Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Should I just start it out or are other people coming in?))

((Well, I asumed that people posted their profiles in the profile forum...))

Current Characters:

Player: SovietSnowBall
Name: Eric McCracken
Age: 23
Sex: Male
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 185lb
Hair: Short reddish brown
Eyes: Soft blue, green hue
Appearance: Muscular build, unshaven and rugged complexion. Jeans, white T-shirt and steel toed boots.

Equipment: 12 gauge shotgun and a fire axe, thirty shells in a small box. A large survival knife, a lighter, a pack of chewing gum and several bags of beef jerky.

Bio: Eric worked at the Wal-Mart for several years before the outbreak, loading and unloading trucks. When the dead began banging on the doors, him and the other employees raided the hunting department and fought them off. After boarding up the store, they sat in for a long wait. After several weeks and no word of rescue, several of the customers who had taken refuge in the store thought they would take on the hordes, ripping down the barricades and running head long to their doom.
Again, the survivors fought for their lives, taking what little supplies they could and heading for the trucks. Eric was one of the few that made it out alive.
The outbreak hit Eric hard when he saw most of his co-workers eaten alive by the brainless freaks and knowing that most if not all of his family is dead. He generally deals with this by killing the zombies when ever he can, or by bottling all of his feelings up.

Player: Gourou Bandai
Name: Bill Carradine
Age: 53
Sex: male
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 168
Hair: grey, combed back, goes down to neck
Eyes: A dulled green
Appearance: Wearing his old musty army trenchcoat and fatigues underneath, he has managed to keep a well rounded physique into his older years, he was a bushy gray moustache anda slouching form, graivty and old age starting to get the better of him.
Equipment: Colt .45 (2 24 shell boxes of ammo), caneblade (cane with a concealed blade), long kitchen knife, pack of cigarettes, binoculars, box of army rations, basic med. kit (painkillers, bandages, clips, gauze tape)
Bio: A War veteran and an olympic swimmer in his younger years, he's so far been forced to kill his daughter and grandchildren, infected with the disease.
He already is deeply burdened with the weight of killing his fellow man, and he's slowly crippling to mental instabilities, depression, and emotional baggage.

Player: Bristi
Name: Sloane Carter
Age: 20
Sex: Female
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 140lbs.
Hair: Light brown, short and curled.
Eyes: Brown with golden specks.
Appearance: Well built body though thin, because of food shortage. Usually rotates between a uniform and civilian clothes. Civilian clothes being whatever she managed to grab when she left. Has several cuts along her arms, and a fresh scar going over her left eye, the eye is undamaged. Pleasant face, looks tough becasue of the scar, but when she smiles which is rare now, she looks happy.
Carries a duffel bag that contains the remants of her house
Equipment: Combat knife that sits in a sheath on her right thigh for close combat, and a Colt .45 that sits on her left hip. Extra ammo in a duffel bag she carries.
Bio: Sloane was a troublesome kid, her mother died when she was very young, and her dad wanted her in the military. She was sent to military school where she was an A student, but rebelled against the teachers. When she went into the military, she was asigned to the Marines. Had just gotten leave when the zombies started appearing and attacking, made it home but was almost killed trying to pack up her bag.
Very active and observant, mostly because of her training, also was the fastest runner in her outfit. Speaks out, but has learned diplomacy, now she won't be fired for insubordination when she disagrees. Used to cuss her guts out, but has recently decided that it is pointless, and has been training herself against it.
Made it to a Wal-mart before her car ran out of gas and got inside. Soon after the customers revolted, and Sloane ended up in one of the trucks along with one of the previuos employees.

[ Message temporarily off-line ]

Eric kept the smoking shotgun in his hand and drove with the other. It was close enough when he had to snatch it up at a moments notice and he didn't feel like playing with his life.
"We are through the thick of things." Eric shouted, knocking on the wall of the cab. Most of the things had followed them to the Wal-Mart, so very few were left roaming the streets by comparison. Still, any of them was too many.
They were clear of most of the area, and set through the back roads away from the city. All of the highways were filled with frozen traffic, the dead picking bodies out of the cars and tearing them to shreds. The news had tried to shelter everyone and make the situation seem less of what it truly was. He stopped believing the lies when the things were beating their way into the store. The only thing that saved them were the assault rifles. Built strictly for deadly accuracy, they made quick work of the shambling hordes, or at least the ones that had managed to get inside.
For the first time in his life, Eric was thanking the republicans, those beautiful gun-toting bastards. If the ban hadn't lifted a year earlier, they would be as dead as dead passed for these days.
If they could make it to the country, then maybe they would have less of them to deal with. Maybe they would find weapons, ammo, food... Maybe they would find others.
Last they had heard, each county was mobilizing a militia. Any one with the competence to use a gun was given one. If they went to the boon docks, then there would be less people. If people were hard to come by, then at least there would be far fewer un-people. They could deal with that...
But for now, all he really wanted was a place they could unload and gather their bearings. Even just some one to sit up in the front with him that would sure as hell be nice.

Sloane sighed with relief, she'd made it. It was sad, of course, how many others didn't, but it was their choice.
If those maniacs had only listened, everyone might've gotten out alive, instead of the handful. A couple of those in her truck were already dying, and as far as she could tell, there was nothing that could help them.
She'd tried shutting it all out, but the gunshots brought it back again, and more vivid than ever. She had been trained for war, but nothing like this, this was worse than anythign she'd ever seen anything she'd ever heard about.
Those not caught and devoured instantly were doomed to death that defied the natural laws, they would become one of them, the monsters, the undead, or whatever people were calling them.
Sloane closed here eyes, she shoudl consider herself lucky, there were so many crushed under the weight of those escaping. So many calling out for a help they would not recieve. That had really gotten at Sloane, her duty was to protect her nation, the people living in that nation...and there was nothing she could do.
People were crying all around her, and those not crying were angry, though why they were angry, Sloane still could not decide. They had a right to be upset, sure, but mad...Sloane decided that it was probably nerves coming out. The knowledge that their families, friends, everyoen that they knew, were more than likely either eaten, or undead.
That's what had happened to Sloane, when she'd made it home, her father wasn't there, but she knew that there was only a small chance that he was still alive, and human. She'd packed her bag quickly, but had only barely escaped,a nd hte image of the monster hanging onto the front of her car was burned into her memory.
A door slid open and a man went into the front, where the shots had originated. He had probably been th only other reasonable person in the back of the huge truck, and now he was gone. She had this bunch all to herself.
She coudl hear an argument further back.
"No YOU listen! I cut it on the d**n fence!"
"You've seen what happens to a person when they get infected. Do you want to effin' kill us all?"
"I"m not going to die just to satisfy your d**n curiousity! So get the he** away!"
Sloane shook her head, the man was lying, but he was so desparate...Sloane wished the doctor hadn't been one of thse trampled under foot. She only knew the basics of the field, enough to stitch herself up from time to time, but that woudn't be good enough for these people.
Sloane pulled her cap and sleeves down. The cuts and scars on her face and arms woudl only worry people needlessly. She could account for every scrape, but considering what she just heard, no one would believe her. Moving her hands quickly, she checked to make sure both her gun and knife were still where they belonged, in their sheaths and on her person.

Bill kept his eyes to the road, scanning. "Believe me I've tried to reason with the bastards, I'd let the guy get shot personally, I just don't want that little girl to see it."

He heard Ben shouting "You think I give a s**t about any of you!?", Jared responded "I knew it! You even shoved that little girl Nancy to get on the truck! I should plug you right now you pissant peice a' s**t!" Bill called to the back of the truck, "You go ahead, but we're gonna be in this truck awhile as I see it, you shoot him now and we're gonna have a ripe stink in the back for a good while; besides we don't wanna be wasting our bullets.... And Jared? Before it went down, Amber said you were the nicest man she'd ever known...She said you'd never kill another man alive, and if even one person survived...She wanted it to be you....I'm sorry." Bill shut the hatch, and looked to Eric with solemn eyes at his incredulous look "Yeah, I lied about all that, only thing Amber told me was that she was going to kill herself, I managed to talk her out of it....Lot of help that was, huh?" Bill looked out, hoping for something to change the mood. He was rewarded in a rather morbid way, a crooked zombie lookin' to be a man of 20 came shambling towards the truck alone.

"Ooh! There's one." Bill said, speaking mainly to himself as he peered down the window. He took aim and squinted; firing the colt, he sent a good lookin' hole through the beast's head. Bill looked down at the dashboard while reloading and asked Eric "You tried working that radio, yet?"

((Hey, maybe we should put up sheets for the NPC's that we've established. And if you got mixed up with the names, Ben is the man cut, and Jared is the one with the gun.))