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 Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2015 6:01 am
[ Step 1 ] Each player must roll 4d10 in their post. Match your dice to the rolls below. RP it out in ANY order.
1. Your character finds a stapler. It doesn't seem very useful. It is still attached to an arm, that has long begun it's final stages of decay. Attached to the bracelet of the arm is a name. "R O R...." the rest is missing.
2. Your character finds boxes and boxes of receipts. It doesn't look very informative.
3. Your character turns the corner and finds one of the undying! They must remain quiet for a bit to avoid being caught. If your character wishes to fight it instead for some reason, the undying has 50 HP and does -5 auto damage.
4. Your character finds a stray cat. It doesn't seem very friendly.
5. Your character notices a strange room. It seems to be locked.
6. Your character notices a foul smell coming from the copier room. You notice that the copier has stopped running, but there are pages and pages of images that surround it. Each one depicts someone being brutally stabbed. It is difficult to look at.
7. Your character notices some booze! Unfortunately it is empty
8. Your character manages to find some loose change. Not very handy.
9. Your character comes across a disgusting sight - a half-eaten body. The smell is repulsive and causes you to involuntarily gag. The half-eaten face's eyeballs are still looking at you, darting back and forth, moving.
10. You come across several rats all clustered together. You don't want to know why.
[ Step 2 ] After your character is done scavenging, simply report your findings to one of the bandits. Your work here is done.
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Baneful rolled 4 10-sided dice:
2, 10, 5, 3
Total: 20 (4-40)
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2015 6:02 am
The office building had seen better days, but then again, so had the two of them. Gilda was wrapped up in a tight haphazard bandage she had fashioned out of the trim of her shirt, leaving her in a more revealing outfit than she generally liked, though she found herself thinking that if anyone was attracted to her in her present scraped and bloodied state because she had a slightly skimpier shirt on, they had bigger things to be worried about in their lives than just the zombies. As it was she was glad to be out of the chaos and somewhere quieter, able to ignore the sick and woozy feeling a little more without noise and explosions to heighten it. Besides, it was an office building, offices more often than not had water coolers and right now getting something to drink was of the most paramount importance for both of them.
She found herself stopping herself mid-thought. Both of them. Apparently that was how it was now, she had let herself begin to think of Ras as something which she hoped to keep, to maintain. He hadn't abandoned her when all hell broke loose and she found herself sometimes thinking back to when they were surrounded and the way he had tried to shield her. It hadn't been the actions of someone who was only in it for the thrill or the taboo, it spoke of more profound attachment issues.
The poor b*****d was in deep and despite herself she had a feeling she was getting that way too, addicted to the idea of having someone who would stick by her no matter what.
It was dim, the lights didn't work and neither of them had a flashlight, so she made sure to keep Ras close, going so far as to hold his hand in her own cold and grubby one as she led the way into the office itself, squinting at every unlooted object they could make out and freezing at even the slightest hint of movement. Conversation she kept to a minimum out of necessity, but she kept closer to him than usual, more vulnerable in her caution and less demanding of his absolute obedience.
Most of the offices were a mess and the going was slow, inside what seemed like a storeroom she was hopeful that she had found a water cooler boxed up and still in its original packaging, but it turned out simply to be a repurposed box that was instead full of old receipts that someone hadn't decided to throw out. The disappointment was something she could almost taste in her dry and sticky mouth and she led the way out back into the office with the faintest hint of tears prickling the corner of her eyes.
Quote: 2. Your character finds boxes and boxes of receipts. It doesn't look very informative.
Things had not gone well for whoever had tried to hole up in this particular building she could tell, there was a smell, a smell that was distinct from the usual horrible smells of open sewers or unfortunate cleaning accidents, there was a tang in the smell that caught at the back of one's throat and threatened to make the bile rise against the already lingering nausea from the blood loss. It smelled like death, like rot, festering and lingering.
The next cubicle like-office was filled with the sound of scuffling and scrabbling and hazy light cut through from broken slats in the blinds, there were rats there, or at least something that met the same furred and seething semblance of a cluster of them. She didn't enter but once again pushed back, this time with a palm against an unharmed flat of Ras's body and steered them both onwards, a bit of desperation coming into her hold on him.
Quote: You come across several rats all clustered together. You don't want to know why.
Further along there was a room which appeared to be a cafeteria of some sort, but someone had desperately blocked it off, piling chairs and other furniture against the door from the inside, visible outlined against the clouded glass. There was a thick and crusted blood pooled at the foot of the door in sufficient quantities it had seeped through that made her doubt that anyone was in there, or if they were, that they were even still alive to free. She moved on, looking back only once at the strange room as they headed deeper into the bowels of the building, moving at times through completely pitch black rooms and feeling their way through damaged and unstable corridors.
Quote: 5. Your character notices a strange room. It seems to be locked.
When she heard a noise again, she thought it was the rats, but when it resolved into footsteps they both stopped again and she pressed back against Ras, against the wall, holding her breath as she tried not to hurt him and force him to make any sound, turning her face against him as she tried not to look at the thing, like a child ducking under covers that by turning away her gaze she'd be invisible. She listened to his heart rather than the sound of the footsteps that shuffled past and she stayed that way, pressed against him and trying not to cry at the hopelessness of the situation for some time, until they could be sure the creature was gone and they could move on.
When they did she had collected herself, but she could still smell Ras in her nose and that seemed to give her cause to hold her head a little higher and to restore some of her vitality as if she had drawn off some of his life-force into who she was.
Quote: 3. Your character turns the corner and finds one of the undying! They must remain quiet for a bit to avoid being caught. If your character wishes to fight it instead for some reason, the undying has 50 HP and does -5 auto damage.
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Toshihiko Two rolled 4 10-sided dice:
8, 8, 1, 6
Total: 23 (4-40)
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2015 7:00 am
Ras knotted his cold hand in hers, both of them pale from the injuries. Shyly, he drew her even closer, putting his arm around her to consolidate some of the heat between them.
"Don't worry," he rasped. "We'll look, like they asked, and head back to the prison." He was looking forward to sleeping tonight. The old, thin would be welcome for the company. Right now, he felt tired and dizzy. He knew it was the injuries, but neither of them could afford to lie down a while.
Back when they were home, maybe. When they were safe again.
They explored together, and when the thing shuffled past he held her tight, just as stiff, just as scared, sure it could feel the weight of his eyes or the sound of his heart, doubled against Gilda's touch. When it had passed, Ras squeezed Gilda's hand and lead her back into the labyrinth of cubicles, to finish their foraging and get out of the building.
He stopped at one of the desks, rifling for change, which he pocketed. He muffled it in an old handkerchief, so his pockets wouldn't jingle. They passed a copy room, the same terrible set of pictures scattered around the copier. He found an arm, not still moving, and checked the bracelet wrapped around the wrist.
"Not long," he stooped to murmur in Gilda's hair. "We'll get some supplies, and we'll be home."
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