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Post by Mercury (HG) on Aug 12, 2010 1:01:50 GMT -6
B. WHAT VETA SAID.
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Post by Tbone on Aug 12, 2010 16:52:14 GMT -6
B even though I disagree with Veta's comment of growing a pair and fighting. He already dropkicked a zombie with little to no maneuvering room. >.> I'd say that's pretty brave.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 15, 2010 10:49:57 GMT -6
Frustrated, Michael looked back and forth. Deep inside, a part of him just wanted to run - to escape this horror. Still, he didn't think he was the kind of person that could live with himself if he just left someone to die - especially a pregnant woman. "Go! Just go!"
"What!? Those things will kill you!" Carrie said. She seemed to be struggling with herself as well. The entire situation didn't seem to have a good choice.
Eric moved forward, ready to possibly give up his own life to help his friend. "No, Eric. You make sure the others get out of here. Now go!" Eric didn't want to leave, but he felt he had to. The elevator doors slid close, Michael's hope of a quick exit forever gone.
His attention quickly returned to Emma. She was doing her best to continue forward, though she nearly stumbled over herself in the attempt. Michael looked frantically around for anything to use as a weapon, but there was little near him that wasn't on the other side of a group of zombies. Seeing no other alternatives, he decided to grab the trashcan sitting next to the elevator. It was a large, hexagon-shaped trashcan. Lifting it, Michael guessed it weighed about twenty pounds. While it might seem like a ridiculous weapon any other time, given the situation, he would take what he could get.
He ran past Emma, the creatures closest to her coming from behind. Several of the creatures looked different. There skin were discolored, various hues of blue and purple. Their eyes were more sunk in, some of them with obvious hair loss, and they gave out a putrid odor. They seemed to be decomposing, but how was it happening so quickly? Or could more of them existed earlier than tonight? Michael didn't give it much thought as he slammed the trashcan into the closest zombie's face.
With a disturbing crunch, the undead stumbled backward, making a few futile movements to steady itself before landing on its back. Its face was easily smashed against the force of the rubbish bin, though it still squirmed around on the ground. The creature seemed much easier to dispatch than the recently deceased reporter. This gave Michael new confidence.
"Gah-rah!" Michael grunted as he lifted the trash can for another attack. As awkward of a time it was for reminiscing, Michael couldn't help but remember taking karate as a youth. He didn't know much about it, but the movies had made it seem like anyone who knew it would attain almost heroic status, and he desired that. Besides that, he always enjoyed the 'karate grunts', as he called them initially. As he swung again to the side, slamming one zombie into another, he wished he had stayed at the dojo and trained for more than a week.
Emma did her best to speak through tears, utter desperation taking over. "Oh God, they are coming this way to! What are we going to do!"
Michael looked over his shoulder and saw the cluster of creatures getting much closer now. With a final heave, he chucked the trash barrel into the mass, then ran beyond the pregnant woman and to the stairwell door. He swung it open, then pushed hard against it, slamming it into the closest creature. "Come on!"
"But I can't!" she pleaded.
"You have to! For your baby! Come on!"
With that, she pushed herself to continue onward. Michael held the door as she ran into the stairwell and then he pulled it as hard as he could. Unfortunately, it did not close. One of the zombie's arms reached in, swiping wildly in hopes of catching its next victim.
"Michael!" He turned at the scream and saw the woman pointing up. Looking in the direction, he could see more of the once-human monsters coming down the stairs towards them.
"Damn. Run!" Michael decided to give the zombies the door, stepping away, allowing them to flood the stairwell. Emma continued down the steps, though at a slower rate than he would have liked. No weapon in hand, Michael shoved hard, careful not to push too hard and risk falling forward into the horde. A couple of the beasts stumbled backwards, causing several more to tumble over them. Still, it wasn't much help.
"Look!" Emma said, a sound of delight in her voice.
Michael fell back, running down the stairs towards her. It was a dead hotel security guard. In his hands was a pistol. "Another passing interest that I never put much effort into," he thought. He wasn't sure on the kind of gun or anything about it, but it had a trigger and that was good enough. Emma seemed overly joyed that they had a weapon, but he was quick to bring her back to reality. "I don't know how much ammo we have, but this isn't going to stop them. Keep going!"
Her face contorted to one of sadness as she continued down the stairs, huffing and breathing hard as she went, hands resting on her unborn child's sanctuary. "We will be alright," she whispered to it, continuing down.
Michael followed behind her, the weapon drawn as he wondered which target to pick with an unknown number of bullets in tow. Many of the zombies fell down as they attempted to descend the stairs, collapsing in a pile on the landing below before standing up and attempting the next set of stairs. This made them much slower, but also a bit more unpredictable as some still seemed to be able to maneuver the stairs with relative ease. Still, this allowed the duo to continue downwards at a slower, more deliberate pace (which pleased Emma greatly) for quite some time without incident. Michael glanced at the numbers next to each door as they advanced.
14. 13. 12. 11.
"Miiichaeeel!" Her voice started as a worried call, but quickly turned into a squeal for help.
Taking his eyes away from the tumbling attackers, he could see more, albeit somewhat expected, trouble coming from below. It seemed a large mass of the the zombies were coming from the stairwell in the floor below. They all seemed to be dressed up as well; maybe another party? Moving in front of Emma, Michael whipped the pistol up and took aim, firing off two rounds in quick succession at the mass. It was more from panic and the newly acquired weapon, but the two bullets slammed into one of the creatures, which disappeared quickly in the sea of bodies. The gun's kick wasn't anything Michael couldn't handle, though the loud echo of the firearm did surprise him. He turned back to Emma and opened the exit door.
"Go on. There has to be more stairs in a place this big, or another elevator we can catch." She nodded as she hustled out of the door, Michael following directly behind her.
He exited the stairwell and quickly took a look around. The hallway looked like a war zone. A vending machine nearby was knocked over on its side. Lights flickered on and off throughout. Bodies lay scattered across the immediate area, but something was different. They weren't bit or torn, but shot.
BOOM!
Michael and Emma both ducked down from the loud sound, a chunk of wooden trimming flying apart above them. "I'll kill every damn one of you if I have to!" The two looked towards the voice and saw a strange man standing there just outside of a room several doors down the hall. He had tattoos covering one arm, his hair a sweaty, coal-black mess, his facial features twitching. In one hand was a revolver, the end of it smoking from the recent shot. In the other hand, a knife.
What will Michael do? A. Begin returning fire immediately B. Try to speak with the man (if it fails: return fire, retreat, or other) C. Attempt to run away with Emma immediately D. Attempt to give covering fire to aid in Emma's escape, then follow after E. Other
Optional actions... A. Get behind the vending machine B. Take cover in the stairwell, risking zombie attacks C. Retreat to the closest room, hoping it is unlocked
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Post by Deleted on Aug 16, 2010 19:29:34 GMT -6
Michael Clifford
Status: Fearful/Surprised, wishing he had stuck with Karate and learned more about firearms
Wearing: Striped Suit, Dress Shoes
Inventory: Wallet (Driver's License, Family Photo, Key, $37), Cellphone, Pistol (Unknown Type/Ammo count)
Following: Emma, a pregnant woman
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Post by Tbone on Aug 16, 2010 21:23:35 GMT -6
B: Attempt to speak with the man, A; D if B fails.
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Post by Veta on Aug 16, 2010 22:45:36 GMT -6
B, retreat if fails. A.
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Post by Mercury (HG) on Aug 17, 2010 1:05:42 GMT -6
B n' A
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Post by Deleted on Aug 18, 2010 19:38:15 GMT -6
Michael grabbed Emma's hand, guiding her behind the vending machine as he took cover from the man. "Listen, we are still alive! We aren't monsters!"
"Oh yeah? That's what my mates said. We were just looking to score something to celebrate the New Year with. All of a sudden the dance party went to hell and people started killing each other. At first I thought I was just fucked up from the crack I had in the bathroom - but my pals saw it too."
His gun laid against his head as he sorted the thoughts inside his head. "We tried to get out of there fast, but the elevators were too full, it freaked me out, so we just took the stairs. We stuck the gun in some guy's face and made him give us his room key. That's when I noticed Paul was bit. He said he was fine, but... but then he lunged on top of Simon and tore his neck out with his bare teeth. Then he came after me."
Tears began to form in his eyes, the loss of his friends too much to bear. Emma saw it as a chance to connect to the man. "The party up on the 17th floor?" she asked.
"Yeah, yeah! You were there, too?"
"Yes, we were. Why don't you come with us and try to get out of here?"
The man began laughing. It was the kind of laugh that only came about when someone was completely drained; when they couldn't cry, couldn't speak, but could only laugh. Then, a moment of silence as his face twisted back into one of anger. "I lost both my friends to those things. I won't risk you turning into one and getting me!"
"Wait!" Michael interjected. "We don't have to travel together - just let us go our separate ways."
"And risk running into you later, when your mind is lost? I think not." He raised the revolver, and the two knew there was no reasoning with him.
"Run!" Michael yelled, at the same time rising from behind the vending machine with the pistol in hand. He didn't actually fire at the man, but it was enough to scare him off. The man slinked away, taking cover in the room nearby. Emma stood up, running with her head down as she did her best to get away.
"We don't want to hurt you! Just leave us alone!" Michael could see the man's gun creeping out from the door, so he shot a warning shot down the hall. "Just stay there!" Michael yelled as he stood up, following quickly behind Emma.
"I won't let you escape! I'll kill you! You'll see!" The voice grew more distant as the pair rounded the corner of the hallway.
"Where are we going?"
Michael wasn't really sure. His eyes kept scanning each door, but they were all simply room numbers. He didn't really want to be trapped inside if the man was indeed following them. Then, something different.
Adults Only: Must be 21 to enter. Please have ID ready.
Michael grabbed Emma's hand and pulled her with him, pushing open the heavy, metal door. He quickly scanned the room. It was a waiting room into the club that no doubt rested beyond the fancy wooden door on the right side of the room. Velvet rope was draped about, creating a twisting line that led to the door. Beyond that, the room was empty.
"Come on." The two walked through the door and were presented with a set of stairs that followed the door, flaring out at the bottom into a lounge below. Small round tables were scattered across the floor, burnt-out candles and partially consumed drinks on each. A dim light bathed the room.
At the back of the room, a large bar covered the entire wall. Opposite it, at the front of the two-story room, an enormous curtain was drawn closed, hiding all but the very end of a wooden stage. On either side were identical staircases leading up to identical fancy wooden doors. Beneath the stairs on the wall were double-doors with a glowing EXIT sign above them.
Most stunning, however, was the large centerpiece of the room. Carved from stone, a mermaid lay amongst several large rocks. A waterfall poured over the tallest, falling into a small pond below.
Emma looked around the large room as she caught her breath. "What a big place. I guess we are on the tenth floor now, at least."
Then a noise. It sounded like a woman's whimpering beyond the closed curtain. As the two looked at one another, another sound. The faint sound of crashing glass could be heard beyond the double-doors across the room. Emma looked at Michael, biting her lip, looking towards him for guidance.
What will Michael do?
A. Investigate the curtain, calling out in warning ahead of time B. Investigate the curtain, attempting to quietly sneak around C. Investigate the sound of broken glass beyond the far double-doors D. With all the recent danger, it is safer to avoid things. Attempt to sneak out the closest set of double-doors E. Take cover and wait behind the bar, taking time to check the pistol more thoroughly (current ammo/make/etc) F. Other
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Post by Tbone on Aug 21, 2010 10:59:21 GMT -6
B, err on the side of caution for now.
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Post by Veta on Aug 21, 2010 11:24:32 GMT -6
B.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2010 12:55:31 GMT -6
Why not A? And please don't let this be a Left 4 Dead witch-style hostile, I've seen them used too many times in much the same fashion as this, and it's getting quite tiresome. Thank you for your time.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2010 18:56:08 GMT -6
Don't worry Bastioncon, (spoiler alert) no witch here. =P That doesn't mean other parts haven't/won't 'steal' ideas from this or that - because honestly, you can draw one thing from another regardless of the idea, especially in zombie stories. You can either change it up somewhat, where things are likely to feel similar, or change it radically, where it might feel out of place. Not sure how this one is going, but hopefully the story is at least, in some tiny way, enjoyable... we will see.
Anyhow, I don't have time for a big reply tonight, so that will have to wait until tomorrow afternoon, so if anyone wants to change they can. I gotta run watch some homecoming fireworks and the like. Otherwise, as usual, I will go with majority rules, in case of a tie a simple die roll.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2010 13:03:52 GMT -6
"Stay behind me and keep an eye out - I'm going to see if it is another survivor." He pointed at the curtain and Emma nodded. The two crept slowly forward. Michael only hoped it wasn't another person driven insane by the carnage.
Peering slowly from the edge of the corner, Michael could now see the stage in its entirety. On the back wall was a grand aquarium. Inside of it, a large archway of stone was made and large artificial coral gave an eerie glow. Various kinds of vibrant salt-water fish swam throughout, creating a beautiful spectacle.
It was the center of the stage, however, from which the whimpering was coming. Several corpses lay on the floor, or rather what remained. They were but a mangled mess of what was once human - organs torn from their insides, necks with gaping holes, and flesh torn apart. Amidst all the carnage was a large glass container of water. In it were over-sized decorations seen in plenty of family fish bowls - a diver blowing bubbles, a ruined castle, and tall artificial seaweed. Still partially submerged in the water was a tall, tanned, buxom red-head, still donning her uniform comprised of a seashell bikini and mermaid-tail wetsuit. She cried quietly, her eyes purposely looking up to avoid the terror below as her pruned hands grasped the lip of the bowl.
Michael studied her for a moment. He wasn't sure how to best approach the situation. She seemed to need help, and the corpses surrounding her didn't stir. "Stay here," he said in a hushed voice close to Emma. Reaching down and taking her hand, he put the gun in it. He didn't want to spook the mermaid, and didn't want to leave Emma defenseless should something sneak up on them. He gave her a smile and slowly walked out into the open from around the curtain.
"Miss," he started. She screamed, as if she were already being attacked, turning and thrashing in the water. "It's ok! It's alright! I'm not going to hurt you!"
Her tearful screams of terror quickly halted, replaced with a face of hope. A real person, not one of the creatures. "Oh help me, help me, please!"
"I will, don't worry. I'll get you out of there."
The sound of a door slamming, and a gunshot. A hole tore through the curtain and slammed into the stage, sending out wooden splinters across the room. Emma screamed. "I found you! You won't be getting away this time!" It seemed as if the insane man had caught up to them.
What will Michael do? A. Personally help the mermaid out of her bowl, leaving Emma to fend off the man with the gun B. Run out and take the gun from Emma, telling her to help the girl, while he fights the man C. Grab and carry the mermaid, shouting for Emma to run for it (where?) D. Run and try to escape with Emma, leaving the mermaid (run where?) E. Other
A little shorter than I thought, but I wanted you to be able to choose what to do here...
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Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Aug 22, 2010 14:06:38 GMT -6
B at least until I can, hopefully, think of a better plan...
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2010 16:46:34 GMT -6
B as well
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2010 19:43:00 GMT -6
"Emma!" Michael ran out, his arm around her shoulder, pulling her behind the curtain. "Help her out of there," he said as he fumbled about, taking the gun from her. "I'll hold him off."
"Where are we going to go?!" Emma cried.
"There are dressing rooms behind the stage. There is also another exit that way, so we can get out of here."
Michael nodded. Another shot whizzed by, not even close to the group. Still, Michael nearly fell over from the sound of the bullet crashing into the aquarium behind him. A torrent of broken glass and helpless fish poured out, spilling onto the stage floor. With a deep breath, Michael came out from the curtain, his pistol at the ready.
"Ah, there you are. I wondered when you would come out."
"Well, I'm here. Now what."
"I told you I would kill you, didn't I?" He smirked, looking over his revolver matter-of-factly. His eyes showed determination as he stared back at Michael. "And that is what I am going to do."
"Are you so sure? What if I kill you?" Michael doubted it would deter the man, but anything he could do to buy time for Emma and the performer was a win in his eyes.
"So what? Have you looked around lately? Everyone is dead or getting there. It has been hours and no sign of help from the outside. We are all dead. If I die in a gunfight, so be it. At least I'll die stopping the spread of this... disease."
"We don't know anything about this - this stuff going on. Maybe we are immune or something. Why kill others or throw your life away without knowing anything about what is going on?"
"You're right, you're right." Michael flinched at the remark. Had he actually made some progress with the man? "We don't know anything about this. So why risk letting it spread?"
"But-" Michael started, but was cut off immediately by the man. The man grabbed his head, as if trying to fight off any logical thought or ideas that what he was doing was wrong. "Enough talk!" he screamed, whipping the revolver up and taking aim.
CRACK!
A loud smashing sound from inside the lounge. At first Michael thought it was a shot, and he ducked down, ready to return fire. Then he noticed the man's face turned, looking towards the lower exit where the sound of glass crashing had been heard earlier. Michael nervously looked across the room and was relieved with what he saw.
Two men stood in the doorway, each wearing body armor with the letters SWAT written across them. Though they were covered in blood, each looked in fine health. The man in front was crouched down to one knee, a pistol firmly in hand. He looked athletic with small bits of brown hair showing around the edges of his helmet. Behind him stood a tall, muscular man wielding a shotgun. Both were aimed at the revolver-toting lunatic.
"Oh you found me! Thank goodness, this man was trying to kill me!" he said, pointing at Michael.
Their attention turned away, the man with the shotgun turning his sights quickly on Michael. "No, no!" Michael said, stretching his hands out and laying the pistol on the floor.
In the commotion, the jabbering psychopath lifted his revolver up and fired. The shot flew through the air, flying above the kneeling SWAT member's helmet. It continued on, piercing through his partner's exposed side, driving its way under his arm and out the other side, destroying everything between. He fell over, immediately lifeless.
The other member of SWAT didn't hesitate. Before his companion had even hit the floor he fired off three shots, each hitting their mark. The sweaty, awkward looking man, fell to the ground, coughing up blood. "Lucas? Oh God, not you, too. Lucas!"
Michael wasn't sure what to do, but his thoughts were quickly cast aside as the officer stood up pointing his pistol back towards him. "Who are you?"
"What?"
"I said who are you!" he barked again.
"Michael. My name is Michael Clifford."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm just trying to get out! I was here for a party, and,"
"Michael?"
"Hey, who is that!?"
"It's ok." He turned, looking back. "It's alright, come on out." Emma emerged from the curtain, followed closely by the red-haired woman, now free of her mermaid-tail, wearing a bikini bottom. "She was at the party as well, and she worked here."
"Alright." The man seemed to ease up, holstering his pistol. He reached down, whispering something to his deceased comrade. Picking up the shotgun, he walked closer to the group. "The name is Owen Baker. We were sent to rescue any survivors."
"Help is coming?" the woman asked, still dripping wet. "We are saved?"
"I am the help. Reports like this broke out all over the city and we don't have enough manpower for it. We finally reached this location. We landed on the roof and proceeded down in search of survivors. I lost nearly the entire team on twelve, and now..."
"So - there isn't anyone else?"
"No. There is no point in staying here any longer. We need to reach the roof and fly out of here."
Michael thought about the situation. They finally had help, and someone with some actual firepower. If the helicopter was there, they could escape. But what if the pilot was killed, or escaped in fear? Besides that, he had sent his friends and sister down an elevator. Could he simply leave them and hope for the best?
Owen snapped his fingers in front of Michael. "Hey, wake up. We need to move, now."
What will Michael do?
A. Agree with Owen and follow his lead B. Discuss your situation in hopes that he will instead work to the ground floor to find your friends (if he won't, will you go without him or follow him up?) C. Tell him to go on, but you are not coming (optional: send Emma/mermaid with him) D. Other
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Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Aug 23, 2010 19:55:49 GMT -6
B, if he doesn't oblige, search for them without him; possibly even convincing the mermaid performer to accompany Michael, Emma should go with Owen seeing as her pregnancy may just end up slowing them down later on.
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Post by Veta on Aug 23, 2010 20:37:54 GMT -6
B. If he disagrees, go by yourself but leave Emma with SWAT guy.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2010 20:39:07 GMT -6
B with the same contingency as Tbone.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 25, 2010 13:11:20 GMT -6
"Well you had better make sure that's what you really want to do. I'm heading up and getting out of here, and there isn't likely going to be anyone else coming for you. You head down, you go alone. I lost my entire team and it just isn't a feasible choice." "I understand." "What?" Emma interjected. "You can't go there alone! I'm coming with you!" "Please, you have to think about your baby. This is your chance to get out of here." Michael smiled, trying his best to comfort her. "I'll be fine." She wanted to help, but knew in her condition she was more of a liability than anything. Besides that, what he said was true - she would do anything to save her baby, and she couldn't pass up this opportunity. "Please, be careful." She hugged him tightly before stepping away, looking at the ground. He turned to the once-mermaid, now woman. He contemplated how to ask her if she might want to join him. He felt guilty trying to pull her away, but also could definitely use some help. "Um," he paused. "I never did catch your name." "Michelle. I can't thank you enough for helping me out back there, hon, but I think I will follow the man with the big gun and get the hell out of here." She smiled at him, though a sad look in her eyes betrayed her true thoughts. She had already accepted in her mind Michael's terrible fate. Still, Michael couldn't bring himself to drag her along, especially given the current situation. "I hope you find your friends. Oh! Listen, go back into the dressing room. There should be a big jacket hanging on a hook. There are some keys in the pocket used for a special elevator down the hall, through the door back there. They use it to move the fish around. I think it only stops on this floor, as well as the fourth and first. Maybe you can use it." "Yeah, that will definitely help, thanks." With such a seemingly easy way down, Michael hoped Owen would change his mind, but after checking his weapons he rallied the others to continue upward. "Let's go, that chopper won't wait forever." Emma hugged Michael tightly again and Michelle waved before walking into the distance with Owen. Soon, they were through the doors and out of sight. Michael walked over the corpse of the revolver-wielding maniac. Reaching down, he picked up the high-powered gun. "I might as well see what I have to work with here," he thought. Checking the cylinder, he saw that there were only two bullets in it. It didn't seem like the man had any extra ammo. Taking his own gun in hand, he scanned its surface. Austria and the word Glock were written on it. With a bit of fumbling he removed the magazine, taking out the bullets. "Eight, nine, ten, eleven." Eleven shots remained in the glock. Taking a deep breath, Michael disappeared behind the curtains. There, he saw a pool of water and a ladder near the bowl. Evidently Emma brought it over so Michelle could climb out. A few fish still flopped on the ground. Although it was a stressful situation full of danger, without thinking Michael took the time to grab the fish up and throw them into the fish bowl before going through the backstage door and into the dressing room.
The back room was actually a lot like he had imagined. There were a row of mirrors across the wall, bulbs adorning their perimeter. Seats were in disarray, scattered around the room. The tops of the vanities were covered with makeup, brushes, curling irons, and other instruments of beautification. Several racks were full of various clothing and outrageous costumes, most following the sea theme. Then, on a solitary hook near the door, was a large, bulky brown jacket. Michael reached into the pocket and lifted out the keys. Things were finally starting to look up. With renewed vigor, he went through the back door, pistol at the ready. The elevator stood directly in front of him, only a hallway between. Carefully looking down each hallway, it seemed clear. Quickly he moved, using the key to get into the elevator. It was large - very large. A car would likely fit in it. Pressing the button labeled 'G', he waited as it slowly began its descent. What was only seconds seemed like minutes to Michael. He just wanted to be back with his friends and family. While his life wasn't the most exciting, he would give anything to get back to it. Hell, even the boring landscape of Mersberry seemed welcoming. Then the elevator stopped. 4. He was only on the fourth floor - why was it stopping now? As the elevator doors began to creak open, Michael could see a man's terrified face. He was putting his hand in the elevator, attempting to speed along the process by forcing the doors apart. Then, as quickly as he appeared, he was gone, taking off running down the hall. Close behind him, three of the zombies were pursuing him, paying little attention to Michael and the still mostly closed elevator. "Damn, that guy is in trouble. But if I stop here, who knows if we can make it back to the elevator or what troubles I will find waiting..." What will Michael do?A. Exit the elevator, trying to kill the creatures following the man (which gun will he use?) B. Quickly slam the elevator button, leaving the man. It is too dangerous to stop again, especially when he is so close to the bottom. C. Yell at the man and toss one of the weapons (which one?) outside the elevator before continuing down. He may or may not survive, and Michael will have less firepower. D. Hold the elevator door and yell at the man to try and come back, but don't leave the confines of the lift. If he can't find a way around, or more creatures come, then go down without him E. Other Michael Clifford
Status: Fine
Wearing: Striped Suit, Dress Shoes
Inventory: Wallet (Driver's License, Family Photo, Key, $37), Glock Pistol (11 rounds), Revolver (2 bullets), Cell Phone
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Post by Tbone on Aug 25, 2010 14:47:03 GMT -6
D, it's harsh but he's so close.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 25, 2010 18:31:58 GMT -6
D if only to avoid a tie.
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Post by Veta on Aug 25, 2010 22:54:55 GMT -6
C and magnum.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 26, 2010 19:12:50 GMT -6
Bastioncon, don't feel like you HAVE to pick the same choice. Don't get me wrong - I certainly don't mind if you do if that's the choice you wanted, but if there is a tie I just randomly select one and go with it (unless there is some special case), so even a tie can change things up.
Michael desperately wanted to help the man, but he couldn't risk getting stuck on another floor. It had been quite a while since he was separated from his initial group, and he needed to find out what happened to them. "Come on!" Michael yelled, waving the man in with one hand while keeping the other on the elevator entrance. The man was a good ways down the hall now, but the voice made him turn. He was sweating heavily, his hair drenched so much that his thick glasses were soaked from the dripping perspiration. Taking several deep breaths, he gathered what courage he could, and charged at the three zombies ahead of him in an attempt to reach the elevator. While it was a valiant effort, the man was far too worn out and sapped of strength to push past the assailants. As he worked to escape, he was scratched and bit several times. "No!" Michael yelled. The man pulled away from the group and took of running towards a door at the far end of the hall. There was a small sign on the metal door, but Michael couldn't make it out at such a distance. Inside the room it looked like large industrial lights and metal stairs. The deadly chorus of the undead grabbed his attention. He turned and looked down the opposite end of the hall to see a large mob of the creatures. Had his yelling drew their attention? Or maybe it was simply the smell of the living. Did they even have senses? Michael couldn't spare it much thought as he quickly fell back into the elevator, slamming the ground floor button repeatedly. He frowned as the elevator slowly continued towards its destination. The man would likely die. If the disease spread through the creatures bites, he would be worse off than dead. Michael sighed. DingThe elevator doors slowly slid open. This was it - the first floor. He was nearly out. The thought of escape screamed through his mind. Stay alert, stay ready. He kept his pistol raised, ready to fire at any moment. He scanned the wall signs near the elevator. Exit -> Michael crept around the corner, peering down the hall. All clear. He continued this methodical pattern, following the signs as he went. The elevator got him to the first floor, but it was a bit out of the way from the main exits. Finally, though, he reached the final stretch. He was greeted by the same lobby that he entered on New Year's Eve, but it was changed. The grand dolphin fountains were stained with blood, torn bodies floating in the waters. People failing to escape hung over the stair railings, across the floor, and several unfortunate ones died right next to the exit. "I have to be careful about this," he thought. "There is no room for mistakes." "Agh!" He screamed aloud. While sitting there, staring intensely at the open floor to come up with a plan, one of the zombies had crept up behind him. Though he moved fast, he wasn't fast enough. The teeth of the creature tore the skin on his neck. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to draw blood. "Am I going to die? Become one of them?" The fear clouded his judgment. No longer were his decisions dictated by planned thoughts. Instead, he worked completely on adrenaline fueled instincts. He grabbed the zombie by the head, slamming it into the nearby wall, his purple-hued face smashing, painting the white walls red. He continued the assault, slamming several more times until the creature fell to the ground. He began charging down the flight of stairs, kicking and slamming into bodies, knocking the undead to the floor and rushing blindly towards the exit. The zombies in the entire room seemed to turn towards him, making their way towards him, working, whether they knew it or not, to seal off his escape. He fired his gun repeatedly. The swarm was thick enough that not a single bullet missed. A few shots simply slowed the creatures' robotic-like shuffle, but most were close enough to outright kill their targets. Michael was charging through, paying no heed to the fact that the gun had stopped firing several shots earlier. As the distance between them came to a close, he lowered his shoulder and forced his way through the crowd. He could feel their arms and hands grabbing at him, but somehow he made it. Luckily, the concentration of zombies was strongest to his sides and rear, allowing him a way out through a small line of the creatures in front of him. Jumping over the remains of their last sinister meal, he threw the front door open, escaping into the street outside. It had been a while since he looked out the hotel window. There was plenty of evidence that things weren't going any better outside. Michael could see several fires in the buildings on his current street alone. Vehicles were overturned, crashed, or simply abandoned. It was an eerie scene, the sun fully risen but the street silent, save the muffled groans of zombies in the distance. "There he is! I told you he would make it!" Michael could clearly make out Eric's voice. Looking in his direction, he saw the group sitting on the top of a big rig's trailer. "You guys are alive! Ha ha!" As he made his way towards them, his vision became blurred. "Is he crying?" he could hear Faatina ask in her soft voice. Walking seemed more difficult, his equilibrium was shot. A strange feeling of uncontrollable sleepiness came over him. Michael could barely make out Veronica's voice. "And where is Emma?" He didn't realize he even was falling until the pain shot up his leg as his knees slammed into the concrete below.
Hushed whispers came to a stop as Michael's eyelids raised and fell several times before finally opening completely. His knees still hurt, but as he reached up to rub them he nearly fell over. Veronica cried, her hands over her mouth as Michael realized his arms were tied together. "What the-" "Sorry, man. Listen, we thought the first time you passed out it was just stress, but what about this time? Were you bitten by one of those things? Please, just tell me you are fine and we will untie you. We just didn't want to risk it if you -" he stopped, coughing as he choked on his own tears. "We didn't know if you were going to become one of those, just please..." What will Michael do?A. Lie. "No, I was cut working my way down here. I'm fine - really." B. Tell the truth, accept your bindings. "Yes. One of those things bit me just before I got out. I don't know what is going to happen to me, so maybe it is safer to keep me tied up. C. Tell the truth, reason to be free. "Yes, one of those things managed to bite me, but just barely. I won't be any use to you tied up, and we don't even know if the disease spreads like that. (Optional: Tell them one of them can have your gun just in case) D. Lie, aggressive. "What? Do you really think I would put you all in danger like that? No I wasn't bit. Now untie me before those things find us." E. Other. The next update will be a tiny one most likely, but it seemed odd to mix the next choices without any interaction.Michael Clifford
Status: Tied up, Happy to see others, Fearful of bite
Wearing: Striped Suit, Dress Shoes, Rope
Inventory: Wallet (Driver's License, Family Photo, Key, $37), Glock Pistol (empty), Revolver (2 bullets), Cell Phone
Group: Faatina, Eric, Veronica, Carrie
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Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Aug 26, 2010 19:14:29 GMT -6
I'm curious Smakit, are we going to be seeing Emma, Michelle, and Owen again?
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Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Aug 26, 2010 19:25:16 GMT -6
C, withholding information in situations like this only ends up screwing people over further down the road.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 26, 2010 19:26:08 GMT -6
Curious that. I was actually considering doing it one out of two ways (which I imagine are the two most obvious ways =P). I was either going to have them in the story later (either you meet up with them, or a sort of end-of-the-movie spiel where you see what happened to various characters, depending on what you all choose here down the road a few updates), or a switching of main perspectives back and forth, where one of those three are a secondary 'main' character in which you will also have to make choices for (split story sort of deal).
I would be interested to see what you guys would prefer, as either are applicable in this story. Should the second way be chosen, if the two meet together again, Michael will (assuming he is around =P) take the lead character's spot once again, taking things from his perspective.
One way makes Michael seem the more important and primary character, where the other allows more interaction instead of simple story telling of other people involved.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 27, 2010 10:15:17 GMT -6
C as well, but not simply to avoid a tie this tie. As Tbone said, it's imperative to remain truthful so they don't doubt Michael. We don't need our own version of The Thing, now do we.....
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Post by Deleted on Aug 27, 2010 19:06:13 GMT -6
"I want to be honest with you guys. Just before I made it through the lobby, I'm pretty sure one of the creatures bit me. No, no. I know he did. It wasn't a very deep bite, but it drew blood." "Oh, no." Veronica started, tears still flowing freely. Michael turned his head to look directly at his sister. "Hey, we don't even know if the virus spreads like that." Faatina's eyes moved back and forth furiously, as if reading some invisible passage. Maybe it was because she knew Michael the least, but she seemed the most cool and collected of the group. "I think he could be right. Remember the reporter guy? I didn't see any bites on him, and we were all in that room for quite some time before he turned." "Hmm. You're right. In the video the cameraman had, I watched from the moment things started getting crazy. Neither of them were bit and made it into the room just fine from what I can tell." A spark of hope filled Veronica's eyes. She didn't even breath for several moments, a smile taking over her face before wrapping her arms tightly around her brother, kissing his cheek. "You see! You are fine!" "Easy, easy. Listen, I can't say it for certain, but at least there is a chance. Still, you guys should be careful." "Fine, we will watch you like a hawk." Eric, too, seemed to be more spirited. "If you change I promise I will crush your skull, but until then I'm not leaving you tied up to be zombie food." "Eric!" Veronica scolded. "Sorry!" he said with a small laugh, Michael joining in as his friend untied the rope around his wrists. Michael, and everyone else, knew his fate was still uncertain. Despite the circumstances, or more accurately because of them, the group couldn't help but smile and laugh. Faatina flashed a smile, but Michael could still tell she was more concerned than the others. Carrie finally spoke up. "Well, here. It isn't much but we grabbed a few things from a trashed vending machine. Nothing says meal time like a soda and some stale pretzels." She waved the bag in front of him and forced a grin.
The group sat there eating, an awkward sight to be sure. All of them were still dressed up (though the girls had removed their heels), sitting atop a truck as small fires burned around them, eating expired pretzels and drinking soda. Michael caught them up with information about Emma as well as the meeting he had with the insane man, Owen, and Michelle. "We saw it fly overhead, but didn't realize it landed. We waved our hands and shouted, but we just assumed they were escaping." Eric put a finger on his chin in thought. "You could have just left on a helicopter? Wow, man. I don't know - that would be pretty tempting. "Oh, come on," Michael said dismissively, "You guys sat out here on top of a truck waiting for me for hours, not knowing if I would even make it." The group sat silently a moment. "Did you guys run into any trouble?" "Us? Well, there was just the run from the elevator to the exit," Eric said, looking over towards Carrie who closed her arms around herself at the mention. "Things were pretty bad there. A lot of people were trying to flee at the same time, and a lot of people were getting pulled down the by creatures. We managed to get out, but not many others did. Those who managed to escape ran off in different directions, and some of them tried to drive away." "Speaking of," Veronica interrupted, "We need to find out what we are doing." She yawned as she started the next sentence, "Soo-aww. Does anyone have a plan?" "We might be able to get a car from the parking lot. I don't really know how to hot-wire a car, though. I know I had to park my truck near the top. When we got out I had thought about getting it, but that place is crawling with zombies. Your sister said her car was only up three floors, but that still is a lot of them to wade through." Faatina chimed in. "Maybe one of the vehicles there or around here still have keys in them. It would be a gamble, but we could look if you wanted." "That's true, Faatina. Still, whether we find a car or some bikes to steal, we still need to figure out where we are going." Veronica changed the course of the conversation from mode of travel to that of a destination. Eric tossed out his overly simplified plan. "I say we just get the hell out of Canova. Hopefully this crap hasn't spread all over the country." Veronica didn't seem so sure about it. "Maybe we should go to the authorities. See what the police suggest we do. Maybe there is some safe spot to go or something." "If there are any police left," Faatina added. "According to what that officer told Michael, they were spread all over the place." "Still, I think it beats just trying to run away. The roads and bridges may be flooded with people who were trying to get out. What did you have in mind anyway, Faatina?" Veronica shifted the conversation to her. "I - I don't know. Michael, you said you killed some of them with a gun, right?" "Yeah, but I wasted all my ammo. I still have two shots with this revolver, though. It seemed like shooting them in the head worked. I don't know if they die in any other ways or not. Oh, and some of them seemed weaker than the others, and clumsier." "Well, maybe we could find a gun shop or pawn broker or something and get some weapons to help." Veronica added her own worry. "That is if the throngs of people trying to survive didn't already think of that and clean them out." Michael looked over at Carrie, who looked off into the sky as the others talked. "What about you?" he asked her. "I just want to go home." Eric sighed. The group had plenty of ideas, but each came with their own problems. Michael turned on his phone to glance at the time. 9:02 am. What should Michael suggest?A. Agree with Eric. It might be a bottleneck at the bridge, but anything was better than staying on Canova Island. Like he said, maybe it was the only place infected. B. Agree with Veronica. Even if the police were spread out, surely someone stayed at the station - a dispatcher, secretary, someone who knew what was going on. They might have the best chance of knowing about any plan in the air. C. Agree with Faatina. They were likely on their own from here on out, and they needed to be prepared. They had to find weapons. (Optional: Suggest where to look. Gun stores, Super-stores like Walmart, Pawn Shops, etc.) D. Don't offer any suggestion, simply letting the rest of the group figure it out. E. Offer your own suggestion. (Specify) What about pertaining to transportation?A. Consider reaching Veronica's car. It was closer and they had the keys, though it was a smaller vehicle. B. Consider reaching Eric's truck. It had seats in the back and a large cab, so a lot could be moved around. Unfortunately, it was much higher in the parking garage than Veronica's. C. Search every vehicle nearby for keys, knowing it will likely take time and could prove fruitless. There are not masses of zombies nearby, but that doesn't mean the entire area is clear either. (Optional: Continue into the first floor of the parking garage if none are found on the local street) D. Veronica, perhaps jokingly, mentioned bicycles. While it might not be as fast as a car, the group might be able to find some nearby and gain some mobility. E. Give up on the thought of transportation for the moment. Besides the obvious threats of zombies while trying to find some, the streets might look similar, or worse, than this road: full of crashed vehicles, bodies, and possibly hordes of the creatures. F. Other.
Michael Clifford
Status: Unsure of what to do next, tired
Wearing: Striped Suit, Dress Shoes
Inventory: Wallet (Driver's License, Family Photo, Key, $37), Glock Pistol (empty), Revolver (2 bullets), Cell Phone
Group: Faatina, Eric, Veronica, Carrie
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Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Aug 27, 2010 19:14:16 GMT -6
B, A. They can all squeeze for now.
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