Tainted Redux - Roleplay Thread [Zombie RP Strategy] page 4

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Matthew

Awwwww shit. They’re coming and my mace isn’t done yet. What the hell should I do?… Whatever. I place the makeshift mace on Magnus’ table, then run off. Grabbing the wooden table, I quickly cut both legs off, take one, then place both the leg and the slab of wood that remained on Magnus’ table. Maybe he can do something about it.

I run downstairs, as someone shouted that they’re here. Looking at the horde, I note that there are a huge lot of them. A LOT. I remain on guard, in case that they break in all of a sudden.

 
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Magnus

“Young man whose weapon I didn’t make yet…do you have a blade I could use after the fight? Maybe something that could hold things together as well?”

I raise my pick in my left hand and wait for the breach.

 
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Matthew

“Well, I have a large breadcutter knife I took from home back in my younger years, when I had to escape. If you want, you can borrow it, but I don’t know if it could hold things together.” I give the knife to him, then go back to waiting for the horde to break in. For the sake of heaven, it takes ages for them to go inside.

 
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Magnus

“No, I meant something like nails, screws, nuts and bolts, duct tape even…”

I rush to the kitchen in a first floor apartment and begin searching the drawers.

Nothing…nothing…fucking nothing…one more drawer

(Rolling 1d20 for search…result is 14)

I think someone was smiling at me from above. A kitchen knife in good condition was in the last drawer. I grab it and bring it to the guy.

“I found a better knife to use. Just give me five minutes and I will have this new weapon ready for you.”

I shout up to wherever the bombsuit is.

“Hey Mr. Powersuit! I need you down here while I build a better weapon for someone.”

I immediately rush downstairs to get to work. The guy seems to have left his previous weapon on the workbench…that’s perfect. Now I can get to work.

 
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“Jackson”
‘Well, little girl, th-there are, um… things down there that m-may be worse than cultist, s-so, uh…’
Are zombies worse than cultists, though? I mean, zombies are zombies, sure, but cultists have actual human intellect behind their malice. They can use that against you in the worst ways. Like sacrificing you to their evil gods, for instance. Or just using your blood for things. Or…
My thought stream is interrupted by one of the probable cultists calling for my help downstairs. Oh, what to do, what to do…
‘Alright, here’s what I’m going to do, l-little girl whose name I still d-don’t know. I need to go downstairs, so y-you stay up here, and keep out o-o-o… o-of reach of anyone who looks like a cultist or, uh, anything t-that looks like it should be dead. Okay? O-okay.’
Having done that, I lift the girl from my shoulder and place her back on the sofa, then head down the stairs to find that the zombies are breaking their way in. Oh boy. Time for a battle cry, to bolster my resolve and stuff.
‘Zombies, h-huh? I’ve fought more th-threatening steel boxes than that!’
Ohhh, that was terrible, and did nothing to bolster my resolve. Still, I can’t back down now. I head towards the zombies, swinging my newly acquired sickle at their dumb zombie faces… or necks, rather. Even given it’s lack of sharpness, the sheer force behind blows lets me decapitate a zombie with every swing, given that I actually hit their necks; a lot of the time, though, it’s just the stomachs or arms or skulls, which doesn’t do nearly as much damage as I’d like it to. But that suit is doing it’s job and not breaking much at all. And they said it would be a hindrance… well now they’re all dead by zombies and cultists, so shows how much they knew.

 
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Alex Shipton

Waiting at the bottom of the stairs I ready my weapon preparing for battle. I take a step forward but quickly yield. I don’t actually need to fight do I? I can probably let these other guys handle it. I’d probably just get in their way after all. I take another step back, fully prepared to ascend the flight of stairs back up to the second floor. As I do so I notice that some of the fighters look a little tired. The fatigue wasn’t that visible but I could already tell that these fighters were really giving their all. I remove my foot from the first step of the staircase. Adrenaline pumping through my body I rush at the first random zombie I see, (rather recklessly) and strike it directly in the head with a powerful swing. The pure crushing force combined with the penetration of the nails almost bringing my opponent down. The zombie stumbles backwards and barely manages to keep its balance.

“How’d you like that?” I say in excitement at my first kill and the chance of my first victory for humanity. I then realize what I had done. I had managed to let go of my one and only weapon, which not only failed to kill the zombie, but was not attached to its face. Flabbergasted, I start moving backwards as the zombie approaches me. “Just my luck.” I mutter to myself. The zombie’s throat emitting a horrifying moan. The sound bouncing off the walls of the abandoned building as it approaches ever so closer. Had my time finally come?

 
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Magnus

I’m toiling away at that guy’s mace, a little flustered that I didn’t get his name yet.

Let’s see…remove these nails, lose the rock, keep the dowel…good…now we place the handle of the knife along one end of the dowel and drive the previously used nails through it into the dowel to fasten it. This still won’t be enough to secure it though…I’m going to need tape to hold it together…or longer nails.

I look around the workbench in an act of desperation and notice an almost completely used roll of duct tape. That guy must have forgot it when he left the mace here…or he actually was listening to my explanation about constituent parts. Whatever the case may be, I use the last of that duct tape to wrap around the knife handle and dowel. I swing it for a moment and look at it in the light. I wiggle it and nod.

Good…the blade doesn’t wobble with all those nails and the duct tape holding it. I just created sort of a makeshift long-handled cane knife. Time to show the guy his new weapon.

I rush upstairs, smacking one zombie going for Alex with the pick before getting to the guy I needed to get this weapon to. (Matt)

“Here, use this. I transformed it from mace to long-handled cane knife for you.”

I’m back and ready for action. Mr. Powersuit has two coming up on his right. I let out a battle cry and ram my way through the first to smack the second in its head. I then turn and step on the first zombie’s head before covering the bombsuit’s back.

“Two almost tried sinking their teeth into you, bombsuit. I’ve got you covered. Where’s the girl, for the record?”

 
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“Jackson”
‘Haha! Like I’d tell y-you that! I, uh…’
…actually, there aren’t many places she can be, beyond “dead”.
‘…she’s up- upstairs, on the sofa. Don’t s-sss-sacrifice her or anything.’

 
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Magnus

“Don’t worry. I’m just going to make sure she’s okay. I’m coming back to the fight afterwards. Keeping her alive is priority one.”

I rush upstairs, pick in hand and find the little girl. I rest the pick by the doorway and catch my breath.

“Hi there, little girl. I’m just checking up on you to see how you’re doing. What’s your name?”

 
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Matthew

Oh, great. My weapon is done. And I didn’t have to give him my souvenir from home. Woohoo. “Hey, thanks for that!” I shout to him. I test it on a zombie. It feels weird, missing my target, but the strength I swing it manages to knock it out. While it’s “sleeping”, I cut its throat quickly, and mercilessly. It bleeds out in a few seconds. I’m quite satisfied, to be honest. But I’ll keep that table leg nearby, just in case.

I put the table leg down near the wall, then charge at the horde. I decapitate 1 of them, and knock out another 3. I kill them with the previous method, then back off.

 
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Drew

(Apparently I started slightly further from the group, but I did read everyone’s post, so I come prepared)

(Don’t hurt me! I was allowed to join…this one I believe :3)

I wake up. Man, this apartment building is horrible. However, I loved how cheap it was, and once you clean the musty-ness of it, it’s quite comfy. I look out the window with the large fire and the hordes upon hordes of…those savages. What do they want? Why are they so violent? As stoic as I am, I am still disturbed. I’ve been hearing arguing from down the building, but I don’t know if it’s in my head, or maybe just a movie another person left on.

I turn on the Television. Static, seems like the electric has gone down. Damn, I paid good money for that. Still, what am I doing here? How did I get here..? No time for questions, I’ve seen that plethora of monsters get bigger every day, and it feels like their creeping towards this building, I have to get out of here. I put on my worn out backpack, get my leather jacket/boots, Jeans, shirt and a light hoodie on. I grab my Machete I found, along with a pocket watch, though it seems to be out of batteries. Family Heirloom? Stolen? Bought? Man, I’ve been forgetting stuff.

I try to close my door as silently as possible, but due to how old it is, it creaks incredibly loud. Maybe even the lobby can hear it. Christ, how did this happen..?

 
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(If you are going to search containers, I will have to roll a 1d20 for each to determine what you get. The more containers opened in one go, the less interesting the rewards.)

Magnus

I hear a door creaking as I talk to the girl.

“Hold on, sweetie. I heard something.”

I grip my mining pick and get ready to swing as I round the doorway. I stop short to notice this man from another apartment.

“Hey…you’re not bitten, are you?”

 
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Drew

I notice a huge man with a Pickaxe. “Jesus! Someone drank a lot of milk didn’t they?” I say, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m not infecte-what was that?!” I say as I apparently hear fighting going on. I back away slightly, I know this appartment building well enough to know I could easily outrun this man, but the last thing I want to do is cause trouble, so I sheath my Machete, bow in my families traditional way, and ask who he is.

 
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Scott

I notice people abandon the idea of barricading and rush towards the horde as they flood in through the building. I never did get my hands on a weapon, but do I really need one? I mean, I sacrificed my couch for no reason, why sacrifice myself? I feel my pockets, and notice that both of them are still there. I guess I should head up to the upper level and relax. No need to stress out over a horde of effected persons attempting to devour us. I am pretty sure the big guys got things under control. I make my way towards the stairwell, “I don’t thrive off of the sensation of battle, so I will go to the roof and get some relaxation so, yeah. Good luck, I’m kind of counting on it.”

As I conclude my sentence I begin walking up the stairwell. Hopefully this place even has roof access. Besides, maybe if they all die they’ll forget about me. Even if that isn’t the case, I’d rather die happy than fighting. After going up a couple floors I reach into my pocket and pull out my lighter and a small container. Opening the container, I make sure the contents are still inside. Thankfully I wasn’t disappointed. Seven floors later I reach the rooftop. It is a cold setting, with a strong breeze, carrying the scent of rotting flesh and burning buildings. “All to hell we must sail.”

I sit down, back against the door that I entered from. Thankfully I will know if somebody is coming, not that it matters anyway. I open up the stainless steel container and pull out a small marijuana cigarette that I rolled a few days ago. Taking my lighter I do as I’ve done a thousand times before. The only difference is that the aroma has never clashed with the stench of death, and the air was already thick with smoke. Smoke and agony.

[As of now, I am rather not a fan of fighting the horde. My character has an outlook on life, one that would not consider fighting them a way of living.]

 
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Magnus

“Magnus Windsor…I came up here to check on someone when I heard a creak…Almost stuck you with this thing, thinking that you were a lurking zombie. It seems I am mistaken and apologize for that. Listen, a group of survivors and I are fighting the undead downstairs in an effort to survive together. That machete would be really useful if it were on our side, slaying the dead in order to survive. You’re welcome to help us if you like. If you do help, be careful of the man in the bombsuit. He thinks everyone around him is a cultist if they aren’t zombies and that the girl in this room is supposedly a potential sacrifice or some garbage of that nature. Plain and simple, he’s delusional…thinks he can survive on his own…even tried to take the girl with him thinking we would brainwash her. It’s up to you though…you want to help? Go downstairs and help us defend this place. What’s your name, for the record?”

 
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Elena

“This will have to do for now.” I tighten the grip on the bar as I get closer to the group trying to make their way in. One of them notices me, and my eyes widen as he rapidly approaches.

“Kevin?”

He snarls in response, lunging at me without hesitation. Thankfully, I’m able to react in time and jump out of the way before it’s too late. He turns his head to look at me, and I take a swing hoping it lands. It does, but he’s not affected it. Instead, he pushes me against the wall and literally tries to eat my face off. I’m barely able to hold him back, the adrenaline pumping through my body at full speed. Finally, after a moment of struggling, I kick at his leg rather hard and he stumbles from the hit, giving me enough time get out of his sight and make a run for the stairs.

“Shit!”

I didn’t get far enough, unfortunately. The strong pull on my shirt was evidence of that. I knew that any second now I’d feel the very painful bite that would end my life for good.

[Sorry guys, I’m quite busy since I just started the second summer semester. I’m taking a creative writing class, so I may not have enough motivation to type up a post after doing so much writing.]

 
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(So what are you saying? You’re bowing out?)

 
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Emily Dodson

The man left as quickly as he entered, without saying a word I look around the room quickly with Little Miss Suzie in hand. I try to shove the couch next to the door to block the man out, after a few seconds of pushing and only hearing my bonescrack instead of hearing the sounds of movement I put my arms to my sides. “What is this made of? Cement?”, I look around the room and squirm under the couch in attempt to hide from the… kultest? In the darkness I wave my arms around looking, searching for anything I can bring out with me.

 
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[Oh no, not at all. I just realized that by typing a near-death experience right before making such announcement I might as well have meant that. I’ll still be online and play, but maybe not as often, who knows.]

 
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Drew

“Nice to meet you Magnus. Thank you, I’d love to help your team. That’s crazy! Hope we can keep the little one safe.”. I look at the room everyone supposedly is in. I see a couch. It’s ripped up, old, dirty and dusty. It’s obvious whoever owns this couch sure made sure he/she put it to use. As soon as I was about to sit down on it, I recall Magnus asking me to go help fight the horde. As I walk out the door to fight, I sharpen my machete to both mark where to retreat and to sharpen the tool. Hopefully this leather will prevent me from being the next dinner.

God…here I am, with a group of maybe 8 or so people, none of them I know fighting just to survive. Is this what we have come too..? Still, I’m not ready to die!

 
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Originally posted by vixenated:

[Oh no, not at all. I just realized that by typing a near-death experience right before making such announcement I might as well have meant that. I’ll still be online and play, but maybe not as often, who knows.]

Magnus

I go to enter the room again but what’s this? The kid is nowhere to be seen. I grab my mining pick and sit down by the door.

“Why are you hiding? There aren’t any zombies up here. I just came up here to make sure you aren’t hurt. Please…come out, little girl so we can talk.”

 
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Elena

In such moment of panic I sink to my knees, unknowingly freeing myself from Kevin’s grasp. It is then the lightbulb clicks on again.

“Sorry babe, I can’t let you eat me.” I grab his ankle and pull as hard as I can, making him land hard on his back. He protests, but I ignore him and quickly pick up the bar. “Catch you on the other side.” I bring one end down as hard as I possibly can, smiling at the results when the dust settles, so to speak. His brain, or what is left of it, is splattered around his discombobulated head, and even though there is some minor twitching, he was finally dead for good.

“Rest in peace,” I add, walking away with blood and other messy remains caked to my lower legs and feet.

 
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Night 0, 04:00


Merk

To the left! I instinctively raise my makeshift mace as a I feel a zombie approach to the west of me. It hits his head with a resounding smack, and I follow it up with another blow, then I swung it behind me clumsily as another one of those bastards had crept up on me. The other people were fighting alongside me, trying to hold out this horde. Damn those things, I think. The wall next to the main door cracks as the sheer weight of the horde pushing against the place weakens the wall. I glance around. All the other fighters’ fatigue is obvious. Their attacks are getting slower, weaker, less accurate. But the horde keeps on coming. It’s a precarious moment, where a mistake on our side could leave us overwhelmed as we get pushed on all sides until we all became ravenous monsters.

All sides. All sides. Think you dummy! All sides, you’ve forgotten to make sure this was the only entrance! Oh shit!

“Ala…Ela…the girl, here’s your mace!”, I say as I throw the weapon at her feet, “Cover my spot! Make sure they don’t get through, I’m checking the back to make sure they haven’t gotten in another way…”

I sprint through the hallway, quickly entering each room and making sure it was all secure. I was reaching near the end of the first floor when through one of the rooms’ window I spotted one of the buggers slumbering along. I quickened my pace, entering the last room and the fire escape, locked by the bars, is being bashed and banged. Dead moans greet me as I stare in horror. Hastily, I moved a chair in front of the door, then realising it would have no effect at all, ran back out of the room, then closed the door behind me. As I run back to the main entrance, any furniture or item spotted in the way of the hallway was flung back against the door or just strewn around the place to make the zombies find it rather difficult to arrive.

I warn all the others of the incoming threat, as I tried to think of a plan. Maybe if we all hid in one of the rooms and closed the door and barricaded it with supplies…but they’d eventually get in. What if we all bottle them up on the staircase, heading upwards and we just keep hitting them downwards so they knock everyone…no, that would be a death sentence for all of us. How about we all go into the attic and close the door, and put items on top. Then if we broke the ceiling and went onto the roof…yeah what? Jump a building from like, 40 metres up or something? No thanks. Maybe if someone brought a rope and we slowly climbed down…well that was definitely last ditch.

Either way, a few more hours of this and there was no way we were fending them off. We had to do something before we began to panic.

 
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Matthew

Well, this is becoming more dangerous. While stabbing some of the zombies, I noticed that they circled me. Well shit. I grab my cane knife, then swing it around me. I barely manage to cut 5 of them, and knock 7 out. Trying desperately to escape, I leave the zombies and start to run… right before I stop suddenly and fall over. One of them grabbed me, and is ready to bite in my leg…

…Er, I don’t think it can bite me now that his head has been seperated from the rest of its body. Taking its arms off myself takes a few seconds, but I manage to do it. Right as I get up, I stab many times at a smaller group, consisting of 5 or so of those foul creatures. Okay… this one won’t reproduce for sure now… At least, not in the normal way. After a few other stabs, I manage to kill 2 of them, and severely damage the other 3, i.e. they can’t stand up or breathe normally. I’ll leave them to rot in peace, then head off upstairs. I smack one off, nearly at the top, and watch as it groans while stumbling to its certain death, breaking its head on a step and landing with a splat. Not a pretty sight.

Finally, I arrive at top, seeing that Magnus is searching for the little girl right now. I realize that this might mean bad. Really bad. If she went down and was bitten… Oh god. I also search around, and hear some breaths under the couch. Let’s hope it’s a little girl, and not a zombified one. I poke around with the not-sharp end, while asking for whoever is under the couch to come out.

 
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Drew

As I go to down the gloomy, dark, dirty hallway, I see a man with a Cane knife running towards our area. I decide to press on. I see multiple apparently allies fighting the blood-thirsty horde. I aid them, hacking down the zombie-like creatures one by one. I duck under one’s attempt to grab me, hack it’s shoulder down and kick it away, but it gets back up! What is wrong with these things. “I hope someone has any ideas! ‘Cause we’re kinda getting overwhelmed!”. I see a bookcase that looks heavy, but moveable. I push it in front of one of the main doors, and retreat back to the main group, hoping Magnus can protect them well enough.