Hello escapists.
This will be a Zombie RPG. It sounds unoriginal, bit I'll try and make it as engaging and interesting as possible.
Your character Sheets.
If you have the urge to participate, send me a message and I'll add you to our group.
We're beginning the game now.
.
EDIT: We have our first mid-season entry!
Yay. Name's venom 3135, automatically hired. Tell him and me what do you think of his character in the chat. And please, stay alive, there are zombies out there.
This will be a Zombie RPG. It sounds unoriginal, bit I'll try and make it as engaging and interesting as possible.
It all came crashing down like a house of cards caught in a cool summers breeze.
In a mere five hours the world we knew had ended. After the initial reports came in, we were all glued to our televisions and radios, some contacting others in the World Wide Web in search of some 'real' answers, because anything would sound saner than what was on the news.
They said it was a new virus from New Zealand. They were uncertain of the origin, and somehow attached that to sheep. Twenty minutes passed, sports lovers watched football from the east to the west coast. Then there was an interruption in the broadcast, it was an emergency public announcement. In an hour the virus was deemed a pandemic.
Martial law was declared across the nation. The congress approved the army to operate on American soil. Something had gone terribly wrong. Experts bombarded every single channel, speculating on the disease and how to prevent it. They were more clueless than their viewers.
Public transportation was shut down. No one could enter or leave. They thought that they had quarantined the threat. But it was already here long before they had announced the existence of the virus. Quoting the news reports from the last twenty minutes of news broadcasts, right before they began claiming it was the end of days, patient zero had landed in California and died there. It took four hours for the virus to infect every major population centre in the USA, as I estimate.
Then the aftershock came. They enacted the draft. Every able bodied man from the ages of 18 to 47 had to stand up and fight for his country. They didn't say they had to fight their own families. I presume the law enforcement agencies worked in their cities and towns, trying to save as many as possible. The army did what it was ordered.
The brass almost completely died out. The government somehow managed to evacuate to Cheney Mountain, but communications were broken off. Quoting the words of a dying Sergeant that became a platoon leader after a few minutes of watching all of his senior officers being mauled to death, 'All is fucked'. The military had split.
After giving away arms and ammunitions, along with supplies and uniforms, countless local militias were formed, splitting from the army. They now answer to their law and their rules, doing what is best for them. The rest of the army is cut to three pieces. In the east coast they still answer to the brass. The west has their own two stars general, a surviving member of the pentagon's elite, trying to figure out what's best.
The centre is no more. The sergeant said that it had assimilated into the countless of local militias, soldiers running home to their families.
Welcome. If you are hearing this then you have achieved what countless others failed at.
You achieved deceiving death.
Currently our head count is at thirty four, which means we don't have many mouths to feed, but it decreases the chance for any experienced personal to be present. You shall write down you details in forms we provide so that we shall put your skills to good use.
In our humble three story mansion that we have commandeered, we have enough land around us to act as a buffer zone, and a fence. That doesn't mean we are completely protected. Even if the dead can't climb fences, the living can.
Today, we are your family. If you dare cross that family, you will be expelled.
My name is Moses, and I shall lead you through this hell, and we shall reach our promised land.
In a mere five hours the world we knew had ended. After the initial reports came in, we were all glued to our televisions and radios, some contacting others in the World Wide Web in search of some 'real' answers, because anything would sound saner than what was on the news.
They said it was a new virus from New Zealand. They were uncertain of the origin, and somehow attached that to sheep. Twenty minutes passed, sports lovers watched football from the east to the west coast. Then there was an interruption in the broadcast, it was an emergency public announcement. In an hour the virus was deemed a pandemic.
Martial law was declared across the nation. The congress approved the army to operate on American soil. Something had gone terribly wrong. Experts bombarded every single channel, speculating on the disease and how to prevent it. They were more clueless than their viewers.
Public transportation was shut down. No one could enter or leave. They thought that they had quarantined the threat. But it was already here long before they had announced the existence of the virus. Quoting the news reports from the last twenty minutes of news broadcasts, right before they began claiming it was the end of days, patient zero had landed in California and died there. It took four hours for the virus to infect every major population centre in the USA, as I estimate.
Then the aftershock came. They enacted the draft. Every able bodied man from the ages of 18 to 47 had to stand up and fight for his country. They didn't say they had to fight their own families. I presume the law enforcement agencies worked in their cities and towns, trying to save as many as possible. The army did what it was ordered.
The brass almost completely died out. The government somehow managed to evacuate to Cheney Mountain, but communications were broken off. Quoting the words of a dying Sergeant that became a platoon leader after a few minutes of watching all of his senior officers being mauled to death, 'All is fucked'. The military had split.
After giving away arms and ammunitions, along with supplies and uniforms, countless local militias were formed, splitting from the army. They now answer to their law and their rules, doing what is best for them. The rest of the army is cut to three pieces. In the east coast they still answer to the brass. The west has their own two stars general, a surviving member of the pentagon's elite, trying to figure out what's best.
The centre is no more. The sergeant said that it had assimilated into the countless of local militias, soldiers running home to their families.
Welcome. If you are hearing this then you have achieved what countless others failed at.
You achieved deceiving death.
Currently our head count is at thirty four, which means we don't have many mouths to feed, but it decreases the chance for any experienced personal to be present. You shall write down you details in forms we provide so that we shall put your skills to good use.
In our humble three story mansion that we have commandeered, we have enough land around us to act as a buffer zone, and a fence. That doesn't mean we are completely protected. Even if the dead can't climb fences, the living can.
Today, we are your family. If you dare cross that family, you will be expelled.
My name is Moses, and I shall lead you through this hell, and we shall reach our promised land.
Your character Sheets.
You received a piece of paper with some information to fill out.
If you are honest you will be assigned to a suitable job.
Name:
Age:
Profession(Before the outbreak of the pandemic):
Experience with firearms(None/Some/Extensive):
Preferred job:
If you are honest you will be assigned to a suitable job.
Name:
Age:
Profession(Before the outbreak of the pandemic):
Experience with firearms(None/Some/Extensive):
Preferred job:
1. OOC chat shall be posted in the group forum.
http://www.escapistmagazine.com/groups/owner/The-Exodus-A-Zombie-RPG?updated=1
2. Keep the discussion civilized. Posting about sensitive issues can be made, but try and not describe disturbing events. Do it off-screen
3. Being a dick. I know that this is self evident, but still, even if your character is supposed to be a loner, don't stretch it so far that nobody want to Role-play with you.
4. Leaving the game/absences - If you can't be on for a long period of time, inform me and preferably post in the group chat. You can hibernate, but leaving the game for too long will get you disqualified and eaten by zombies.
5. Use a safe word
6. Have fun
http://www.escapistmagazine.com/groups/owner/The-Exodus-A-Zombie-RPG?updated=1
2. Keep the discussion civilized. Posting about sensitive issues can be made, but try and not describe disturbing events. Do it off-screen
3. Being a dick. I know that this is self evident, but still, even if your character is supposed to be a loner, don't stretch it so far that nobody want to Role-play with you.
4. Leaving the game/absences - If you can't be on for a long period of time, inform me and preferably post in the group chat. You can hibernate, but leaving the game for too long will get you disqualified and eaten by zombies.
5. Use a safe word
6. Have fun
The following are the registered players and their characters:
TheIronRuler:
FinalDream:
Name: Elizabeth 'Beth' Williams
Age: 33
Appearance: Standing 5'9" tall Elizabeth appears thin, more due to starvation than personal preference. Her dark hair is long, scruffy and unkempt which she keeps pushed back behind her ears. She wears old black army surplus boots, grey BDU pants and a dark grey, worn looking hoodie with a faded white university logo on the front. She also carries a dark brown leather satchel bag slung over her right shoulder.
Profession: Creative Writing Lecturer at NYU
Experience with firearms: Some
Preferred Job: Scavenger
Mr.Ivebeenframed:
ImSkeletor:
Tips_of_Fingers:
Bo Latner
venom 3135
If you aren't registered here then it's probably because I'm lazy and I'll post you here.
Any players with special conditions - Villains or reserves will be listed as such.
TheIronRuler:
Name: Shlomi "Smiley" Levi
Age: 63
Profession: Retired
Experience with firearms: Extensive
Preffered job: Scavenger
{Appearance: A balding aged relic, Smiley is surprisingly fit for his age, his routine from the life he had at the army keeps him fit and ready. His hair is white, his gaze is accompanied with a set of two green eyes. Towering at 1.93 meters, with a small build, Smiley appears to be thirty years younger. Life isn't on friendly terms with smiley, his heart no longer operates like it used to and requires constant care and medication. He wears a blood stained white undershirt with elbow pads he found at a sporting goods store, Black trousers and a black belt. He wears USA issued army boots scavenged off the corpse of a fallen soldier.)
Age: 63
Profession: Retired
Experience with firearms: Extensive
Preffered job: Scavenger
{Appearance: A balding aged relic, Smiley is surprisingly fit for his age, his routine from the life he had at the army keeps him fit and ready. His hair is white, his gaze is accompanied with a set of two green eyes. Towering at 1.93 meters, with a small build, Smiley appears to be thirty years younger. Life isn't on friendly terms with smiley, his heart no longer operates like it used to and requires constant care and medication. He wears a blood stained white undershirt with elbow pads he found at a sporting goods store, Black trousers and a black belt. He wears USA issued army boots scavenged off the corpse of a fallen soldier.)
FinalDream:
Name: Elizabeth 'Beth' Williams
Age: 33
Appearance: Standing 5'9" tall Elizabeth appears thin, more due to starvation than personal preference. Her dark hair is long, scruffy and unkempt which she keeps pushed back behind her ears. She wears old black army surplus boots, grey BDU pants and a dark grey, worn looking hoodie with a faded white university logo on the front. She also carries a dark brown leather satchel bag slung over her right shoulder.
Profession: Creative Writing Lecturer at NYU
Experience with firearms: Some
Preferred Job: Scavenger
Mr.Ivebeenframed:
Name
Formerly Cpl.) Ethan Wycliffe
Apperance: Standing at 6 feet and four inches it was easy to see Ethan. The last time he weighed he was at 195 lbs but now he wasn't really quite sure. His dark chestnut colored hair is now grown out from his buzz cut that he had when he was in the military. An explosion blinded his left eye and left numerous scars on the left side of his body. He ditched his BDU and only kept the assault vest and the gear. Now he wears green cargo pants with a black t-shirt underneath all his gear. On top of that he wears a black damaged duster. His eyepatch is simply gauze wrapped tightly around his head.
Previous profession: Soldier
Experience with firearms: Extensive
Preferred job: Runner
Formerly Cpl.) Ethan WycliffeApperance: Standing at 6 feet and four inches it was easy to see Ethan. The last time he weighed he was at 195 lbs but now he wasn't really quite sure. His dark chestnut colored hair is now grown out from his buzz cut that he had when he was in the military. An explosion blinded his left eye and left numerous scars on the left side of his body. He ditched his BDU and only kept the assault vest and the gear. Now he wears green cargo pants with a black t-shirt underneath all his gear. On top of that he wears a black damaged duster. His eyepatch is simply gauze wrapped tightly around his head.
Previous profession: Soldier
Experience with firearms: Extensive
Preferred job: Runner
ImSkeletor:
Name: Joseph Vanson
Age: 30
Appearance: Joseph has slightly messy short black hair. He has blue eyes and he is six foot two and very muscular without being very bulky. He wears a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and blue jeans. He also wears sneakers. Joseph's nose is a bit bent in the middle from the times he has broken it during a fight. He keeps a machete and brass knuckles in a small back pack along with an almost empty container of sugar pills, his boxing shorts, some water, and a picture of his family. Joseph has hypoglycemia so he needs to keep his blood sugar up or else he gets very ill.
Profession: Boxer
Experience with firearms: None
Preferred job: Heavy Lifting, Protection, open to suggestions.
Age: 30
Appearance: Joseph has slightly messy short black hair. He has blue eyes and he is six foot two and very muscular without being very bulky. He wears a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and blue jeans. He also wears sneakers. Joseph's nose is a bit bent in the middle from the times he has broken it during a fight. He keeps a machete and brass knuckles in a small back pack along with an almost empty container of sugar pills, his boxing shorts, some water, and a picture of his family. Joseph has hypoglycemia so he needs to keep his blood sugar up or else he gets very ill.
Profession: Boxer
Experience with firearms: None
Preferred job: Heavy Lifting, Protection, open to suggestions.
Tips_of_Fingers:
Name: Ben "Two-Bit" Hack
Age: 25
Appearance: 5ft 9, lean and with only a little muscle, Two-Bit is a "don't-give-a-fuck" punk. His hazel eyes stare grimly at a world that never cared for him, the gaze made twice as sinister thanks to the addition of red rings caused by years of drug-abuse, exhaustion and the inevitable withdrawal. His face used to have loads of piercings but the only ones that remain are 3 in each ear, the lost metalwork leaving a plethora of unsanitary and ugly scars.
Two-Bit's once impressive foot high, red mohican now simply falls lank and dirty down to one side of his face, the sides of his head slowly growing back the colour of dried mud.
Despite having tattoos all over his body, the only ones that are not hidden by clothing is a selection of bats swooping up the right side of his neck and the tips of a red, flaming tsunami on the back of each hand.
Two-Bit's clothes are standard punk garb: sturdy combat boots; tattered, black skinny jeans; some obscure band t-shirt and a tartan-studded jacket with all manner of punk-band patches covering it. One thing that makes Two-Bit stand out from other survivors is the purple 1977 Gibson Les Paul guitar strapped to his back.
Previous profession: Lead Guitarist in famous punk band, Scum Triumphant.
Experience with firearms: Some (many people have pulled guns on him in the past but he has only ever fired one once, and that was when he was 12 years old, shooting cans in an alley.)
Preferred job: Whatever's going.
Age: 25
Appearance: 5ft 9, lean and with only a little muscle, Two-Bit is a "don't-give-a-fuck" punk. His hazel eyes stare grimly at a world that never cared for him, the gaze made twice as sinister thanks to the addition of red rings caused by years of drug-abuse, exhaustion and the inevitable withdrawal. His face used to have loads of piercings but the only ones that remain are 3 in each ear, the lost metalwork leaving a plethora of unsanitary and ugly scars.
Two-Bit's once impressive foot high, red mohican now simply falls lank and dirty down to one side of his face, the sides of his head slowly growing back the colour of dried mud.
Despite having tattoos all over his body, the only ones that are not hidden by clothing is a selection of bats swooping up the right side of his neck and the tips of a red, flaming tsunami on the back of each hand.
Two-Bit's clothes are standard punk garb: sturdy combat boots; tattered, black skinny jeans; some obscure band t-shirt and a tartan-studded jacket with all manner of punk-band patches covering it. One thing that makes Two-Bit stand out from other survivors is the purple 1977 Gibson Les Paul guitar strapped to his back.
Previous profession: Lead Guitarist in famous punk band, Scum Triumphant.
Experience with firearms: Some (many people have pulled guns on him in the past but he has only ever fired one once, and that was when he was 12 years old, shooting cans in an alley.)
Preferred job: Whatever's going.
Name: Boulregard "Grim" Davenport
Age: 32
Profession: Was an electronics expert for a small mercenary group.
Appearance: He is about 6'1" and weighs 200lbs. He is a little more fat than muscle but can still get out of trouble with ease. He has short, flat, and brown hair that never needs grooming. His eyes are bluish-grey, and have a tendency to scan the immediate area instead of focusing on the guy talking. His face was slightly pale, but it was barely noticeable. He always seemed to be optimistic about any kind of situation and was always smiling, but was also known for pulling the trigger without a second thought. His usual clothing is of a plain crimson hoodie with blue jean pants, and tennis shoes (he always knew how to blend into the crowd). Due to his mercenary group experience, he knew his way around most guns.
Experience with firearms: Extensive
Job preference: Radio Operator/ Open to suggestions.
Age: 32
Profession: Was an electronics expert for a small mercenary group.
Appearance: He is about 6'1" and weighs 200lbs. He is a little more fat than muscle but can still get out of trouble with ease. He has short, flat, and brown hair that never needs grooming. His eyes are bluish-grey, and have a tendency to scan the immediate area instead of focusing on the guy talking. His face was slightly pale, but it was barely noticeable. He always seemed to be optimistic about any kind of situation and was always smiling, but was also known for pulling the trigger without a second thought. His usual clothing is of a plain crimson hoodie with blue jean pants, and tennis shoes (he always knew how to blend into the crowd). Due to his mercenary group experience, he knew his way around most guns.
Experience with firearms: Extensive
Job preference: Radio Operator/ Open to suggestions.
Name: Jack Hammond
Age: 31
Profession(Before the outbreak of the pandemic): Jack played a double agent roll for a dangerouse gang he was in. He infiltrated the police before he got a criminal record so that his gang could keep one step ahead of the police. He doesn't talk about it anymore, however and claims to be a clinical psychologist.
Experience with firearms(None/Some/Extensive): Extensive
Preferred job: Jack learned a few tricks in his past and so takes whatever job is going.
appearence: Jacks most destincitve facial feature is his eyes. He has bright green eyes. He has black hair, going grey in places, but this isn't really noticable unless you look closely. He has a boney jaw and light stubble, with a long thin mouth. He has a hard gaze that shows detemrination in everything he does. he has broad shoulders and an athletic build. Despite his appearence, he isn't too good at bare hand combat. He is tall at about 6'2.
Age: 31
Profession(Before the outbreak of the pandemic): Jack played a double agent roll for a dangerouse gang he was in. He infiltrated the police before he got a criminal record so that his gang could keep one step ahead of the police. He doesn't talk about it anymore, however and claims to be a clinical psychologist.
Experience with firearms(None/Some/Extensive): Extensive
Preferred job: Jack learned a few tricks in his past and so takes whatever job is going.
appearence: Jacks most destincitve facial feature is his eyes. He has bright green eyes. He has black hair, going grey in places, but this isn't really noticable unless you look closely. He has a boney jaw and light stubble, with a long thin mouth. He has a hard gaze that shows detemrination in everything he does. he has broad shoulders and an athletic build. Despite his appearence, he isn't too good at bare hand combat. He is tall at about 6'2.
If you aren't registered here then it's probably because I'm lazy and I'll post you here.
Any players with special conditions - Villains or reserves will be listed as such.
If you have the urge to participate, send me a message and I'll add you to our group.
We're beginning the game now.
.
EDIT: We have our first mid-season entry!
Yay. Name's venom 3135, automatically hired. Tell him and me what do you think of his character in the chat. And please, stay alive, there are zombies out there.
