Zombie Apocalypse - Game thread

[variol son]

Survival of the fittest. The few survivors of the plague have gone through a trial by fire. This might be something about their past, their physique, or an ability to adapt to the devastation of society. To reflect this, all characters gain 1 point of which they can increase one ability (attack, defense or investigate) or increase their hit points.

Do we include which particular stat we want to increase with our next turn?

[I'm Murrin]

Miles:
Put down your weapon or I will fire.

[Loredoctor]

Survival of the fittest. The few survivors of the plague have gone through a trial by fire. This might be something about their past, their physique, or an ability to adapt to the devastation of society. To reflect this, all characters gain 1 point of which they can increase one ability (attack, defense or investigate) or increase their hit points.

Do we include which particular stat we want to increase with our next turn?

Yes, but the change applies before I process turn 5.

[Loredoctor]

Turn Five

Special Events: A severe storm has hit Watch city. It limits visibility and floods most streets. For this turn only, no character may move more than one zone (even in vehicles).

The Creeping Abomination continues to gather undead and organic matter into its shuddering mass. It crawls across the University grounds into the Church.

Turn Five Summary:

Johnny Bravo moves into the CBD, and discovers sewers where no undead lurk. This allows him some protection from the zombie hordes. Therefore, the undead fail to find him.

Jove Jones gets into her police car and waits for everyone else in the hospital to join her. She then drives off to the Military Base, but the severe storm limits her driving and so she is caught with everyone else in the West Industrial Zone. A vast number of attack her and she loses two hit points! She is near death.

Bernard Black leaves the Docks for the Military Base, but the storm limits his driving and so he is caught in the West Industrial Zone. However, he finds a Revolver lying on top of a welding kit. The undead attack and he loses a hit point. He is near death.

Alex Western searches the Hospital but finds nothing. He leaves with Jove Jones and is caught in the West Industrial Zone. He manages to escape the vast number of undead. The undead seem to avoid for some strange reason.

Cpt. Miles successfully attacks Manny Cestus with his M-16, inflicting 2 points of damage. The undead fail to harm him.

Manny Cestus uses narcotics and throws a grenade at Cpt. Miles. The grenade lands near Miles and explodes, inflicting 1 point of damage. The undead fail to find him.

Joe Marlowe leaves the CBD and reaches the Stadium during the severe storm. He finds a lawnmower. The undead fail to find him.

Jarek Mace moves to Downtown but fails to find anything there. The undead fail to attack him.

Dr Neville moves with Jove Jones and is caught in the West Industrial Zone. He fails to find anything in the zone. He encounters a large horde of undead, and is injured - losing a hit point! The doctor is near death.

Sgt. Null continues to do nothing, but the undead fail to attack him.


Special Rewards: Cpt. Miles, Manny, Bernard Black and Jack Frost all receive 5xp for roleplaying.

[Warmark]

Bernard Black i see you are look rather poorly, Never Fear though! I have a First Aid Kit! I would bt willing to trade one of the uses for your revolver.

[Bernard Black]

Bernard Black i see you are look rather poorly, Never Fear though! I have a First Aid Kit! I would bt willing to trade one of the uses for your revolver.

Thanks, but I have one of my own. Make it a bottle of Merlot and you've got a deal.

Hmm, on second thought... The revolver isn't gonna do me much good. I couldn't hit a building, never mind a zombie.

Maybe...I should shoot you...

Meh, you know what? I need to discuss it with my...er...Cabinet, and get back to you.

[Loredoctor]

Note that several characters are wounded. If that character has a first aid kit he or she can automatically heal themselves - one hit point for each use of a kit, as many times a turn as they have first aid kits and uses. So if character A has two first aid kits, he or she could heal four points. Further, a kit can be used on another character provided that they are in the same zone or will be next turn.

[[Syl]]

Manny:
Yeah. I wish I had me one of them. No surprise, I see privileged soljerboy there has one. Me, I got nothin'. No grenade and no drugs, not that they did me any good. Guess I'm f***ed.

Then again... *caresses his knife, checking the blade's sharpness on the back of his arm* You can't use one of 'em and fight me at the same time, can ya, boy? Maybe you're as f***ed as I am

And if not, I hope those things eat you slowly, ***********. Though if they feed off brains, you wouldn't even make an appetizer. But nah, stupid grunt would rather fight me than them.

What, you scared, soljerboy? Give me that gun, then, and I'll fight 'em off while you run home to mama... or whatever's left of her.

[Erkirithi-Sha]

Maybe if I can use these loudspeakers at the stadium, I can get help from other survivors . . .

"If anyone can hear me, my name is Joe Marlowe. I'm heading for the Army Base. Any survivors try and rendeveaux there. We can find weapons and supplies. Repeat, any survivors meet me at the Army Base. If you can hear . . . "

[Loredoctor]

Turn Six

Special Events: Undead Swarm! The cause of the plague has transformed and has infected the bodies of the dead. Across Watch City, more undead rise from the ground, out of crypts, hospitals and homes. Every zone has an increase of undead.

The Creeping Abomination moves into the Stadium, slithering silently as it draws organic matter into its mass of fused undead.

Turn Summary:
Alex Western uses the Surgeon's Tools to heal everyone in the West Industrial Zone. He regains one hit point. He is swarmed by zombies as he rushes to heal everyone, but an aura of power holds them at bay; it's as though he is drawing upon the number of undead to defend himself.

Captain Miles shoots at Manny Cestus. The undead fail to reach him.

Manny Cestus thrusts a knife into his heart and collapses to the ground dead.

Johnny Bravo finds an Expensive Suit in the CBD. The undead fail to injure him.

Jove Jones does nothing. She is healed by Alex Western. The undead fail to injure him.

Dr Neville does nothing. He is also healed by Alex Western. The undead fail to injure him.

Joe Marlowe moves into Bunker C, narrowly escaping the Creeping Abomination. Before he escapes, he discovers Gym Equipment which he uses to build his body up; the training helps him reach to level two. A large number of undead swarm the sea mechanic and inflict one wound on him. Also, he has lost his expensive suit!

Bernard Black goes on a voting campaign, but realises that the Undead aren't eligible to vote, and so he opens fire on them (damn Tories!). He fails to kill a single zombie. However, Alex Western heals all of his wounds.

Jarek Mace moves into Bunker B, but on the way he investigates Downtown. He finds Porno DVDs (unique item!) - the last remaining set in Watch City. The undead fail to reach him, as he protected within the bunker.

Jack Frost attacks twice this turn, burning many undead (six). The undead attack and he loses one hit point.

Rewards: Joe Marlow reaches experience level 2 and now has 1 point to increase his Defense, Attack or Investigate ratings, or to increase the maximum number of hit points.

[Bernard Black]

Damnation! I didn't hit a single one?! I knew I shouldn't have quit paintballing. I need the practice.

[variol son]

Alex Western rubbed the handle of the knife sticking out of his belt as he moved purposefully around the factory from door to door, checking the barracades he and Captain Jones had constructed.

He would have liked a more effective weapon, a gun perhaps, even though he knew it didn't really matter. The more zombies they encountered, the safer he seemed to be. This hadn't surprised him as much as it should have - he had always known that he had a gift, but he distrusted it. The power was useful, yes, but he couldn't help but wondering if it wouldn't one day simply stop.

Still, his very presence seemed to have driven the undead out of the plastics factory long enough for him to help the cop block all the exits, leaving their rather motley crew safe for the moment. She was upstairs in what had once been the factory's staff room at the moment, resting. She had almost died last night after all, and even though she was well out of danger, she was tired. Western was happy to let her rest - they would all need her strength tomorrow.

Dr Neville was there with her. Having treated her wounds he was now bandaging up the politician. Western smiled grimly to himself as he threw himself against the last door with all his might and nodded in satisfaction when it didn't budge. Black or whatever his name was had meant well he was sure, but he could have killed at least one zombie with his machine gun instead of just giving himself whiplash.

As he started back up the stairs to let the others know that everything was still secure he looked out into the street, now filled with undead. They had to get out of this place, Western knew, and quickly. Sure, he might be able to keep the zombies away, but they were the least of their worries.

He had heard the rumour from other survivors fleeing Watch University and the Cathedral. The Abomination was coming, and he was no match for it.

[Bernard Black]

Out Of Character: Nice RP-ing, VS. .......woah, abbreviations galore...

His wounds skilfully tended, Bernard Black did all he could do at this point: sit and watch those around him. After being waylaid on his way across the city, he'd found himself holed up with this bunch of psychopaths and degenerates. Never a man of action, Black had been swept along by the confident field experience of the police officer and the more unorthodox but somehow equally compelling lead of the man he'd learned was called Western.

Western seemed an odd one. He prowled around restlessly, always checking and re-checking the barricades - and fingering his knife all the while, as though he knew how useless it would be against the undead. Black himself had discovered that inefficacy himself; he may have been a poor marksman, but he could have sworn he'd hit at least a couple with his revolver...yet none had fallen. The gun sat heavily in Black's jacket pocket, swatting at his right hip whenever he moved - a dead weight, useless and hollow in the hands of a peace-loving politician.

Politician, Black snorted to himself. I'm no more a politician than a marksman. What the hell have I done with my life? Bernardette - an unfortunate coincidence if ever there was one - would have despaired to hear her husband's thoughts at this moment. Ever the optimist, she refused to allow him any self-doubt. In her absence, all Black could do was numb the horror with drink; in her prescence all he could do was numb the horror with drink. He sank to the floor, back to a barricade, and splayed his legs in front of him. The unfinished bottle of cheap Merlot in his left jacket pocket balanced the weight of the gun in his right. His hand strayed continuously to the bottle, as though that could prevail where a gun could not - as though it could make the walking dead disappear - but he might need its consolation later.

Later? he scoffed. Who says there's going to be a 'later'? He reached for the bottle, drew it from his pocket and flung it to his lips-- but it was empty. When had he drunk that? Ah, hell. There was nothing to be done about it now.

That just left the gun. In a flash of sober lucidity, he realised he was as good as dead with or without the gun; whereas if he stuck with someone who could use the damn thing, he might at least have a chance. The ominous Western certainly looked as though he wanted a heftier weapon than his knife, but there was a haunted look to his eyes that Black found unsettling. It was a look Black occasionally feared his own eyes were beginning to show...

The police officer then. Trained with firearms, presumably, and surely a more stable proposition than Western. But Black felt he needed some form of defence for himself, however futile; as a symbol of defiance, if nothing more.

"Oi! Ahoy there, Captain. Ahoy! I've got a deal for you, and you'd better take it, 'cause I pay your taxes. I mean my taxes. I pay my taxes and your salary. In fact, take the deal and I'll cut your taxes when I'm in office! I'll cut 'em to zero! So...here. Have the gun, and I'll take that crappy stick off your hands. Can't hit a damn thing with the gun, but I can swing a bat as well as the next man... Well...probably..."

Out Of Character: What do you say, Jove? My gun for your nightstick?

[Mistress Cathy]

Jove Jones came out of her haze. The last thing she remembered was a zombie crashing through the window of her police vehicle.

She was sore and bruised and it hurt to move.

She spotted Alex checking and re-checking barrades that he must have made himself. Not bad, from the looks of them.

She looked around her and assumed that they were still in the Industrial area. She had to get to the military zone. There had to be more weapons there - weapons, ammunition, gasoline, food. The police department had offered no weapons or body armor. She felt severely hampered by her lack of firearm. Even the police vehicle had been without the standard rifle.

Futhering her inspection of her surroundings, she noticed a man in a suit eyeballing her and looking a little lost. Poor guy, Jove thought.

Alex came over and checked her bandages again. She wanted to thank him because she knew it must have been him that had healed her wounds but she could not form the words. She could not see the doctor anywhere about.

Alex Western was a good sort and she felt she could depend on him. Alex also had something about him that Jove could not quite put her finger on. Zombies were somehow repelled by Alex. That was good. It helped her defend them a little better. But she still needed something better than a nightstick.

Hell, she needed to do a better job of defending them, period! Her first contact with zombies and they damn near killed her!

She looked over at the suit again and he was eyeing her nightstick. He was asking her something.....

"What do you say, Jove? My gun for your nightstick?"

"Do you have ammunition?"

[variol son]

Western heard the politician shouting as he came up stairs to the factory's staff room. As he entered he noticed the empty wine bottle on the floor. He was drunk again. Not that Western really cared. We all have our vices, he told himself. Besides, he wouldn't mind getting trashed right now. Being out of it might make this whole nightmare easier to deal with.

He shook himself out of his daydream to hear the politicain offer the cop his gun. "What do you say, Jove? My gun for your nightstick?" Captain Jones was still a little drowsy, but she finally caught on to what he was offering.

"Do you have ammunition?"

Western raised an eyebrow. He hadn't thought of the politican as the type to put the good of the group over his own needs. I guess I should pay more attention to what people are really like. Like I have the time.

He'd wanted the gun for himself - anything more useful than the bloody knife would be good, but wasn't surprised that he hadn't been offered the weapon. Hell, if it were me I wouldn't have given a gun to an occultist who looked like they had been running from zombies for seven years instead of seven days.

"So what now?" He realised that Dr Neville had returned from wherever he'd been and that all three were staring at him.

"The barricades are holding, so we're safe for now. We'll have to leave soon though, before the streets get too crowded." The doctor frowned at the prospect of abandoning their haven, but Captain Jones nodded in agreement.

"Get some sleep" he told them. "We leave just after dark."

[I'm Murrin]

Warily, Miles approached the form that hunched in the corner of the supply room. No movement. Closer, he saw the dark pool that spread across the floor. The hilt of a knife protruded from the civilian's chest.
"Damnit."
He bent down to check the dead man's pockets for anything useful. As he reached for the bloodstained coat, the corpse twitched. Miles jerked back.
The body had begun to raise itself up from its postion on the floor, scraping its hands across the concrete. A brief burst of fire from the soldier's weapon, and it collapsed wetly to the ground.
Keeping his gun pointed, he took a step towards the body; but before he could move any closer, a loud clatter came from outside the building. Running quickly back to the open door, Miles took position beside the frame, then peered out into the yard.
"Oh, shit."

[Bernard Black]

"Do you have ammunition?"

With a shrug, Bernard Black began rummaging in his pockets. "Got some somewhere... What did I do with those damn pointy bullet things? Erm...they're here--no, those are my humbugs. Erm... Aha! Here!"

From the back pocket of his scuffed slacks, Black pulled out a clear polythene bag containing a clump of small bullets. The bag ripped as he wrenched it free, and the bullets cascaded to the floor with a sound like...like a... Dramatic similes escaped Bernard, and with another shrug, he gestured loosely at the spreading mess of bullets.

"Ammo," he muttered. "Get yer fresh ammo here, a whole pound of ammo for just one nightstick."

With a forced laugh and a despondent glance at the empty wine bottle that lay morosely on the floor, a rolling bullet clinking gently against its side, Black thrust the revolver at the police officer. Just make sure you do a better job with this than I did, he growled inwardly.

"Alright, officer Jones. I'm in your hands. So to speak." A sly smirk, which rapidly vanished when Jove looked unimpressed. "Now, I guess we have to leave this nice little safehouse sooner or later. Wherever you're going, I'm going too, whether you like it or not. I gave you my gun so you can protect my pansy ass."

He thought for a moment.

"And you know, I might not be any good with firearmerarmers..." -he frowned fuzzily- "....guns....but I know this city like the back of my hand. Maybe I didn't get many votes, but at least some good came out of ten years of campaigning. I've pounded every street in the city over and over, and I know places to look for useful...stuff. I know the...the...crannies. I can help. If you help me."

A swift glance at Western, then: "And you just keep these barrier thingies up, funny guy."

Belligerence; not a good substitute for competence, but it was all Bernard had...

[Mistress Cathy]

Jove watched as the suit fumbled for the bullets. She could see that he was uncomfortable with the gun and wanted to be rid of it. She was more than happy to take if off of his hands. The nightstick offered too little protection. She preferred to taking out criminals from 100 yards away with a rifle over hand-to-hand combat. Problem was, after the bullets were gone, then what? Without her nightstick, she would certainly be more vulnerable.

Yet, she was better at defending herself unarmed than the suit would be with a tank! She was trained for high-stress and physically demanding situations. He was not.

"Ammo," he muttered. "Get yer fresh ammo here, a whole pound of ammo for just one nightstick."

Jove chuckled. He was funny.

She could almost feel what he was thinking - he was giving up his only form of protection to a person he felt would do a better job.

"I will do my best, sir," Jove said as he thrust the revolver at her. She took the revolver.

She pulled out her nightstick from her thick leather utility belt and handed it to him. "Keep this handy - and make sure you hit the right thing. It won't kill anything, but it will hurt them and give you a second to escape."

"Alright, officer Jones. I'm in your hands. So to speak." A sly smirk, which rapidly vanished when Jove looked unimpressed. "Now, I guess we have to leave this nice little safehouse sooner or later. Wherever you're going, I'm going too, whether you like it or not. I gave you my gun so you can protect my pansy ass."

Curious. What real man would admit to being less brave than a woman, even under these circumstances?

"And you know, I might not be any good with firearmerarmers..." -he frowned fuzzily- "....guns....but I know this city like the back of my hand. Maybe I didn't get many votes, but at least some good came out of ten years of campaigning. I've pounded every street in the city over and over, and I know places to look for useful...stuff. I know the...the...crannies. I can help. If you help me."

Ah, yes. Jove recognized him now. Black was his name, if she remembered correctly. Poltiician.

Help him with what? she wondered.

"Mr. Black," Jove began, "you are welcome to join us. Safety in numbers, and all that."

Black took the nightstick, looking relieved.

Jove noticed that Dr. Neville had returned.

"So what now?"

"The barricades are holding, so we're safe for now. We'll have to leave soon though, before the streets get too crowded." The doctor frowned at the prospect of abandoning their haven, but Captain Jones nodded in agreement.

Alex was right. Jove had to recover as soon as possible so that they could move on.

"Get some sleep" he told them. "We leave just after dark."

"Let's take turns on watch."

[Bernard Black]

Black gripped the nightstick dejectedly. He felt safer with the gun out of his hands, but the prospect of having to get close enough to the undead to use the stick was less than appealing. Jumbled images of clawing fingers, hooked like talons, and gaping mouths, some he vaguely recognised, floated across his mind's eye. The zombies had nearly got him once; he didn't want to get that close again.

With a resigned sigh, he turned to Jones, Neville and, more reluctantly, Western. He heard Jones suggest taking turns on watch, but decided to leave the organisation of that to the professionals. Black had no combat skills, but his eyes were as good as anyone's; if the others wanted him, they knew where to find him. He wasn't about to embarrass himself further by presenting himself for rejection as a watchman. He was still trying to shrug off the flush of shame he'd felt when Jones had given him a curious, apparaising look, as though wondering at his yielding to her expertise.

But first, he had something else on his mind.

"Okay then, ladies and gents. We're moving soon, right? Where do you propose? My guess would be go where the guns are. Am I close?"

[Mistress Cathy]

Jove leaned over and whispered in Black's ear......