear view mirror, disappearing in the distance.
Michael decided to keep awake and alert, and the near tragic events were sure to help. His eyes darted back and forth rapidly, watching for any more bovine ready to dart into the truck's path.
"Redbrook road, wasn't it?"
Michael's eyes lazily rose.
"Redbrook road,right son?" Bernard asked again.
He fell asleep? It seemed his mind was whirling just moments ago, his nerves fried, and his body full of adrenaline. But yet, here he was, waking up in the puttering, backfiring truck, heading across the long bridge onto Canova Island, looking out at the now dark sky.
"Y-yeah. I can't believe I slept the whole way." Michael was a little embarrassed, but happy that Bernard made it without anymore trouble.
"Oh, don't worry about that. Probably tired after the stress of your car breaking down and all."
The ride continued in silence for most of the remaining trip. "This is it." Michael pointed towards the road to the right. "At the very end of the street."
"Ah, you live in Dufay, hm? I thought a young man like you would be in the thick of the city. Where do you work, anyhow? If you don't mind my asking that is."
Dufay was a smaller suburb outside of Canova City. Instead of high rising sky scrapers, the landscape was mostly covered with homes, smaller businesses, and parks. Michael wasn't surprised when Bernard had thought only of the big city.
"No, not at all."
What is Michael's reply?
A. "I'm actually going to college right now." B. "I'm unemployed right now, hoping to find something nearby." C. "I work at a fast food place. Not the best of jobs, but it pays the bills." D. "I have an office job. Nothing too exciting, but it pays well enough." E. (joke) "I would tell you, but then I would have to kill you." F. (lie) "I'm a scientist working on some pretty new stuff." G. Other (specify what job)
Bernard nodded his head as the two reached the end of the street. "Not a bad looking place," Bernard said as he scanned over the house.
It wasn't really much. A rather small house sitting at the end of a dead-end road. Still, Michael couldn't complain. His grandparents had lived there before and, on their passing, left it to their daughter. As his mother already had a beautiful home, she decided to give it to Michael. "Thanks," was all he could think to reply.
"Well, Michael, I hope things work out better for you for the rest of the night."
"Yeah, me too." He managed a smile as his thoughts once again turned to the party at hand.
The party is going to begin before long, though you also know it will continue on through the night and well into morning. What will you do? Select as many as desired, unless chosing F.
A. Offer to pay Bernard for the ride (how much? will average votes) B. Go search for your cell phone C. Take a shower and get more presentable D. Change into your finest suit E. Other additional actions (specify what) F. Quickly grab your suit and forget everything else.
Once prepared, how will you get to the party now that your car is kaput? Select one
A. Ask Bernard to wait for you to get ready and drive you there B. Try a neighbor's house and hope they will take you C. Take a bus to the subway station, then ride to the city. D. Call your co-worker Ed, who works in the same department as you. E. Call your friend Eric, who you met in high school. F. Call your sister, who may already be at the party, and ask her to get you. G. Other (specify option)
|
|
|
Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Jul 26, 2010 20:03:08 GMT -6
A: B, C, D: F
|
|
|
Post by Vandy on Jul 27, 2010 8:06:40 GMT -6
1- A 2- B, C, D 3- F
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2010 0:57:50 GMT -6
A / B, C, D / F win...
Michael waved as Bernard drove off in search of his wine. He glanced down, grabbing the newspaper from the concrete step outside his home.
"Local Man Claims Canova Nuclear Plant Illegally Dumping Radioactive Wastes"
"Maybe my friends were right," Michael thought to himself, "I should probably just cancel this subscription and use the internet like everyone else to find my news."
Tossing it on the table as he entered the house, Michael decided there was no time to waste. Though he might not be there for the start of the party, there was no reason to go looking like a slob. He threw his clothes aside, jumped in the shower, and then took time to get dressed up.
Looking the mirror, he wondered how he looked. The word that he could best think of was average. He wasn't really tall, but not short either. His hair was the same. Not long, not short. Not a dark brown or a blond, but somewhere between. He didn't see anything wrong with the way he looked, he just didn't see anything that made him stand out. With a shrug, he sat down and tied his shoes.
After, he decided to search for his phone. It took longer than expected, but Michael was once again acquainted with his full-of-apps phone. Phone in hand, he decided it would be best to give a call to someone he knew would be going to the party.
"Hey, Veronica. Can you come pick me up for the party?"
"What? I can hardly hear you." The sound of music and voices drowned out the conversation. "Just text me."
With a sigh, Michael texted his sister. After a bit of explaining his situation and why he was without a vehicle, she agreed to come pick him up.
As he expected, it took quite some time for his sister to arrive. She was definitely dressed for a party. Her long brown hair was twisted in large curls and she was wearing a black-slit dress with heels. Before he knew it she had her arms wrapped around him. Her personality was sometimes overpowering, but she always meant well.
"Ready to go?"
"Absolutely." Michael stepped inside her mustang convertible. He didn't care for the yellow color, but it definitely beat walking. The traffic was bad, as he expected it would be on New Year's Eve. As they rolled up to the Castello d'Acqua, Michael checked his phone; it was now 10:16 pm.
The Castello d'Acqua. As Michael entered the doors, he was greeted by the hotel's predominant theme : water. The large domed ceiling stood three stories tall, the entirety of the walls covered in carvings of sea creatures, waves, and ships. Two large fountains stood, one on either side of the rug that ran to the receptionist, each one depicting several dolphins spitting water about in various directions.
"It's on the 17th floor." Veronica pointed to a nearby elevator. "Take that elevator and go through the door straight ahead. I have to visit the bathroom and fix my hair."
"Alright. Thanks again, Sis. For the ride and the invite to the party."
"Yeah, yeah," she replied, waving her hand as she walked away.
As he walked towards the elevator, he saw a pamphlet about the hotel. 25-stories tall. The first floor was the lobby as well as gift shops. The second floor featured a large aquarium full of marine animals. The third floor was full of indoor pools. The fourth was a restaurant, continuing the theme with live sea creatures in various large aquariums about the building. The fifth floor had a bowling alley and a place for young children to play. The tenth floor contained an adult lounge, in which a picture next to it showed a woman in a mermaid suit sitting in a bowl of water.
The remaining floors were filled with guest rooms, with the top three floors used for only the most exclusive VIPs. While Michael considered visiting these places, he really wanted to get to the party.
Ding. The elevator door slid open. Michael walked through the double-doors in front of him and was greeted with the same sort of dance-mix he overheard on the phone. A live DJ stood on a raised platform in the middle of the room and played music as a large crowd of people danced around him. Nearby, there was also a bar set up, with a number of people standing and sitting around drinking and talking.
On one side of the room there was a crowd gathered around what appeared to be a cameraman and reporter. A number of drunk partying people were doing there best to get in a word, or a dance move, in front of the camera.
"Michael?"
He turned and saw a friendly face. "Eric! Hey, I didn't know you were going to be here."
"Same here. What are you doing here?"
"I'm here with Faatina. You know, that girl I told you about? She is over by the bar. Want to come hang out with us?"
As Michael listened, his eyes followed another familiar form. Carrie, one of his schoolmates. She was a voluptuous blond, full of curves. She was often talked about in school. Some thought her a tease, others claimed she was a whore. Regardless, she was definitely beautiful. She continued walking until she disappeared into the crowd of dancers.
"You coming?"
What will you do? A. Go with Eric to the bar B. Go dance, in hopes of finding Carrie C. Stick around the entrance and look for your sister, Veronica D. Go towards the crowd with the cameraman E. Other (specify what)
Michael Clifford Status: Normal Wearing: Striped Suit, Dress Shoes Inventory: Wallet (Driver's License, Family Photo, Key, $37), Cellphone
Time - 10:27 p.m., New Year's Eve
Sorry for the slowness. I promise, there will be zombies. This isn't just a Sims text-version with all the fun taken out. =)
|
|
|
Post by Veta on Jul 28, 2010 1:12:41 GMT -6
D. Also if possible, E:Start a fight.
|
|
|
Post by Tbone on Jul 28, 2010 10:23:31 GMT -6
D: Invite Eric and Faatina to dance while on the lookout for Carrie.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2010 19:09:18 GMT -6
I believe TBone meant E, so I will try to mix the E's in there a bit... "Actually, I was hoping to dance before I get so drunk I can't stand." Eric flashed a smile. "Sure, sure. Let me grab Faatina." A moment later, Eric reemerged. He was a tall, lanky pale man with red hair and freckles about his face to match. In stark contrast, Faatina was a very short Indian woman with dark skin and black hair. "Hello," she said, dropping her head shyly. "Well, let's get out there!" Eric said, his hand around Faatina, pushing her towards the dancing crowd. The trio went into the thick of the crowd. Michael danced with them, but his eyes continually wandered in search of Carrie. "I know she was here," he thought to himself. People continually backed into Michael, the dance floor being pushed to its limits. "Alright, alright. I said we would dance, but I need a drink, and then I will be right back. You guys want anything?" "No, I am fine," Faatina quietly replied. How do you reply?A. "No, I'm good. I will stay here with Faatina." B. "Sure, I'll just grab one."
As the night continued on, the three continued to enjoy themselves and dance. "Alright, alright, everyone check it out. Ten minutes until the New Year, make some nooiiiiise!" The DJ did his best to rile up the crowd as the big screen behind him displayed New York's Times Square. The crowd, many under the influence, became loud and busy. Michael was knocked about by people from all sides. His breathing became noticeably heavy. His mind reeled. "Am I having a panic attack? I was never claustrophobic." Thoughts flew through his mind, trying to stay calm and sort out the situation. His heart raced. He tried to get away from the situation, but ran into someone, nearly knocking them over. "What's your problem man?" With a weak motion, Michael tried to move the man out of his way. "No, he didn't mean anything." Eric did his best to settle the man down. Michael became light headed, falling into the man. "Oh, that's it!" With all his strength, the man swung wildly. He thought he had avoided the punch. He didn't feel any pain, but Michael collapsed onto the floor, his vision blurry. He could barely make out Eric's fist connecting to the man's face before everything was dark.
"What are we going to do?!" A faint voice penetrated through the ringing in his head. "I don't know, do we stake them?" A familiar voice. Eric? "That's vampires! I think you just blow their heads off." Another strange voice. "Who cares, let's just run!" A terrified scream and a woman's crying. "Michael? Michael?" "Is he-" "No, he is still out." Eric and - the voices were gone again. So was the ringing.
His eyes finally opened. The ringing was silent, replaced by moans, and then a scream. Michael bolted upright, his eyes darting around, taking in his new surroundings. The once full room was replaced by a smaller hotel room. He was laying on a queen-sized bed. Across from him, a large dresser and mirror. To the left, a large window and the city landscape. To the right, a door opened showing what looked to be the bathroom, as well as a door leading out. It was currently barricaded shut with a table and a second dresser. There were also a number of people, all looking towards the door. Eric sat with Faatina on end of the bed. Near the door, the cameraman and reporter he had seen earlier stood there, equipment still in hand. Towards the window stood the DJ. To his surprise, next to him sitting on the bed was his sister, Veronica. "Urp-" Another voice - or rather sound - from the bathroom. "Michael, are you ok!?" Veronica asked, hugging Michael. "Fine. I think. What is going on." Everyone turned, speaking at once. "Zombies!" "People starting biting people and then eating them!" "So many people went crazy! First one person, then later another. Then they began randomly killing each other!" "Zombies!?," Michael started, "How long have I been out?!" Eric glanced at his phone. "Well, it's 2:40 now." He paused. "Welcome to the new year." "2:40? I must have really been hit hard." "No man, that's the thing. You weren't hit at all. You began looking pale and sick and some dude started swinging. You must have been dehydrated or something." "Alright, I am glad you guys are getting reacquainted, but we really need to figure out what to do," the reported interrupted, apparently nearing his breaking point. "OK, OK. Well, let's brainstorm." Eric said. "We have been brainstorming for the past two hours! We have to do something!" "Fine, fine, let's just put our options out there, and take a vote. Fair enough?" The reporter was obviously annoyed. "Whatever, just- just go." "Maybe we should just wait here. Surely someone will come and help us." Faatina offered. The reporter burst out once again. "Yeah, right. How long will it take for people to get worried after everyone went out to some big New Year's party? You think those things won't get to us?" Eric defended her. "Hey man, there is no reason for that, she is just trying to help." "Alright, forget it." The cameraman spoke for the first time. "We can probably wait here for a while, anyway. The phone's keep giving us busy signals, but we don't know how widespread this is. Could be too many calls out there tying everything up. They might clear up soon." "Are you stupid?" Evidently the co-workers weren't necessarily friends. "We DON'T know how widespread it is. Maybe those towers are destroyed. If there are zombies all over the world, do you think they are really going to care about us?" From the bathroom, a woman in a low-cut red dress emerged, wiping the remains of vomit from her mouth. It was Carrie. Throwing her heels aside, her eyes met Michael's. "Hey, are you alright?" He nodded. After a long pause, she spoke again. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to die here. I say we try to fight our way out. Those -- things, whatever they are, don't seem that smart. I saw one of them - a security guard - with a gun on his side. He didn't even use it - he just kept biting people. We have four strong guys, right? Maybe we can make it..." Everyone sat there silently, still not sure exactly what to do. Finally Veronica spoke. "Well, what do you think we should do?" How do you respond?A. "We should wait, at least a while, and keep trying our phones." B. "Let's try to fight our way out of here and try to get to an elevator." (specify heading for roof or ground) C. "Let's try to fight our way out of here and find the stairs." (specify heading for roof or ground) D. "Maybe we can break the window and lower ourselves down floor by floor." E. "I don't know..." F. Other (specify choice) You may also select any of these choices...You have time for 3 options. Each person counts as 1. (ie, you can check on 3 people, check on 1 and ask about zombies from 1, or any other combination, or forfeit them)A. Check on... (specify who) B. Seek more information on the zombies from...(specify who) C. Search the room
|
|
|
Post by Veta on Jul 28, 2010 21:53:28 GMT -6
A.
E. "Let's break down the walls and create a sort of trap so we could thin the herd of zombies out and kill them off one by one. After that, we could barricade the floors below us and head for the roof, get a clear view of the situation."
Search room, ask about zombies from cameraman (He has teh video.), check on Carrie.
|
|
|
Post by Tbone on Jul 28, 2010 22:51:49 GMT -6
A: A: C, A (Check on Carrie), B (Ask the camera manabout the attack)
Somehow I don't think they'll be able to easily break through a hotel room wall, Veta. Plus what weapons do they have to fight with at the moment?
|
|
|
Post by Vandy on Jul 29, 2010 7:46:09 GMT -6
A; A; A (Carrie), B (Cameramen), C
|
|
|
Post by Veta on Jul 29, 2010 8:27:31 GMT -6
Woo! I knew asking about zombies from the cameraman is a good move! I even have a picture all ready for him. From now on, he shall be named Vincent von Valentine.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2010 20:23:01 GMT -6
A / A / A(Carrie),B(Cameraman),C wins! Also, definitely a nice call on the cameraman. Wasn't sure how blatantly obvious a choice it would be, but looks like you guys picked up on it easily enough. Sorry for the delay - had some power outage issues and messed things up."I think we should wait, at least for a while. There is no use running out there and just getting ourselves killed." Carrie sighed, and the reporter was visibly agitated. "Fine, we will try for a while longer, and nothing will happen! Then we will choose a better plan!" The cameraman simply shook his head, annoyed with his co-worker. Veronica began trying her phone once again as Michael got up and walked over to Carrie. "Are you alright?" "Um, yeah," she said, looking down. "I imagine what you saw was pretty... horrific. I'm sorry." She looked at him. "Yeah..." Crossing her arms, her eyes looking at nothing in particular as she recounted the scene in her mind. "Listen, if you need anything, just let me know, alright?" "Ok. Thanks, Michael."
Time passed slowly. The first few times someone tried the phone, Michael had hopes that it would work. Then it became something less likely. Finally, he just assumed nothing would get through. Finally, he decided to ask what he had been dreading since awakening. He was bound to see the carnage sooner or later, and better to know what to expect. "Hey, uh," Michael paused, standing before the cameraman. "Ron Sharp." "Michael Clifford. Listen, I can only imagine how crazy it was out there, but... did you happen to get anything on film?" "Sure. I've seen plenty of crazy things in my life. Granted, none as damn crazy as this, but I am trained to keep the camera rolling. I gotta tell you though - this is some pretty scary shit. People eating people, people trying desperately to escape - why would you want to see something like that anyway?" "Well, if we do need to escape, I'd rather not be seeing it for the first time and freezing up. Besides, it might give us some clue about what is going on or - I don't know." "Fair enough. Here let me get it set up for you." After several minutes of rewinding, Ron turned the camera so Michael could view it. It started off normal enough. People were dancing, screaming into the camera, telling their family or friends hi. Then someone in the corner of the shot. He looked pale and confused. The man began vomiting uncontrollably. Evidently the cameraman didn't notice, or just assumed it was a drunk, because the camera panned away. Minutes later, a scream. The camera turned quickly back to see a group of people running in fear, some tripping as they did. A fight was breaking out. "Are you getting this!?" The reporter's voice was audible. "Yes," Ron replied, "Now be quiet." "You bit my girlfriend!" Michael could barely make out the voice. The man took a swing and hit the attacker. He stood tall, thinking himself triumphant. But then someone who was laying on the floor stood up. Was it one of the people who fell? The figure moved towards the scene slowly. "Aagh!" He was bit in the neck hard, a spurt of blood visible as the man collapsed to the floor. His girlfriend screamed in terror, crying and unable to move. Soon another one of the 'zombies' in the crowd lurched forward, grabbing her and pinning her to the ground. It was at this point that the reporter's voice was heard once again. "Ok, ok, let's go. We have got to get out of here!" The camera bounced heavily as the duo were retreating from the room, a large crowd trying to escape as well. Many were brought down by the once-human creatures, the flesh torn from their bodies by teeth alone. Screams covered all other noises. "Go!! We have enough footage!" The camera's view moved from behind them to the front. The reporter's breathing was heavy and he began to slow down. "In there, follow them!" Eric was seen ahead carrying Michael, along with Faatina and Veronica in the front. The two ran into the room. "Shut the door!" "Wait!" Carrie's voice was heard. "Oh God, please no!" The reporter looked ready to slam the door, but the cameraman held it open. She ran inside and Ron closed the door quickly behind, bolting it shut and twisting the lock. "Ok, turn off the camera and save it for some real footage." "Damn, Bill, you can show a little more compassion," was the last remark before the footage cut off. Michael stood still for several minutes after watching it. These people definitely fit the word 'zombie.' They seemed completely out of it, moving towards their victim, and then violently tearing at their flesh. The fact they existed was enough to scramble anyone's mind. Michael wondered where they came from in the first place. The first man who bit someone didn't look injured himself - only sick. Michael wasn't completely sure. The only zombies he had seen were in video games and on television. "Yeah, it's hard to take. Don't worry - I'm sure help will come." The reporter laughed at the remark.
Michael didn't know what to do. There was no sense in trying his phone repeatedly while others were, but he couldn't just sit anymore. Finally, he got up and began searching the room. "What are you looking for? No one is here." As usual, the reporter had to chime in. Michael just ignored him. Even if no one was here now, they might have left something behind. The drawers were empty, the tables bare. Finally, while searching the bathroom, Michael found something. "Oxycontin," he said to himself. It appeared to be prescribed for someone named Alan White, and it was a rather strong prescription - 60 mg. There were three pills left in the bottle, which Michael pocketed. "Who knows, someone might be hurt bad enough to need them," he thought to himself. Walking from the bathroom, Michael could hear everyone talking. Eric was trying to console Faatina. Ron and Bill the reporter were discussing and arguing on what to do. Carrie and Veronica sat on the bed, trying to give each other hope that things would be ok. Then a loud scream of a woman, followed by pounding on the door. "People! I can hear you in there! Please, let me in!" Everyone looked at one another, scared. "Please, they are coming! I -," she paused, gasping for breath. "I can't run anymore. Please - my baby." Michael ran to the door, peering out through the peephole the best he could. A short woman with blond hair barely reaching past her ears, stood there with eyes full of tears and a very large belly. She had to be many months along. She looked hastily to her left and then back at the door. "Please, please, please," she continued, stopping as she choked on her tears. "Let her in!" Eric pleaded. "Wait, we might let those things in here! Who knows, she could already be infected!" The reporter screamed in fear. Then, something changed, his face becoming cold once more. His voice was in a whisper, his head close to yours. "We could tell her to run down the hall. It might lead those zombies away and give us a better chance to escape! Think about your life - and that of your friends! Is it worth throwing away for someone who might already be dead?" What will you do?A. Try to open the door quickly, shutting it behind her B. Tell her you are sorry, but you can't risk anyone else C. Try to trick her into running farther, possibly luring away the zombie mob D. Do nothing, leaving the decision to someone else E. Run into the hall, attempting to stave off any zombies nearby, until you are sure she is safely inside, then run inside F. Convince everyone now is the time to run and have everyone leave the room (and specify where you will run - elevator/stairs/other, up/down) G. Other Possible actions before carrying out above choice...Pick 0 to 1A. Try to snap off a leg from the table as a makeshift weapon (poor quality but takes little time)B. Try to break the mirror in the bathroom and wrap a large shard of glass in a sheet to use as a makeshift weapon (poor quality and takes more time)C. Punch Bill the Reporter (takes little time, may allow you to relieve some stress, but leaves Bill angry and with a punched face) Inventory & Group Info
Michael Clifford Status: Anxious Wearing: Striped Suit, Dress Shoes Inventory: Wallet (Driver's License, Family Photo, Key, $37), Cellphone
Others in group Veronica, sister Eric, friend Faatina, Eric's friend Carrie, the college peer Ron, the cameraman Bill, the reporter
|
|
|
Post by Tbone on Jul 31, 2010 21:12:26 GMT -6
G: Let the woman in and immediately barricade the door afterward with anything that isn't nailed down. Then inspect her for injuries if she'll comply. Finally after all that, punch Bill in the face for being a selfish douche.
I only vote this way because there was no description on how close the zombies were so I'll be assuming there are still a respectable distance down the hall.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2010 22:57:39 GMT -6
Same as Tbone I suppose. Though C is tempting....
|
|
|
Post by Veta on Aug 1, 2010 1:41:17 GMT -6
I second T, though I think that's close enough to Aanyways.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 3, 2010 2:05:50 GMT -6
Michael couldn't just sit back and let someone die who had a chance. Throwing the door open, he reached out and grabbed the woman by the arm, tugging on her to get her inside. He quickly slammed the door back, shoving the table back against the door. He could hear groaning beyond the door, gettign louder.
"More, more!"
Carrie looked puzzled momentarily. "What?"
"Get everything and shove it against the door!"
Everyone stood up and jumped into action. Eric and Ron slide the dresser across the floor and against the door. The others lifted the heavy matress as the new guest stood back and out of the way. The matress flopped against the dresser, Eric falling against it as he slid to the floor.
Dull thuds broke up the monotony of the groaning now and then. "Are you alright?" Michael asked the pregnant woman.
"Am I alright? These - things - just killed the two friends I came with. No, no I am not alright," she said, her eyes full of tears once again.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." He stopped, his sentence trailing off. "Listen, I know you have been through a lot, and I don't want to stress you out more than I have to, but, would it be alright if I checked you?"
"Checked me? Are you a doctor?"
"No, no. We don't even know what these things are exactly, but the best we can guess are zombies."
"Zombies? What the hell?"
"Yeah it is crazy, but what else do we call them? They are people who are trying to eat other people, and they seemed to have lost their minds. Anyway, I don't know if the stuff from the movies apply or not, but I was wanting to see if you got bit."
"Oh, no. I could become one of those!?"
"We don't know that for sure. Do you remember getting bit?"
"No, no. Just, just look please, and get it over with!" She pulled her arms close, terrified of the prospect.
Michael tried his best to console her. "Don't worry, I don't think you were bit, but let me look over you to be sure." He took his time and checked her over, being sure to look for any signs of blood or scratches. Besides a lot of sweat, she looked fine. "No, you weren't bit. It's ok."
"Thank God." She said, a hand on her chest.
"Don't be so cheerful. We are still all going to die, stuck in this damn hotel. What a way to go," Bill said indifferently.
Michael could take no more. The reporter had done nothing but complain, argue, and be an ass in general. He turned around quickly, an arm already in swing. This wasn't a fight, and there was no need to be fair; he just needed to teach him a lesson.
Wham!
The sound of several startled people. A small chuckle from Ron. Bill fell on his rear, his back hitting the now barren wall. He held a hand to his cheek, his lip busted and bleeding. As foolish as he seemed, even the reporter wasn't so dense as to not realize why he was hit. He stood up slowly, looking angrily at Michael, but saying nothing.
Time passed. The groaning continued. The group tried to talk, but it was difficult to speak of anything besides the zombies with the constant chorus of death coming just beyond the door. As more time passed, the groaning began getting louder.
Eric gave voice to the obvious. "There are more of them out there now."
Michael checked his cellphone. Nearly 5 AM. It was still dark out, but the sun would rise in a few hours. Regardless, the lights and power seemed to be working fine in the hotel. He glanced out the window and saw other buildings with electricity as well.
Veronica, sitting on the floor, buried her head in her arms."This sound is driving me crazy. What kind of hotel room doesn't have a telivision?"
"I think these rooms were just redone. Probably never had a chance to put them in yet," the cameraman chimed in.
"Great."
She stood up and walked over to Michael, who was leaning against the wall staring out the window. "Hey," she said just before yawning. "Sorry. Guess I shouldn't have stayed up so late the other night. Even with all this noise I think I could fall asleep."
How will Michael respond?
A. "Don't get too comfortable. I think it is time we made a break for it, before even more of those things pile up outside."
B. "Do you remember when..." (Talk about childhood memories in an attempt to keep her awake)
C. "Well, we are just waiting right now. Maybe you should get some sleep. I'll stay awake and watch over things."
D. "We all could use some sleep. Besides, there is nothing we can do right now." (Optional: Specify one or more people to keep watch)
E. Other
Optional if Michael Stays Awake: Choose 0-2
A. Talk to...(may choose multiple people, each taking a choice)
B. Moving as little as possible, climb through the barricade and peer out the peephole
C. Having seen the horror once, look through the video tape once again more thoroughly
D. Try to break the window out. It is still very early on New Year's Day. Many people are likely still asleep or hung over, and most businesses still are closed. There is a small chance someone will see it, as well as giving you a better view above and below your room.
E. Use your phone's app to play some music. It may put a bit more of a drain on the battery, but the music might help alleviate the stress caused by hearing the zombies moan
|
|
|
Post by Tbone on Aug 3, 2010 6:38:09 GMT -6
B, A: Carrie, B.
|
|
|
Post by Veta on Aug 3, 2010 10:47:37 GMT -6
B, A: Ron, Bill. And somehow combine the Bill thing with D.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2010 20:01:28 GMT -6
I don't know how this happened! What are the chances with the massive following that I had a split vote! :O Anyhow, I went with the very scientific method of rolling dice. Even/Odd method, and as it turned out TBone's post won (two separate rolls for each choice, but both won =P)
"Hey, do you remember when we were younger and we tried to stay up all night, two nights straight?" She laughed. "Yeah. I remember trying to cook chicken nuggets and we forgot about them. I'm surprised the house didn't burn down!" "Hah! You were so tired you were dropping them before they reached your mouth." The two continued talking for some time about memories. Michael caught Carrie smiling several times as they were reminiscing. "You okay?" "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks," Veronica said. Michael nodded. As the two stood silently, the pregnant woman came over, looking shyly at Veronica. She seemed to want to talk privately to her. "Oh, um. Veronica, I'll let you and ... sorry, I never did ask you your name." "Oh right," she said, laughing nervously. "I'm Emma." "Michael. Anyway..." he said, unsure of what exactly to say. In an awkward motion, he waved his hand a little and nodded his head, walking away. Ron and Bill were arguing, as usual, and Eric and Faatina sat close to one another, speaking now and then briefly to one another. Carrie, however, stood alone. Michael walked towards her. "Hey." "Hey." "How are you feeling?" "Still sick." She looked down. "I just can't get those images out of my head. Then these damn things won't shut up - it's a constant reminder what is waiting for us outside." Looking back at him, her voice sounded more desperate. "Do you really think we are going to make it?" "Of course we are." She didn't look so sure. "Hey, didn't you see that hook I threw? And earlier before I collapsed - even then I couldn't be touched." She laughed. Then, as if she had forgotten, she looked back at him with a serious look. "Why did you collapse anyway? Are you okay?" He paused, his brow furrowed. "I'm not really sure. My car broke down and I had to rush to get here, so Eric might have been right - it may have been dehydration. That and all the stress of the day and the bill I am going to have to pay to fix my car - it might just have been to much. I don't know really." She looked at him worriedly. "Just don't push yourself too hard, okay?" He smiled. "Sure, sure. Nothing to worry about - I feel fine now." Ron and Bill's arguing seemed to become heated. "We don't even know how many there are! This is crazy! We are going to die!" Bill was screaming, his words slurring together as his anger took over. "Settle down." "Settle down? YOU DON'T TELL ME-" "LOOK!" Michael interrupted. "I will look out the peephole and try to get an idea of what we are dealing with, alright?" Bill began to speak again, when Ron stopped him. "Just relax, man. Let him look before you go all crazy." Michael could hear them start to argue again, but he ignored it, moving towards the barricaded door. He didn't hear any pounding on the door, so he carefully began to remove things in his way. First, he slid the mattress to the side. Then, the dresser. The table was easy enough to avoid, so he left it there. Peering through the hole, Michael saw the creatures. Though little time had passed, already they looked more lime monsters than people. Their bodies were pale, a stark contrast to the crimson blood that covered their hands and faces. Their mouths hung open, the dreadful moan ever present. Their eyes were glazed over, seemingly looking at nothing. They wanted inside the room. Whether they were simply waiting outside or unable to open the door, he wasn't sure. "How bad is it?" Carrie's voice was close. "Well," he paused, counting their numbers. "I can't see very far, but it looks like only about seven of them. There are a couple right near the hole, though, so there could be a few more, and I can't see down the halls." "Seven? That doesn't sound too bad I guess..." Carrie said, trying to make the situation a little less frightful. "Ah!" A scream from behind. "Watch out! He is one of them!" Ron's voice. "Holy shit!" Eric exclaimed. The scream in unison of several women. Michael turned around quickly. Carrie was right in front of him. Emma and Veronica were against the window. Eric and Faatina couldn't be seen around the wall. Ron was holding his shoulder, blood pouring from it as he pointed at Bill; Bill who now had the same blood-crazed look as the attackers from the film. He was charging towards Michael and Carrie. What will you do?May choose as many as applicable. Ex., you could shove Carrie in the bathroom and fight Bill, but not run past Bill and hide in the bathroom. I guess you could, but it wouldn't make much sense.=PA. Shove Carrie into the bathroom B. Grab Carrie's hand and run (where) B. Hide in the bathroom C. Run outside the hotel room D. Attempt to fight Bill E. Try to run past Bill and into the area where the others are F. Other
In case I didn't explain the room well, here is the basic setup. img835.imageshack.us/img835/88/hotelroom.jpg
|
|
|
Post by Tbone on Aug 6, 2010 21:43:20 GMT -6
A, F (I'm going to outline a battle plan you might take into consideration): The picture suggests there is a decent amount of distance between Mike and Bill so I say Mike should dropkick ZomBill, staggering the zombie momentarily,
F: Request help from Eric &/or Faantina from behind, they could possibly attack while the zombie is staggered from the kick.
|
|
|
Post by Veta on Aug 7, 2010 0:18:49 GMT -6
Um. Same as T.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2010 12:05:58 GMT -6
Michael's adrenaline began flowing, his mind taking a backseat to his instincts. In hopes of protecting Carrie, he shoved her into the bathroom. "Close the door!" he yelled.
The now turned reporter continued forward, unflinching. Michael wanted to stop him. The group was trapped in a small room - he had to stop him. Still, he wasn't sure how tough it would be. He was a coward in life, but now?
It didn't matter. He wouldn't just lay down and die. His face changed from one of fear to one of determination. From a walk to a full-out charge. Wanting to minimize chances of getting bitten, Michael leaped into the air, feet out. Though Michael himself fell to the floor, he connected solidly with the zombie, sending it flying backwards, skidding across the floor and back into the main portion of the room. Jumping back to his feet he ran forward, the creature already beginning to stand up.
"A little help!"
Snapping out of it, Eric ran over and grabbed Bill from behind, securing his arms. "Get him!"
Michael began punching furiously. Swing after swing connected, the groaning stopping only momentarily between each hit. "Why won't it die!?"
"I don't know!"
"Hey," Ron said, still holding his shoulder. "In the movies you have to kill their brain."
"But aren't they already dead?" Eric puzzled.
"Listen, I don't have a degree in zombies, I just know they shoot them in the head or smash them or something." He paused, looking around. "Here."
"Eric, keep a tight hold on that thing!" Michael shouted, seeing Eric distracted.
"Right, I got him!"
Ron came clambering forward, grunting. Eric's eyes widened. "What are you going to do with that!?"
"Hold him down, boys. It's not the most practical, but it will work." Michael glanced over his shoulder and saw the cameraman lifting the table up above his head. "Go on now, pin him to the ground, each of you on one side. Watch his teeth!"
Michael didn't know what to do besides comply. He grabbed hold of one arm and sat on it's leg, Eric doing similarly to hold the opposite side.
With a powerful thrust, Ron slammed the table downward onto his late colleague. The table hit at the lower jaw, a disgusting crunch as the jaw was dislocated, as well as more than a couple teeth. Blood flowed from its face. Before Michael or Eric could say anything, Ron lifted the table, slamming it down once again. With a disgusting crack, Ron's face folded inwards towards the point of impact. Parts of broken bone and skull matter were exposed, a crushed mess.
Faatina gagged, then vomited in the corner, Veronica tending to her. Ron dropped the table, Bill moving no more. "Well, I guess that works on these things, too." Blood ran down the cameraman's chest and leg, dripping on the floor.
"We had better get you patched up," Michael said, the immediate danger avoided. Carrie crept out slowly from bathroom. "Is it safe now? Urp - oh, God." She nearly lost it, seeing the crushed corpse, but she managed to keep it together.
"Yeah, but," Eric started, stammering as he tried to put his thoughts to words.
"What is it?"
Ron shook his head. "No need to try and be diplomatic. I've been bit. So far these things follow all the same rules that we know about zombies. Getting bit means I am going to change into one of 'em."
Michael paused. It made sense, but with everything going on, it never crossed his mind. "Hey, we don't know that for sure," Veronica said, moving from Faatina. "For all we know that bite could be bandaged up and you will be as good as new."
"Maybe," Ron said, shaking his head once again. "But maybe not. Besides not wanting to be the one responsible for killing you all, I really don't care for the thought of becoming one of those creatures. So... I guess this is it."
"What? What are you going to do?" Veronica asked, though she didn't truly want to hear it.
"Well... I can't say I spent much time thinking about anything like this. Still, I'd prefer it be quick and maybe some help to you guys." He walked over, peering out the window. "I'd say the fall would certainly kill me. Who knows, someone might even see me and get the police."
"No - you can't. Come on, Michael. Talk some sense into him."
Michael walked past his sister and closer to Ron.
What will Michael do? A. Say he understands Ron and agree to let him leap to his death B. Ask him to consider being a decoy, running down the hall, so the others might escape C. Try to force him into the bathroom, moving the barricade from the main door to the bathroom door to keep him inside D. Refuse to allow him to jump, attempting to block the window with your body E. Other
|
|
|
Post by Tbone on Aug 8, 2010 12:24:04 GMT -6
The whole police issue seems like a bit of a stretch so I'm going to have go with B.....
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2010 20:14:48 GMT -6
B, it's the most logical selection.
|
|
|
Post by Veta on Aug 8, 2010 22:41:12 GMT -6
B.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 11, 2010 18:33:06 GMT -6
"Listen, I don't think throwing yourself out of a window is going to help anyone."
"Well what do you want me to do? Just sit around until I change and have you guys off me? That is, if I don't end up infecting you."
Michael paused for a long while. "Well you -" he stopped.
"What is it, kid? Listen, you seem like a nice guy, but we don't have time to make our words pretty here. This ain't no speech. What's on your mind?"
With a sigh, Michael continued. "We don't know how long it will be before help comes - if it even does. By then something could happen to us. We know there are a handful of the creatures outside the door right now. If you could lead them away, maybe-"
The cameraman interrupted him. "I see. Let them chase me and it might give you all a chance." Michael looked as if he were going to try and say something, but Ron shook his head in dismissal. "No, no. It makes sense. Besides, Bill seemed to be out of it when he went nuts, so maybe you don't even realize it happens. No sense in sitting here thinking about that anyway. We need to get these people out of here become a liability."
Ron turned, still clutching his wound, and spoke loudly to get everyone's attention. "Alright everyone, listen up. We aren't going to sit around here any longer. I'm going to charge out that door and head left and lead those sons of bitches away from here, but you all have to be ready to move."
"What? How are you going to get away from them?" Veronica asked, though not from naivety, but out of fear from the truth that she already knew.
"You let me worry about that. You just get to those stairs and get going."
Eric looked puzzled. "What about the elevator?"
"Well, you are free to try it if you want, but don't expect these things to sit around and wait for it to arrive."
Ron began coughing, wincing in pain as he did his best to hold his shoulder and cover his mouth at the same time. Everyone backed away. "Alright, let's go before we change our minds."
Moving what remained of the barricade to the side, he looked into the peephole, then put one hand on the doorknob, the other on the lock. "I'll see you on the other side, Bill," he whispered to himself before letting out a war cry. "Raaah!"
The door flew open, the cameraman charging out, slamming one of the creatures against the wall before he turned and headed left. The war cry didn't seem to bother the zombies, but it certainly startled the group still standing inside the hotel room. Michael snapped out of it quickly, slamming the door shut once again. He peered through the peephole to see if the plan had worked. It did. All but two of the creatures in view of the room had left, chasing after Ron. Once the door was closed, the remaining stragglers also left, giving a slow but steady pursuit.
"Ok, go!" Michael blurted out as he threw the door back open, slamming it against the wall. The group followed behind him as he sprinted down the hall. Familiar doors soon came into view on the left side of the hall. The same double doors that seemed so important to Michael just hours before. The doors that led to a party he desperately wanted to get to. He wished now he had never made it. To think, the caring old farmer that gave him a ride home was one of the main reasons he was in this mess.
His mind was focused once again as he saw Eric passing him. "Shit!" his friend exclaimed, his eyes wide as he, too, looked at the double doors ahead. Michael could see the cause of his fear. Inside the dance hall, several of the creatures had seen the troupe and were slowly making their way towards them. Eric pushed himself harder and began increasing the distance between himself and the group. He reached the elevator and slammed the button repeatedly. Despite the advice of the cameraman, Eric still had to try.
Ding!
The elevator doors slid open. Eric's face lit up, his grin a mark of victory. "Come on, guys!" he coached.
Something stirred in Michael. There was still hope. Then, a scream in the distance. "Ron." Michael stopped and turned. As Veronica, Faatina, and Carrie passed him, he knew there was nothing he could do. While he couldn't see Ron from this distance, he did see another problem. Emma, the pregnant woman, was falling dangerously behind. "Wait," she yelled between deep breaths, "I'm coming!"
"Michael! Hurry!" His head whipping around once again, he could see Eric, Veronica, and Faatina doing their best to hold the double doors closed against the weight of the creatures inside, but it looked like they were fighting a losing battle. A couple zombies, previously unseen, were now also coming down the hallway beyond the elevator, effectively surrounding the group.
"C'mon, Mike!" Carrie pleaded as she stood, keeping the elevator door open.
What will Michael do?
A. Make a run for the elevator, leaving Emma to fend for herself. B. Tell them to go on without you and stay behind to try and save Emma C. Tell them to wait, risking all their lives, as you try to save Emma D. Other
Although this one is pretty straight forward, if you ever need clarification on anything let me know. Wrote this in a hurry as I have to run, but wanted to get a post up. Storms around here knocked the cable out for a while so didn't get a chance to update for a bit. =\
|
|
|
Post by Veta on Aug 11, 2010 20:56:01 GMT -6
B. It's about time you grew some balls and learn to fight zombies.
|
|