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Post by AceTheMercenary on Sept 4, 2012 13:58:42 GMT -6
"Zombies, they took our Willamette, they took our Las Vegas, but tonight, America, tonight it's time for a little payback! It's time for --"
Jack turns off the TV in his dressing room just as TK begins to go into his opening speech, sighing nervously in anticipation of the events to come. He was due up on the show, Terror Is Reality, in about ten minutes, but he had already prepared himself for it. Unlike the other contestants around him, who were just now getting dressed.
He didn't know what exactly had first gotten him roped into competing in the controversial pay-per-view show. He had a job previously as a rather well-paid bartender in Las Vegas, and that had been working out okay. Then a zombie outbreak had occured and he found himself both homeless and jobless, though thankfully his brother had offered to allow him to stay there until he could get back on his feet.
Said brother had also told him about Terror Is Reality, and as a joking dare had challenged him to sign up and try out for it. Jack, needing the money terribly, finally decided to actually do so. For a first time competitor, he hadn't exactly done that bad, even going so far as to take third place in the whole thing, and receiving roughly $5,000 for his efforts. Not the best money in the world, but definitely enough to last him for some time. Soon after that he became something of a local hero and found a job as yet another bartender, though he continued to stay with his cousin.
Roughly four months later, he had received an invitation in the mail formally inviting him to participate in yet another Terror Is Reality event: TIR XVII: Payback. The contestants were apparently all survivors of zombie outbreaks, with a big focus on those who survived Willamette and Las Vegas. Deciding to participate once again, Jack sent a response in the mail, told his manager that he'd need that week off, and finally ended up where he was currently: dressing in a blue TIR uniform and waiting to get up and go kill some zombies.
"Jack Krysta? Got a minute?" Jack reaches for his pack of cigarettes on the table, placing one in his mouth and lighting it. Immediately a calming feeling rushes over his formerly nervous body almost instantaneously as he takes a drag from it, the nicotine quickly taking effect. "Yeah. Come in." The door opens and a TIR official steps in, clipboard and pen in hand. "Sorry about the interruption, but you probably know this is a dangerous event. Should anything happen out there, I just need to make sure your next of kin is still correct from the previous show." He remarks, putting his pen to the paper and waiting for an answer.
"Yeah, it should still be correct. If I end up dead, everything I own goes to my brother, Alexander Krysta." Jack replies. "All right... Well, everything looks to be in order. You're due up in five minutes with the other contestants, so you better get ready. Good luck out there, Mr. Krysta." The official says before opening the door and disappearing. "Good luck my ass. I'd just be happy to get out of there in one piece," Jack mutters under his breath, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray and grabbing his helmet off the table. "Time to get started." Jack exits his dressing room, accidentally bumping into one of the girls dressed as a Playboy bunny, a comely blond thing with bright green eyes. Before he can apologize, she takes off again, though not before giving him a quick wink and friendly smile.
"Everybody's in a hurry, it seems..."
After making his way up to the contestant's area, a cage with zombies surrounding it, another TIR official steps in front of them, also carrying a clipboard. "All right you four. You should all know the rules of this event by now, but in case you don't, here's a quick recap: whoever kills the most zombies in the most stylish ways they can and earns the most points wins. If you die, your next of kin do not collect your prize money, but will gain whatever you left them in your wills, and TIR will personally cover your funeral. Any questions?" The contestants were all silent. "Good. Now choose your weapon and let's get this thing over with. Good luck, everyone." The TIR official exits the room and a hole opens in the floor, a rack filled with weapons appearing from within it soon after for them to take.
Jack glances at the impressive display of weaponry before him, unable to decide what exactly to take. Two weapons seemed vaguely familiar, but the rest were entirely new to him.
Jack Krysta
Health: 100% Fatigue: 0% Entourage: Nobody Inventory: Nothing, currently
CHOOSE YO WEAPON:
A) The Paddlesaw, this iconic weapon is a masterpiece of brutality and style when in the hands of a proper user, but someone not strong enough to wield it could find themselves buckling under the weight of it and unable to use it properly
B) The TIR moosehead, though not exactly stylish it does offer the potential for many kills and could possibly offer a chance to win the competition, though it is quite unwieldy and risky as it requires going head to head with the zombies (literally)
C) The Boomstick, this pitchfork with a shotgun underbarrel offers little potential for a great deal of kills, but could possibly offer more style for each kill, thus potentially earning more points than the competitors
D) The Knife Gloves, a nice well-rounded set of weaponry that is likely the easiest to use, though safe does not always mean rewarding
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Post by Slayer_22 on Sept 4, 2012 14:24:03 GMT -6
c
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silentking
New Survivor
World's Greatest Misnomer
Posts: 24
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Post by silentking on Sept 4, 2012 14:46:44 GMT -6
C
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Post by Tbone on Sept 4, 2012 15:42:10 GMT -6
A ftw.
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Post by Song Nai on Sept 4, 2012 16:00:42 GMT -6
C
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Post by Rie (CSF) on Sept 4, 2012 18:56:02 GMT -6
C!
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Post by Rai Chiller on Sept 4, 2012 19:24:33 GMT -6
What the fuck? How is the most boring weapon winning?
B
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Zomby Wulf
Experienced Survivor
I Only Do *Redacted*
Posts: 145
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Post by Zomby Wulf on Sept 5, 2012 1:35:26 GMT -6
Dawg, B.
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Post by AceTheMercenary on Sept 6, 2012 12:04:27 GMT -6
After browsing the set of weaponry for a minute or two, Jack finally sets his sights on a rather peculiar invention, a pitchfork with a shotgun attached to it. Feeling curious, he picks the thing up, testing its weight in his hands.
"The Boomstick, eh? Good choice, rookie," Jack glances behind him as a hand claps him on the shoulder, finding the yellow contender standing there before he reaches down and picks up the moosehead, fastening it onto his own head. "I started out with that thing myself. Aren't you that guy from the last show? Third place? The guys and I were talking about you in the locker room." He asks. "Yeah. Jack Krysta." Jack replies, not entirely sure that he liked the idea of being a topic of locker room conversation.
"I'm Kristopher Bookmiller, but everyone just calls me Kris. Good to meet you, Jack," The two shake hands quickly. "I make a habit out of meeting new contestants when I can. Never know what's going to happen once you end up in the arena." Kris remarks. "No offense intended here, buddy, but maybe we should save the heartfelt greetings for after the show. You know, when we're all sure we're still alive?" Jack questions, wondering why Kris had waited until the start of the show to try and start up a conversation. "Business first type, huh? I can respect that. Yeah, we'll save it for after the show. Good luck up there, and may the better man win." Jack ignores him as he takes his place on the lift, weapon in hand as he makes certain his helmet is fastened on properly.
A green light flashes nearby, and the ceiling above them opens up, before the lift proceeds to lurch upwards, eventually bringing them up to the arena where they are greeted by the thunderous applause of the audience and the blinding flashes of thousands of cameras.
"ALLLLL RIGHT! Show some love for our contestants tonight, people, while they get ready to kill for your entertainment!" TK shouts as the lift finally stops. The crowd only proceeds to get louder at that, becoming almost deafening, and Jack had to refrain from trying to cover his ears as a result. "That's what I like to hear! Contestants, get your asses ready! Let's get this show on the road!"
Jack grips his Boomstick as the cages keeping the zombies contained in the arena are quickly lifted up, allowing the zombies to wander a bit. As soon as they were spread out, the bars in their way also dropped, and an explosion rocked the whole arena as the time began counting down.
The sound of the green contender revving up the chainsaws on his weapon and the sight of Kris and the red contender rushing forward prompts Jack to act as well. Holding the pitchfork in front of him, he charges the nearest smaller group of zombies, hitting the first one of the mob with considerable force. The pitchfork lodges itself deep in the zombie's chest, letting loose a torrent of blood as the zombie idly paws at him, entirely oblivious to it. With a pull of the shotgun's trigger, the zombie disappears in a rush of gore and body parts as the pellets have no space to spread properly. The shell easily blows through the zombie's midsection, before hitting its shambling companions directly behind it, splattering roughly three others all over the arena's floor as well.
"Oooooh, that's gotta hurt! But you gotta do more than that if you're ever...really...GONNA --" "WIN BIG!" Jack snarls under his breath as he hears TK's voice thunder over the groaning of the zombies and the cheers of the crowd. The man never seemed to just shut up for a bit. The contestants needed total concentration if they were going to make it through the match in one piece.
Ducking under a swipe from a zombie's left hand, Jack stabs it in the throat with his pitchfork 'bayonet' of sorts, yanking it free and allowing coagulated blood to dribble down its torn up shirt before moving the weapon to the left and swinging for the fences, hitting the zombie in the right side of its neck and roughly decapitating it. Another pull of the trigger causes the shotgun to fire once again, and four more zombies fell to the deadly ranged weapon. Jack stabs downwards at one that managed to survive the spread of the pellets, pinning it into the floor. As he is about to wrench it free and continue his miniature rampage, a chainsaw suddenly flies at him, prompting him to duck and barely avoid the deadly blade as it instead decapitates the zombie that was attempting to sneak up on him. Freeing his weapon, he brings it up as the chainsaw swings in his direction again, thankfully blocking it by the stick so it doesn't slice the Boomstick in half.
"Watch where you're swinging that thing! You almost took my fucking head off!" Jack shoves the chainsaw away from him, turning about to watch as another zombie is decapitated by the red contender's knife gloves and Kris charges through a mob of zombies, his moosehead sending them flying in bloody chunks, before deciding to get back to the action as well.
The battle of humans versus zombies rages on for ten agonizing minutes, with the very well armed humans obviously winning without so much as a scratch on them -- although the red contender seemed to have lost his helmet sometime during the action. Jack's own uniform was covered in small indentations where undead fingernails had clawed at him, but fortunately they were not quite sharp enough to penetrate the surprisingly thick material the suit was made out of.
Gripping the Boomstick by its hilt, Jack swings it in a wide arc, knocking down around five zombies and cutting them apart as the pitchfork's sharp teeth dig into their unprotected, rotting flesh. As he fires one final shot from his shotgun, a pair of hands grip him by the shoulders and proceed to shake him violently just before a pair of teeth sink into the right bicep of his suit.
Though the suit was surprisingly durable given how long it had held up, it apparently wasn't quite up to snuff at blocking a zombie's teeth, as was the case now as they quickly sank into his flesh.
Jack shouts in pain as the zombie bites into his arm, pulling back with a fairly decent-sized chunk of his flesh and chewing with its mouth open like a redneck at the dinner table. Out of instinct, Jack plants his foot in the zombie's stomach, sending it flying backwards before the realization of what just happened finally begins to sink in.
"...wasn't supposed to..." Jack barely hears TK's voice through the loudspeakers over the sound of blood rushing through his ears as he glances down at his new wound, which was now bleeding freely and running down his suit. Though the injury itself wasn't that severe, he was most definitely infected -- doomed to either become a zombie himself and quite possibly end up on this show once again when he was of the undead variety, or forced to take Zombrex for the rest of his life. Which wasn't exactly inexpensive because of its rarity.
Anger and adrenaline did pulse through him then, overriding all of his senses and numbing the pain almost entirely. He had just been infected because of a stupid contest for a crowd full of moronic pigs's entertainment. And the zombie that caused it was still alive. Well, at least in a sense.
Setting his jaw and readying his weapon, Jack waits for the zombie to shamble to its feet before stabbing it in the chest with his pitchfork, a primal roar accompanying the action. A pull of the shotgun's trigger leaves the zombie's guts on the ground, but not quite content with that, Jack summons reserves of strength he didn't realize he even possessed, lifting the zombie off the ground and over his head before pulling the trigger three more times, sending blood flying several feet into the air and finally breaking the zombie completely in two.
Jack drops both his weapon and what little remained of the zombie's corpse on the blood-covered ground, glancing up into the air and extending his arms as the gore rains down on him in fine droplets -- right as the timer proceeded to expire, and the explosive collars of each zombie in the arena causes their heads to explode, killing them instantly.
"Looks like we got ourselves a winner, ladies and gentlemen! A small town hero who just rose to prominence! Give it up for Jack Krysta!" Still momentarily in disbelief, Jack blinks a few times before coming to his senses once again. A shaky hand reaches up to remove his helmet, allowing a messy mop of brown hair its freedom and piercing blue eyes to adjust to the lighting of the arena once again. Glancing up at the scoreboard, he finds that he had, in fact, won the competition. Quickly he turns around to face TK, who merely gestures for him to come up on the stage. Jack does so on shaky legs, though TK himself grips him by the hand and pretty much drags him up by strength alone.
"You've seen it and I've seen it here tonight, people! Mr. Krysta here took a break from pouring shots for celebrities and put his body on the line to earn himself some real cash!" Jack barely refrains from rolling his eyes at the emphasis TK puts on the word 'cash'. He happened to be paid quite well for pouring those shots...though he doubted it would be enough to pay for his now daily need of Zombrex, so it didn't exactly matter anymore.
"Somebody get this man his prize money! Oh, and throw in one of our Champion's jackets. I'd say he's earned it!" Jack reaches up from his sitting position with his good arm and smacks TK in the side, prompting the game show host to glance down at him. "Better get some Zombrex, too, asshole. Before I start feeling hungry." TK gives him a glare, but nevertheless motions for two paramedics, who quickly help him into the back of the arena.
"But we're just gettin' started, people! Now we've got to move on to our next event!"
"Asshole TK... Fucking Terror Is Reality, I hate it." Jack mumbles to himself as one of the medics bandages up his arm with sterile dressing. The wound was already feeling numb and he was starting to feel a bit cold. Evidently he didn't quite have the Herculean resistance that Frank West did. Or maybe all the infected felt like this. It was hard to say for sure.
"All right. Now if you'll just remain still for a minute, we can apply the Zombrex and we'll be all done here, Mr. Krysta." Jack rips what remains of his suit's sleeve off, though he pales quite a bit as the medic pulls a massive blue and white syringe out of his pack of torture tools. "That's the needle? You gotta be kidding me." Jack asks, shying away somewhat as the medic comes closer with the vile invention. Bloody needle phobias... "Yes, this is a Zombrex syringe. I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it, however. You're going to be taking one every day until you die." The medic replies. Jack sucks in a shaky breath, holding his arm out for him to take. "Just get it over with."
In short order the drug is injected, and suddenly he felt less...sick. Actually, somewhat better than he had before he had actually been bitten. Zombrex was a hell of a drug, apparently. "There you are. You're free to go get washed up and changed. By the way, it's 10 PM right now. You'll need to take another dose at this time tomorrow night." Jack waves the medic off as he disappears into the hallway, leaving him alone for the time being. Getting to his feet, Jack leaves as well, returning to his dressing room for a quick shower and getting changed into a pair of simple jeans and a white t-shirt, along with his black boots. He stares at the Champion's jacket that had been delivered to his room by one of the TIR officials, before merely shrugging and putting it on as well. There was no sense in letting a good jacket go to waste, after all.
Now clad in civilian clothes, there was only one question remaining. What was he going to do now?
Jack Krysta
Health: 95%, bandaged bite wound on left arm Fatigue: 40% Entourage: Nobody Inventory: Pack of cigarettes, lighter, cell phone (100% battery charge remaining), envelope containing $50,000 in prize money
A) Go up into the audience and finish watching what remains of Terror Is Reality, Jack doesn't exactly have any pressing concerns at the moment and the main event isn't too far away
B) Find a nice bar on the Silver Strip or the Platinum Strip and spend what remains of the evening there, a stiff drink will definitely take the edge off right now
C) Explore the backstage area a little, maybe there's something interesting going on back there
D) Try finding something to eat, all that zombie killing works up an appetite (Can be combined with A or B, if desired)
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Post by Tbone on Sept 6, 2012 12:19:11 GMT -6
C. I'd say B, but drinking right after taking his very first zombrex injection doesn't seem like it'd go over very well. Btw Ace, will food function as a way to heal in this cyoa since it's set in the DR universe or is it just filler for the story?
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Post by Veta on Sept 6, 2012 12:25:42 GMT -6
D and B.
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Post by Rai Chiller on Sept 6, 2012 14:39:39 GMT -6
C
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Post by Song Nai on Sept 6, 2012 16:33:17 GMT -6
D and C. If this unintentionally causes a tie, then just C.
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silentking
New Survivor
World's Greatest Misnomer
Posts: 24
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Post by silentking on Sept 6, 2012 16:49:07 GMT -6
D and A
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Post by Slayer_22 on Sept 9, 2012 14:34:43 GMT -6
D, c.
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Post by AceTheMercenary on Sept 11, 2012 13:05:12 GMT -6
Well, no sense in staying here in my dressing room all night. Maybe there's something interesting happening here behind the scenes. Opening the door of his dressing room, Jack exits out into the hallway, making sure to lock it behind him. He'd have to turn the key in at the front desk later on anyway, but that didn't mean he wanted just anyone walking inside.
The sound of boots thumping against the floor causes Jack to glance up, his jaw nearly hitting the floor as he realizes just who it was. Standing there in all his glory and wearing a red and black Terror Is Reality wrestling uniform was none other than famous Willamette survivor, freelance photojournalist and zombie killer extraordinaire, Frank West himself.
"Uh... M-Mr. West!" Jack waves the aging photojournalist down, who pauses and gives him a look. "I, uh... W-what are you doing here, of all people?" Jack mentally kicks himself for his lack of coherent thought while Frank looks visibly amused, no doubt used to dealing with star-struck fans by now. "Should be obvious, kid. I'm here to compete. You already got your match out of the way, right? Blue contestant? I saw you out there." Frank asks. "That's right, yeah. I guess it wasn't too impressive for someone like yourself, though..." Jack scratches the back of his head and gives Frank a sheepish grin. "I dunno, kid. You really got the crowd behind you out there, especially after your little mishap. I think you did pretty good." Frank replies, crossing his arms.
"I...thanks, Mr. West. That means a lot coming from you. Listen, I know you're busy and all, but...well, you're kind of a hero of mine, so I was wondering...you mind if I get your autograph, really quick?" Jack asks. Frank looks somewhat surprised for a split-second, before quickly squashing the look of surprise and becoming stone-faced again. "Uh...sure thing, kid. You got a pen and piece of paper?" Jack glances around the hallway for anything suitable, before finally setting his sights on a poster on the wall -- one of Frank's 'special appearance' posters, no less. Quickly he tears it off the wall, ignoring the poster of a man named 'Chuck Greene' beneath it before handing it to Frank and reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pen, which he also gives to Frank.
Frank takes a few moments to sign the poster on the all-white back where it would be legible, before handing the poster and pen back to Jack. Jack stares at it for a moment, entirely stunned before shoving the pen back in his pocket and folding up the poster so it'd be easier to carry. "Thanks so much, Mr. West. I'll treasure this. Good luck up there with...whatever the hell TK has planned for you." He remarks as the celebrity passes by, throwing up a hand and bidding him goodbye. "Wow, Frank West fighting in the same tournament as me... Didn't see that one coming." Shoving his hands in his pockets, Jack continues on his way, shaking his head.
As he turns the corner, Jack stumbles as someone bumps into him, staggering him back a little and knocking the other person to the floor. No longer lost in thought, he glances down on the floor to find a blonde Playboy bunny seated there, rubbing her left elbow which had hit the floor during her tumble. "Oh, sorry. I didn't see you there." Jack offers her a hand, which she happily takes, allowing Jack to haul her back up to her feet before beginning to brush what little clothing she was wearing off. "No, it's my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going," The girl offers him a sweet smile which disappears instantly as her eyes focus on his face.
"Wait... Weren't you the guy that got bitten out there earlier?" She asks, taking a step back. "Yeah, I was, but don't worry. They gave me some Zombrex as soon as they could. It's taken care of." The blonde exhales a sigh of relief, the smile returning to her lips. "Sorry, I just... I guess I've been around zombies too long here. I didn't mean to assume. I'm Lulu Barra."
"Jack Krysta." Jack replies, returning her smile with one of his own. "Nice to meet you. So, any particular reason as to why you're prowling around backstage, Jack?" Lulu asks. "I could ask the same of you, really. I thought the rest of the bunnies were upstairs in the arena." Jack replies. "Oh, they are. I'm just on my break right now. So I thought I'd come down here for the rest of it and see if I could find anything to do." Lulu responds. "Sounds like that makes two of us, then. So what's there to do around here in the arena, anyway?" Jack begins to follow Lulu as she starts walking again. "Other than talk to people, nothing really. Would you like to come with me and meet Chuck Greene, by chance? He has an adorable daughter, you'd love her." Lulu replies. "Sounds good to me. Lead the way." Jack replies, more than willing to follow a Playboy bunny around for however long it would last.
While thinking up possible ways to ask her to have dinner with him or something, Lulu stops them just outside the elevator and presses the down button, waiting until the doors open before stepping inside and waiting for Jack, who is still standing outside. "Gonna get in the elevator, or would you rather just stand there looking like you just met Frank West?" Lulu asks, giggling a bit as Jack shakes his head. "Sorry. Just admiring the view, is all." He replies, giving her a goofy grin as he steps inside. Lulu rolls her eyes playfully before pressing the button and allowing the elevator doors to close.
Almost as soon as the elevator begins its downward descent, the two hear something break above them as the elevator grinds to a halt. "Oh shit," Jack remarks, glancing up at the ceiling in a futile effort to try to figure out what happened. "No sudden moves..." He advises Lulu, taking gentle, slow steps toward the control panel and pressing the emergency button. "Yes, hello? Our elevator just broke down and we're trapped here. Can anyone help --" At that point the elevator gives way entirely, sending them rocketing down to ground level at a ridiculous speed. The elevator nearly explodes as it hits the ground, causing Jack's head to smash against the wall and knocking him unconscious.
"...wake up!" Jack's eyes open slowly, burning somewhat from what little light remained in the elevator to find Lulu knelt over him, shaking his shoulders with surprising strength. "Ugh...shit. What happened?" Jack asks, reaching up for one of the elevator's handles and dragging himself to his feet. "You hit your head and it knocked you unconscious. We've been trapped in here for about fifteen minutes. We've got to find some way out of here." Lulu replies. Shaking off the cobwebs, Jack walks over to the sliding elevator doors, grabbing them and applying some strength. Slowly they begin to give way, opening up to a horrific sight: people running through the area as zombies milled about, not unlike what they were doing in the arena prior.
"Fuck! Can you see this, Lulu?" Jack glances back to find the Playboy bunny staring at the carnage before them with wide eyes, both hands covering her mouth. "Oh no... How did the zombies get loose?" She asks. "Hell if I know, but we're sitting ducks in this elevator. Come on." Jack replies, grunting in exertion as he forces the doors open a bit further. "We've got to find my friends! They're out here in this somewhere!" Lulu remarks, not budging even when Jack grabs her hand and attempts to drag her out of the elevator. Jack glances back at her, then at the horde of zombies before them, wondering if getting sidetracked by such a request would truly be worth it.
Jack Krysta
Health: 95%, bandaged bite wound on left arm Fatigue: 40% Entourage: Nobody Inventory: Pack of cigarettes, lighter, cell phone (100% battery charge remaining), envelope containing $50,000 in prize money
A) Cave in and decide to assist Lulu in searching this area for her friends, there's no doubt she'll be grateful for it later on...
B) Try to convince her that safety should be their prime concern at the moment, Jack would rather not wander directly into the path of the horde
C) Abandon the prospect entirely, this sounds as though it'd be far too much work even for such a pretty girl
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Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Sept 11, 2012 13:11:09 GMT -6
A, bunny entourage ftw.
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Post by Slayer_22 on Sept 11, 2012 15:16:38 GMT -6
a
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Post by Rai Chiller on Sept 11, 2012 17:03:29 GMT -6
A I sai
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Post by Song Nai on Sept 11, 2012 18:57:31 GMT -6
A. Maybe we'll get to see Chuck or Frank again. If not, well it's not like anyone is going to deny a hot playboy bunny's request.
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Post by AceTheMercenary on Sept 16, 2012 12:01:55 GMT -6
"All right, we'll do it your way. Maybe they're on this floor somewhere. Just keep close, okay?" Jack returns to his former task of prying open the doors, dragging them apart just enough for him to squeeze through. Jack gets to his knees in a kneeling position as soon as he is free, reaching back down and taking Lulu by the hand before hauling her up as well, a fairly easy feat given that the bunny is rather light.
"Help us, please! They're gonna kill us both!" Jack glances to the left, finding two men trapped behind a metal security wall, with a massive horde of zombies closing in from behind. Just as he is about to move and find some way to open the grate, the two are quickly swarmed by zombies and torn apart. All around him he could hear people screaming as they are attacked by the ravenous hordes and ripped to shreds, just barely above the deafening collective groan of the zombies. It reminded him a little too much of Vegas.
As a large mob of them directly in front of them begins to flood the hallway, Jack looks about for any weapons he can find in his immediate area, deciding to pick up a baseball bat that was left behind, along with a fire axe that had been propped up against the wall next to a fire extinguisher container attached to the wall. "Keep close, Lulu."
As soon as the first two zombies reach him, both fat, slovenly things, Jack swings for the fences with the baseball bat, cracking them both as hard as he possibly can. The force of the blow sends them falling into their comrades, creating a domino effect as most of the mob is knocked to the floor. "Time to go!" Jack stomps over the backs of the zombies on the floor as he makes his way across, easily avoiding the handful still left standing with Lulu close behind.
In short order they are almost near the exit out into the main entrance, having searched most of the rooms backstage already with no sign of any other Playboy bunnies. All that remained was a single room called the 'Green Room'. Deciding to leave no stone unturned, Jack grips the knob and attempts to open it, finding that it is locked up tightly. "Gonna have to break it down. Hang on." Jack remarks, switching weapons and hefting the fire axe he had found.
Wood splinters loudly as the axe makes solid contact with the door, hacking through it with ease. After a few more swings the battered door creaks open, allowing them access into the room. Upon entering it becomes apparent that it's quite a mess. A dead zombie is sprawled out in the middle of the floor, having been beaten without remorse apparently as it is in quite a state of disrepair. Something close to it catches Jack's eye, prompting him to investigate it. The objects laying on the floor in atop a puddle of blood turn out to be a green backpack fit for a small child, along with what appeared to be a handheld Nintendo game system of some sort. "Damn. What happened in here?"
"Alexandra!" Jack glances up as Lulu darts behind the couch before his eyes finally settle on another Playboy bunny, this one with long, jet black hair, slumped against the wall. Getting to his feet, Jack walks over to the downed bunny, kneeling in front of her and giving her shoulders a shake.
"Hey. Wake up!" The woman gives a groan of pain as her head slumps back down against her chest for a second or two before she raises it again, glassy, unfocused eyes staring back at him. Jack recoils slightly as he sees her face; it is entirely covered in bruises. Her right eye is blackened terribly, and both her nose and lower lip have been busted open, though the blood is mostly dried at this point.
"Ugh...who...who are you?" The bunny blinks a couple of times, taking in her surroundings before she catches sight of Lulu. "Lulu? What are you doing here? I thought you were on your break?" She asks. "It's a long story. What happened to you?" Lulu asks. "I was watching Chuck's daughter while he was up in the arena competing. I left for just a minute to take care of something, until that explosion... When I came back, the zombies were already loose. Once I walked back into the room, Chuck was here, just beating a dead zombie, and I didn't see Katey anywhere. Then he turned on me and knocked me unconscious, and now here you are." Alexandra replies.
"Listen, we've gotta get you out of here. Can you walk?" Jack asks, as the groaning of the zombies outside becomes more and more prominent. "I...don't think so, no. He beat me up pretty bad." Alexandra gives him a small smile, though it looks far more pained than anything else. "All right. I'll just have to carry you out, then." The protest dies in her throat as he lifts her up bridal style, feeling her arms wrap around his neck as a brace. "Let's do this."
The entrance of the arena is pure pandemonium, as most of the few survivors that were backstage have only gotten this far. A security guard was busy trying to fend off zombies with a gun, only to get mobbed to death, and a propane tank explodes off in the distance as he shoots it by accident, killing several zombies. Other people either managed to make it to the doors or were dragged down along the way, and still other people found themselves trapped around the area with nowhere to go. Jack tightens his grip on Alexandra, seeing no other way to go than directly through the mobs, when a particular person with a camera appears in his line of sight on the other side of the arena, carrying a baseball bat of his own as he proceeds to whack the zombies into paste with ease, slowly forcing his way to the entrance. Jack recognizes him instantly as Frank West, it figured he wouldn't end up dead this early.
"Where are we going?" Lulu asks. Jack ignores her, continuing to watch Frank. Their eyes meet momentarily, and Frank gestures for them to follow him, even going so far as to stop at the exit for a second.
Jack Krysta
Health: 95%, bandaged bite wound on left arm Fatigue: 40% Entourage: Lulu Barra, blonde Playboy bunny (100%), Alexandra Dawson, jet black-haired Playboy bunny (40%) Inventory: Pack of cigarettes, lighter, cell phone (100% battery charge remaining), envelope containing $50,000 in prize money
A) Follow Frank, he's survived situations like this before and probably knows his way around.
B) Ignore Frank and strike out on your own, Alexandra needs medical attention and Jack is not exactly an inexperienced zombie survivor himself
I know there's been a lack of choices the past couple of updates, but try to bear with me on that. Once we get a bit more open-ended and out of the arena, I'll have much more to work with.
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Post by Rai Chiller on Sept 16, 2012 12:07:10 GMT -6
A I sai. West knows best.
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Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Sept 16, 2012 12:12:42 GMT -6
A, it's Frank West. It almost isn't a choice.
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Post by Slayer_22 on Sept 16, 2012 16:57:32 GMT -6
a
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Post by AceTheMercenary on Sept 18, 2012 17:19:42 GMT -6
"Hey! You just going to stand there or what?" Frank's voice booms through the arena, catching Jack's attention once again. "Should we follow him, Jack? Maybe he knows where we can find a safe place to stay." Lulu asks. "You kidding? That's Frank fucking West. If anyone knows what's going on around here, it's him. Hang on, Alexandra!" Jack feels the bunny's grip around his neck tighten as he rushes directly towards a mob of zombies at the base of the stairs, hearing the clack of Lulu's heels behind him as she follows him.
Turning his body slightly and lowering his shoulder, Jack plows into the zombies as he reaches them, shoving them aside and sending them falling backwards, creating a small, safe path for Lulu to follow through. The way is cleared entirely as Jack plants his boot firmly in the chest of a particularly fat zombie, bowling over the last three in the way. Together, they finally manage to meet up with Frank, who holds the door open for them before slamming it in a zombie's face with enough force to break its jaw.
"Thanks a lot, Mr. West. We owe you one." Jack remarks, finding that -- much to his displeasure -- the zombies have overrun the strip as well. "It's just Frank at this point. Those were some pretty nice moves back there, kid. Reminds me of myself back in Willamette," Frank remarks, attempting to wipe some zombie blood off his coat, though he only succeeds in smearing it awfully. "Damn it. So where are you guys headed? I see you've made some friends since we last saw each other...what happened to that one?" Frank gestures to the injured bunny in Jack's arms, who merely cuts her eyes back at the photojournalist. "It's a long story. Look, do you have any idea where we can get her some medical attention and get away from the zombies for a while? She's beaten up pretty bad and I've had enough of the flesheaters for the time being." Jack asks.
"Yeah, I saw a bunker on my way to the arena earlier. It's somewhere out here on the Strip. Maybe they haven't sealed it up tight yet. I'll lead the way. But before we go, you got a better weapon on you that I can use? This bat's seen better days." Frank holds up the battered, blood-stained weapon to prove his point, it has started to splinter in several parts and likely wouldn't hold together much longer. Jack finds himself wondering just how many zombies he had whacked into paste with the weapon as he gestures to the fire axe attached to his belt. Giving a nod, Frank takes it from him, giving it a few quick test swings to get used to the weight of it.
"All right. Follow me." Frank takes point quickly as the group begins to descend down the stairs of the arena, cutting apart two zombies with ease and slamming his fist into a third, sending it crumpling to the ground. Jack follows the aging photojournalist quickly, watching as he rips through the zombies with an ease that could only come from prior experience -- a LOT of experience. In no time they find themselves at the staircase leading down to the bunker. "So that's it, huh? Looks safe enough." Lulu remarks. "Yep. Come on, we'd better get down there." Jack replies, deciding to take point this time as they descend the stairs, picking up the pace as the doors begin to close. They make it through just in time to find that, thankfully, they were not the only ones left alive, as the entrance to the bunker is filled with survivors.
Another set of doors open soon after, and an older man wearing a Fortune City security guard uniform steps out, allowing them access to the bunker. The mass of survivors begin to enter, Jack, Frank, Lulu and Alexandra following suit, though the security guard stops Frank at the door. Jack immediately stops and turns around, though Frank merely waves him on before engaging the guard in conversation, stating that he'd be along soon enough.
"All right. Where should we put Alexandra?" Jack asks as he enters the bunker along with the other two bunnies. "Ah, let's take her into that room. Then we can find a first aid kit." Jack walks to the door that Lulu points out, allowing her to open the door for him before placing Alexandra on a small cot set up within. "I'm going to find some medical supplies. What about you?" Lulu asks.
Jack Krysta
Health: 95%, bandaged bite wound on left arm Fatigue: 40% Entourage: Nobody currently Inventory: Pack of cigarettes, lighter, cell phone (100% battery charge remaining), envelope containing $50,000 in prize money
A) Go with Lulu, perhaps they can get to know each other a bit better as they search for medical supplies
B) Stay with Alexandra, she probably doesn't want to be left alone right now in her current condition
C) Go find Frank, maybe he has finally finished talking with the security guard
D) There was a familiar looking redhead seated in the security room when Jack and Lulu passed by, maybe she knows a bit more about what's going on
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Post by Tbone on Sept 18, 2012 17:27:00 GMT -6
D for me.
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Post by Tbone110 The Amurican Bastard on Sept 18, 2012 18:01:03 GMT -6
Disregard my previous vote, I say B instead.
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Post by Rai Chiller on Sept 18, 2012 18:54:56 GMT -6
Yeah, gonna go B. She needs your ping- I mean comfort right now
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Post by Song Nai on Sept 18, 2012 20:39:49 GMT -6
B
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Post by AceTheMercenary on Sept 28, 2012 0:45:32 GMT -6
"I'll stay here with Alexandra and make sure she's okay. Try to hurry back though, all right?" Jack replies. "All right. Try to keep her awake, if you can. She could possibly have a concussion." Lulu remarks before promptly breezing out of the room, the heavy iron door shutting loudly behind her. "Well, looks like it's just the two of us." Jack says, walking the short distance back to Alexandra's cot. "Mm. Am I really that beat up?" Alexandra asks. "Well, I'm no doctor, but you seem like you hit your head pretty hard. That warrants attention." Jack replies.
"Whatever you say. Sit down, there's no reason for you to keep standing up like that," Alexandra pats the edge of her cot, which Jack sits down on. "Did you enjoy competing in Terror Is Reality?" She asks. Jack gives her a shrug in response. "A little, I guess. Aside from the fact that I now need Zombrex every twenty-four hours, it was kinda fun. I seriously doubt the zombies are still able to be saved, so they've got to be used for something, but... It's still kind of scary to think you just went out and murdered a lot of things that used to be people." He replies.
"I see. I attended a CURE rally a time or two. I don't agree with everything they push, but I have to say Terror Is Reality is barbaric. It's good to know you're at least a little remorseful about getting caught up in it, like I am. I never would have decided to work here at the event, but the money was too good to pass up." Alexandra explains. The two sit there in silence for a brief moment.
"So... This 'Chuck Greene' guy that did this to you..." Jack starts somewhat awkwardly, it was no doubt a sore subject at this point. "What exactly happened?" Alexandra gives him a confused look. "I thought I told you? He knocked me unconscious and after that I don't know." Jack shakes his head, getting back to his feet and looking down at her. "No, that's not what I meant. Do you know where exactly he was going? Or did he say anything that would give you a clue?" Alexandra averts her eyes for a moment, thinking hard before returning her gaze. "No, not that I can recall... Katey was all he had left. Without her, he just...snapped. I just happened to be the unlucky person who -- wait..." Jack gives her an expectant look as her expression changes to one of revelation. "Just before I lost consciousness, I recall him saying something about finding Zombrex. His daughter was infected. Maybe he thinks she's still alive?"
"It's possible. Listen, I know it probably doesn't mean much, but if I run into the guy, I'll make him pay." Jack remarks. Alexandra's expression then changes to one of worry. "Don't do anything rash on my behalf, Jack. He's probably not even alive anymore. Just because he killed zombies in Terror Is Reality doesn't mean he's an expert on them. And he didn't have his wits about him at the time..."
"Doesn't matter. I don't have any sympathy for assholes who beat women, regardless of the circumstances." Jack replies stubbornly, crossing his arms for emphasis. Alexandra opens her mouth to say more, but at that point the door swings open, and Lulu rushes back in, her arms filled with medical supplies and Frank in tow. "Thank god, you found something." Jack remarks, but Lulu ignores him for the moment as she glances about the room, before pointing at a TV hanging on the wall. "There it is, Frank. Turn it on while I patch Alexandra up." Jack watches as the older man jogs across the room, pressing the power button on the television and turning up the volume before quickly cycling through the channels.
"What's going on?" Jack asks, taking a few steps back and giving Lulu some room to work. "They've started reporting the outbreak on TV. Hopefully they'll have some kind of rescue underway. Just listen." Lulu replies, not looking up at him. Jack turns his attention to the television as Frank finally stops on Channel Six Action News. Immediately a rather attractive Asian girl appears on the screen, microphone in hand.
"...started in the Fortune City Arena, the site of the most recent 'Terror Is Reality' pay-per-view event. Information from a behind the scenes source reveals that this outbreak was not an accident, but rather an act of terrorism. This shocking footage was obtained from a source inside the Fortune City Arena. It may be upsetting to some viewers."
Jack crosses his arms once again as the TV switches to a black-and-white feed, likely originating from a security camera. A man in a tattered long-sleeve shirt, hair a greasy mess of dreadlocks, skulks up a small ramp and proceeds to plant an explosive on the zombie holding pen entrance before walking back and detonating it, allowing the hordes of carnivorous monsters to free themselves before fleeing the scene as quickly as he had arrived.
"Holy shit..." Jack remarks at the same time as Frank. The two exchange a quick glance between themselves before gluing their eyes back on the television screen. "Initial reports suggest that the man in the video is a member of the protest group CURE. Authorities speculate that CURE was attempting to discredit Terror is Reality or to shock Americans out of what CURE sees as their complacency. No statement of responsibility has yet been received. This horrible act of terror appears to be an escalation of violence for the protest group. This is Rebecca Chang, reporting live from the Fortune City Hotel, in the heart of Fortune City." Frank switches the TV off as the scene changes to a different reporter by the name of Liliana Esperanza, face a blank slate.
"In the heart of Fortune City... Does that mean that reporter's out here in all of this somewhere too?" Jack asks, bringing a hand to his face thoughtfully. "Sounds like it. It looks like I've got my first lead. This could be my lucky break after all." Frank replies, quite a bit of eagerness lacing the words as he spoke them. "Think we should go find her then, Frank? I want to figure out what's going on here as much as you do now that I've seen that tape." Jack asks, turning to face the aging photojournalist fully at this point. Frank scratches the back of his head, as if considering his offer. "Hmm. Usually I work alone, but it's not every day I find a survivor who actually wants to help me with something. And you're a fan of mine, after all..." Jack smirks a bit, not understanding why he was in such deep thought over such a minor thing. The fame and fortune must have gone to his head.
"All right, kid. How about it? Want to give old Frank West some help on this story?" Frank finally relents, his hand falling reflexively back onto his camera. "Work with a hero of mine? Do you even really need to ask?" Jack replies sarcastically. Frank smiles a bit himself, before reaching into his coat pocket and holding out an earpiece for Jack to take. "What's this for?" Jack asks, placing it securely on his ear. "It's a transceiver, so we can keep in touch. A hands-free one. You have no idea how much easier that part is going to make things..." Jack watches in amusement as a stricken look appears on Frank's face, as if he were recalling some painful memory.
Or multiple ones. It was hard to tell.
"Anyway, there's something I need to do before we get started. I'm all out of Zombrex because I didn't have time to get some after the show. The girl who gave me the transceiver also gave me an idea of where I can get some more. And I think we'd all be better off if you and I both keep some on hand." Frank explains, much to Jack's astonishment. His book certainly hadn't mentioned anything about him being infected.
"You take Zombrex too?" Frank opens his mouth to reply, but at that point a rather feminine voice chimes in through both of their transceivers, followed by Jack rushing to turn down the volume on his as it was on full blast. "Hey Frank, I just saw a couple of extra things on the monitors that I thought I'd tell you about."
"What extra things?" Jack questions, adjusting the transceiver on his ear again. The line is silent for a moment before the voice returns. "Who is this?" It asks. "I'm Jack Krysta. A Terror Is Reality competitor. Or at least I was." Jack replies. "Oh! You were the one that came in with Frank West and those two women, correct? I'm sorry. You haven't met me yet, but my name is Stacey Forsythe. I told Frank I'd watch the monitors and let him know what's happening. Since he must have gave you his spare transceiver, does that mean you'll be going with him?" Stacey replies.
"Yeah. That's right. What's happening?" Jack asks. "Well, I can see that news reporter here on the monitors. It looks like she's still in the hotel, but I can't tell exactly where. There's also what seems to be a female police officer dragging a female into an adult entertainment store on the Strip. Lastly there appears to be what looks like someone cooking in Cucina Donnacci's in the Food Court. Maybe you should consider checking it out." Stacey reports, her end of the call going silent. "Thanks for the info, Stacey. We're going." Jack replies, before turning back to Frank.
Jack Krysta
Health: 95%, bandaged bite wound on left arm Fatigue: 30% Entourage: Nobody currently Inventory: Pack of cigarettes, lighter, cell phone (91% battery charge remaining), envelope containing $50,000 in prize money
Current time in the CYOA: 5:00 AM (17 hours until next Zombrex injection needed)
A) Frank is correct, there's no reason not to have Zombrex on hand at the moment, given that it's going to be a long wait before they can even consider getting out of Fortune City
B) According to Stacey there is quite a bit going on in Fortune City at the moment, perhaps they should split up to cover more ground as Zombrex can always be gotten later
If B, where should Jack go:
1) The hotel, Frank seems quite eager to talk to this news reporter in Fortune City and there is a chance she could move elsewhere if they stop to do anything else
2) The adult entertainment store on the Strip, this sounds a little like police brutality and there's no reason to leave someone to suffer under it
3) Cucina Donnacci's, someone's obviously a few screws short of a workbench if they're trying to cook at a time like this, though it could just be another survivor requiring assistance
Note: For the simple purpose of helping out both the voters and myself, I have decided to break away from the establishment somewhat and set Frank's Zombrex time to be around the same as Jack's, so we don't have unnecessary random moments of them both scrambling about looking for the stuff cluttering things up. I've also added a time slot which will help us all keep track of when it will be needed.
Time will likely pass somewhat quickly these next couple of updates, but it will by no means be the norm, so try to bear with me on that. Thanks.
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