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Post by haunting on Jan 23, 2011 16:07:11 GMT -5
 A zombie apocoltic type rp Users allowed to post: DeadboyJonah and Haunting Banner(s) made from cooltext.com/Character sketch drawn by Haunting. This rp may include: Necrophillia. Yaoi. Violent and sexual themes. Cursing. Blood and gore. |
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Post by haunting on Jan 23, 2011 16:11:59 GMT -5
 An infectious virus has taken root in the worlds population, turning them into mutated undead. No one is safe, and all residents have been told to avoid contact with these creatures. But citizens do not give up hope. Several secure bases within cities have been created where survivors can regroup to fight back the invasion of infected, providing they can get there. Akira Yokito is one of the few survivors within New Orleans, and desperately, he is trying to reach the surivor camps, however, his movements have attracted unwanted attention from one of the infected who is stalking him for unknown reasons. Will Akira make it to the city of survivors? Or will he fall pray to the infection? And why exactly is he being followed? |
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Post by haunting on Jan 23, 2011 16:12:22 GMT -5
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Post by haunting on Jan 24, 2011 8:35:08 GMT -5
It was 5.30pm, tuesday afternoon of the 13th of july, 2019. The air was cold, chilling to bone, like a tight blanket os ice, it cluthed onto those who walked in the street. But funnily enough, the roamers did not feel a thing. Then again, why should they? Hand clutching his brothers baseball bat, Akira pressed himself hard agaisnt one of the walls, there was grim on the side of his face, smudges of dirt decorating pale skin, while a black beanie hat had securely been pulled over slivery locks. From left to right, a single crystal blue hue scanned the streets before him, and tightening his grip upon the handle, Akira tensed noticably. He needed water, some substance of drink, be it fruit juice, milk or anything liquid.
His supplies had run out, and of course that meant he had to venture out into the main streets of the city.
Cautious steps lead him forwards, out of the alley way in which he had taken refguee for a few seconds. His movements were careful, planned, and he avoided things as best he could. Glass, twigs, plastic bags, anything which crunched was carefully avoided, it had to be. He couldn't risk exposing himself. It would be his death if he did so.
Stalking the sidelines, he edged towards one of the abandoned shops, his grip upon the bat tightening as he slipped into the store. Thankfully, there was nothing inside.
Briefly lowering his weapon, the youthful body of the survivor stepped forward, moving into the abandoned convience shop. He stayed near the isles he could see, and even with his weapon lowered, his alertness never once faded. Fingers ran over glass pannels and soon, over a breakage, lines of achole standing there, tempting him, while finally, he reached the cartooned drinks. Placing his bat down, Akira's defenses fell, the backpack upon his back, dropped and swung round, instantly being filled by bottles of water. He took what he could, what he needed to survive before raising both bag and bat.
The other isles were useful as well, and scanning each one he came across he plucked food and other suplies from the shelves, a couple bags of skittles, some biscuits, a loaf of bread which thankfully hadn't gone off, some cold sauages. There were tins as well, beans, sweetcorn, he piled a couple in before grabbing plasters and first aid things. This would have to do, his bag was getting full. Softly, Akira sighed.
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Post by DeadboyJonah on Jan 24, 2011 16:22:25 GMT -5
And with every movement the human made red eyes watched closely. He was hard to see, blending with the scenery easy despite how odd his own clothing was, at least for a Hunter it was odd. No, he didnt like those plain bland colors, he preferred the dark camo colored hoodies; like the one he was currently wearing. Black jeans covered his legs and his feet were adorned in combat boots. There was a possibility he seemed to still have some form of human left in him but one could never really tell with these creatures, the creatures humans called zombies.
No they werent zombies, zombies were dead, those that had become infected were simply that, infected people who had been mutated, they were still very much alive and still very much hungry as when they were human, only now they craved a different kind of food. He didnt let these thoughts detere him though, silently following after the male.
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Post by haunting on Jan 24, 2011 17:21:14 GMT -5
Packed and loaded, his bag was ready, and hauling the somewhat heavy thing onto his back, he sighed quietly in releif. Still, there was no signs of anything coming, or anyone, anything, looming out there. But even with such peacefulness, he could never let his gaurd down, not once. Glancing around the shop, Akira checked everywhere, only to pause at the sign of a map. His last one had been lost, and as great as Akira was at surving, he was certainly not the best when it came to navigation. It was risky, staying in one place too long, but it had to be done. He paced towards the book, pulling it open. It was too large to bring with him, much to large...
A scowl crossed his face, and then without a moments hesitation, he picked up his bat, grabbing one last bag of skittles before setting off. There was no need to loom around in such a place, not when action had to be taken, not when he, needed to escape.
But getting back onto the streets was just as dangerous as the open shop. Akira gripped as his bat, foot steps soft, and quiet as he moved. He had to be, the infected were out there...Somthing cracked to the side of him, and the sound of distant weeping was heard, he glanced over, single eye flickering down the alley before swiftly he moved, heading off to the left side of the street aiming to find a park, anything where he could sit down and rest and be completely aware of his surroundings.
Akira quickened his pace, ducking through the alleys careful to avoid anything which moved and soon, he was finally at an open spaced area. A place where he could see everything around him, and quiet effectively hear anything approaching. Finally, he rest, if only for a little.Not daring to take his pack off, he slumped too the ground, hand hand reaching up to press to his chest, before without further hesitation he ripped open the packet of skittles, plopping a few into his mouth.
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