Zombie Apocalypse - Game thread

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Bernard Black
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Post by Bernard Black »

It's ok, take as long as you need. I was just messing about.
Oh. Bugger.
Bernard Black
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Post by Bernard Black »

"Oh Jove, my love, I fear we will never have the chance to express our true feelings..."









...were the words Bernard scribbled on the back of a page torn from his Watch City A to Z, while driving to the university. He continued:

"I begin to feel that Watch City has been sucked into some form of time dilation anomaly. I now have a waist-length beard and severe B.O., yet the silhouette of the university on the horizon grows no closer. Not a day passes - or fails to pass - that I do not mourn the tone of our last encounter. How I long to be taken in your arms and feel the frightening warmth of your aggressive and somewhat masculine embrace.

"That day you forced me to the ground and seized my weapon was the happiest of my life. I yearn to relive those few, heady seconds of sweaty grappling.

"I fear, however, that there is no escape from the infinitely expanded sense of time that has consumed us all. I can only drive on, and hope that one day, before my liver gives out, I can exchange acerbic insults with you again.

"Farewell, darling Jove. Perhaps forever."

With a resigned sigh, Bernard stuffed the note into an empty whiskey bottle, wrapped the bottle in a clump of wiry hair torn from his vast beard, and tossed the package out of the car window. He could only pray that the message would somehow reach the woman who had tormented him in his dreams...and his waking hours...and his memories...and...

"DAMN!" he yelled, trying to brake, but unable to halt the car in this time-dilated space. "What the hell was I thinking?!"

But the message was gone, far out of reach. Now he could only pray that it would never reach that psychotic bitch...
Oh. Bugger.
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Mistress Cathy
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

Jove awoke with something cold nudging her back. She sat up and noticed Alex and Lawnmower man asleep. She felt like she had slept weeks and weeks. She felt as if she had been in the Twilight Zone television show where the world had stopped and only she was moving.

She looked down on the ground and noticed a brown bottle. As she picked it up, she saw the whiskey label - or what was left of it. It looked as if it had rolled across the entire Watch City. There was something inside it.

A note? I thought that was only used for deserted islands.

She opened the bottle and shook out the note. In the dim light, she couldn't read the message very well. It was written over the pages of a book called Watch City A-Z.

The handwriting looked like it belonged to a serial killer.

As she read, the look on her face turn to puzzlement. What the hell...? She read her name - the note was written to her.

But, who was the note from?
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Erkirithi-Sha
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Post by Erkirithi-Sha »

Joe woke up. The haze had been cleared from his mind. He knew what he had to do.

Rushing to the roof of the prison he passed by the seemingly immobile zombies. Down below, in the streets, he saw a car moving along trailing an immense mass of beard. The beard had grown so that it rivalled even the mass of the Creeping Abomintaion. But this no longer mattered to Joe.

Once upon the roof, he reached into his pocket and opened a small box. From within the box he produced a great rocket ship, which he set upon the concrete. Climbing in, he put on a top hat, and lit a pipe.

"Here's to you boys and girls," Joe said as he lifted his pipe in salute. Blasting off into space in his Rocket Ship, Joe was soon soaring for the heavens and many illustrious, though faintly repetitive and dull adventures.
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I'm Murrin
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Post by I'm Murrin »

Grrr. Arrg.
Bernard Black
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Post by Bernard Black »

Murrin wrote:Grrr. Arrg.
Argh! Zombie! :hairs:
Oh. Bugger.
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Post by Father Stoobins »

"Unghh......"

I wonder where the nearest sandwich shop is from here

"UNGH!"

Damn, but this irressitable urge to moan and eat people is getting tiresome! What I wouldn't do for a pastrami on rye...

Jack moved off to look for his next meal....
I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book. Grouch Marx
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Loredoctor
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Post by Loredoctor »

Montressor wrote:Joe woke up. The haze had been cleared from his mind. He knew what he had to do.

Rushing to the roof of the prison he passed by the seemingly immobile zombies. Down below, in the streets, he saw a car moving along trailing an immense mass of beard. The beard had grown so that it rivalled even the mass of the Creeping Abomintaion. But this no longer mattered to Joe.

Once upon the roof, he reached into his pocket and opened a small box. From within the box he produced a great rocket ship, which he set upon the concrete. Climbing in, he put on a top hat, and lit a pipe.

"Here's to you boys and girls," Joe said as he lifted his pipe in salute. Blasting off into space in his Rocket Ship, Joe was soon soaring for the heavens and many illustrious, though faintly repetitive and dull adventures.
Montressor has found the Heinrich Rocket and has won the game. :lol:
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Mistress Cathy
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

:lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
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Vadhaka
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Post by Vadhaka »

:LOLS:
Death To All Fanatics!
Bernard Black
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Post by Bernard Black »

Mike flinched and rose to his feet as he caught a...a footstep? No. Nothing lived here. He was the only source of movement on the entire forsaken ball of rock, he knew. Some of the ancient, degraded records hinted that there may once have been a human civilisation on this world, but no-one really believed it. Jason had, but that was a long time ago, and it had cost him everything.

Mike shrugged awkwardly, pushing the image of his brother's face from his mind. Jason's crusade had finished him, and now it threatened to consume Mike too. The difference was Mike had nowhere near Jason's level of conviction. Truth be told, he had no conviction at all. The bonds of blood were all that kept him ferreting around in these ruins; he cursed those bonds every waking moment.

Dropping to his knees once more, he examined the cracked surface before him. It may once have been a den or hive of some sort - perhaps a home for the Abomination. So little was known about the monstrous mass that almost any theory was plausible. Other creatures built lairs for themselves; why should the Abomination not do the same? Still, it didn't fit with the monster's nature, as far as human science had been able to determine it. We know it cannibalised its own kind until it was large enough to engulf an entire continent... But it's never shown any sign of settling into a pattern or a territory... Other than its current enforced slumber, of course. Once all others of its kind had been absorbed, the Abomination had settled itself in the centre of one landmass - a landmass it almost completely covered - and seemingly subsided, perhaps to rest or perhaps...to wait. By that time, humanity had located this barren rock - or rather, Jason and his crusaders had found it, believing the human race had once lived here - and devised a way to sedate the Abomination. Now it lay, restless but trapped in slumber, only miles from Mike's location. Its presence as a looming shadow on the horizon left a weight on Mike's mind that drove him almost to fevered distraction. He had to hurry. He had to finish his study and leave, before he cracked under the pressure, like this concrete had cracked under the Abomination's grotesque bulk.

To hell with Jason's crazy theories; Mike had done all that could be asked of a brother. He had come here and endured the presence of that thing. No more could be expected of him. No more. He rose again and turned to head back to the transport - and halted as he heard another footstep. Yes, definitely a footstep this time. Who...? Or... No, not...the Abomination. No. He clenched his teeth to stifle a rising cry, and forced himself to glance to the horizon, knowing he would-- No. The enormous bulk had not moved. So what made...?

Another footstep, and this time Mike whirled toward it, brandishing his fists as though they could stave off the thing. What he saw, though, was not a thing. It was...a man. Barely. The figure was almost cocooned in matted grey hair from its head, its face, its arms... It may have been an intelligent lifeform once, but now it was...something else. Its eyes met Mike's, and for a moment he caught a glimmer there - a glimmer that reminded him of that flash of hope he had seen in Jason's eyes when... He clenched his teeth again, and this time a snarl escaped as he shoved Jason's face from his mind.

The unkempt, feral figure approached, slowly, its shuffling steps producing more of those scuffed footfalls. As it neared, it began patting its body as though searching for something. With a jolt of realisation, Mike recognised that the man-creature was wearing scraps of something that might once have been a fine suit. Abruptly, the man lunged forward and seized Mike's upper arms, and the animal urgency of his grip threatened to splinter bone. His mouth worked, dryly, silently, then gave vent to a parched croak that Mike recognised, with a shudder, as archaic human speech.

"Been...here so long... I..."

Mike gaped, frozen in revulsion as the ragged man struggled to form words to express the dire need that his eyes screamed so clearly. Barely breathing now, his lungs seemingly rigid with alarm, Mike forced a nod. Yes, ancient one. I can give you what you want. He worked his right arm free of the man's grip and reached for the small gun he carried for self-defence. Dear god, Jason was right. There were people here once. This man...might be all that's left. But...I can't deny him this. If he's lived this long - lived here with the Abomination for so many centuries - I can't possibly refuse him. I'm human too.

Raising the gun until it touched the man's cheek, Mike rested his finger on the trigger and offered the best farewell he could. "I'm sorry, old man. We didn't know..." But as he began to squeeze, a wizened old hand reached up and clasped his own hand, and the pistol within it. The old man's mouth worked one more time. One final message from the doomed past:

"...you...got a drink? Th' bitch never...did reply to my..." His ancient eyes fell, and rested on the gun at last. "Oh," he croaked. "Bollocks."
Oh. Bugger.
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Loredoctor
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Post by Loredoctor »

:lol: :lol: :lol:

Brilliant!

God, I miss this game.
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Bernard Black
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Post by Bernard Black »

The presence of a Michael in the post-(zombie)apocalyptic future is purely coincidental, I assure you. :biggrin:
Oh. Bugger.
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Loredoctor
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Post by Loredoctor »

Bernard Black wrote:The presence of a Michael in the post-(zombie)apocalyptic future is purely coincidental, I assure you. :biggrin:
Damn. ;)
Waddley wrote:your Highness Sir Dr. Loredoctor, PhD, Esq, the Magnificent, First of his name, Second Cousin of Dragons, White-Gold-Plate Wielder!
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Erkirithi-Sha
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Post by Erkirithi-Sha »

Ah, now that was a great last post (by Bernard). Brought back fond memories . . .

Btw, what's the chance of Joe Marlowe's rocket ship flying through Rise and Fall of Empires space? :biggrin:
"To promote the Empire of the Erkirithi-Sha, through science, and through the Assisted-Divinity of the Everlasting Emperor; to advance and to evolve always forward, throwing off the mawkish sentimentality of lesser beings; to suffer no imposition; and to accept no destiny but that which we make. These were the aims of The Servants of The Emperor, and these are the aims of all true Erkirithi. Long shall prevail the will of the Emperor" - the last words of Ukule-Thaid, convicted of the assassination of Chairman Kleth, 432nd cycle.
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