[ Rolling a 4:] You feel something following you from behind the fog, and hear it breathing. It doesn't sound human, and if you dare chance to look back, you see several pairs of eyes blinking at you all at different times. The sounds continue to follow you, but the eyes are nowhere to be seen. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
[ Rolling a 5 ] Your begin to feel dizzy and nauseous as a strange sleepiness comes over you. Your limbs began to drag on and on. Eventually, you are forced to look down - to see hundreds of bodies around you, all sleeping. If you flip one over, you will notice that their faces have been forcefully stitched into smiles, and their entire chest cavity has been crudely stitched and removed, their skin bloated. You run. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
[ Rolling a 4:] You feel something following you from behind the fog, and hear it breathing. It doesn't sound human, and if you dare chance to look back, you see several pairs of eyes blinking at you all at different times. The sounds continue to follow you, but the eyes are nowhere to be seen. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
Mia didn't wait for anyone when shots started firing - his mind instantly blanked and he ran, swearing he could feel one just barely miss him.
Into the fog he went, breathing hard. He hadn't exercised in a long time, and it showed. Cardio was a thing, a thing that he needed to do, and he'd slacked for so long.
Yelping as an undying slashed at him out of the fog, Mia jerked and found a few others, realizing that they traveled in groups - he booked it, tripping over things he couldn't see, grabbing onto unknown objects, his teeth gritting together so hard that it made his head hurt - and then the voices began.
These weren't the normal voices he got used to in his mind - these were different voices, ones that chanted, ones that talked to him, ones that promised things and then turned into ones that turned sinister, striking at him verbally and stating all his insecurities that he already knew about.
He could feel his mind shift, finding himself wandering into the fog so thick he could almost grasp it, his mind completely numb.
Mia's grip on reality was already tenuous, but this just made it feel like he had complete control before.
He wondered how long until the virus would overtake him. Would Third be okay? Would Diana? Those were the only two he could remember at the moment...
And then Mia heard breathing. It made his spine crawl, and the hairs on the back of his neck rise - he chanced a look back and could feel a few years shaved off of his life by the many eyes he saw, and the way they blinked at different intervals, not all at the same time, and Mia definitely felt that he was being hunted though he had no idea what purpose he was being hunted for and now his thoughts were running rampant like a run on sentence that had no place in society.
Taking a breath, Mia began to feel dizzy and felt his limbs grow tired. He was unable to keep his head up and opened his eyes to see bodies piled up at his feet, all sleeping.
When had he wandered here, and how had he not noticed it?
Reaching down to wake one up, Mia flipped one over and the sight made him run, leaving the bodies far, far behind.
The image of its face stitched into a forever-grin and everything removed from the chest area would never leave his mind - it would haunt him for years to come.
Despite him running, Mia heard the same thing from before, glancing back to see the same variety of eyes, keeping his pace even though they were right behind him and kept on the tail end of his heels, their sound never growing distant.
Mia didn't realize his face was wet from the tears leaking out of his eyes. He was terrified.
[ Infection Rate ]: 20 /100
OOC
Character's Name: Mad Mia Character's Faction: Prison Character's Journal Link:Hey! Listen! Over Here! Character's survival stats:Mad MiaView Coins: 63 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Wiry thin with wild chin-length blond hair, and blue eyes. For clothing, he has goggles resting on his head over a llama hat. two scarves, a red shirt with a black vest, green pants, and brown boots. He looks... not quite all there in the head.
Smerdle rolled 1 6-sided dice:
3Total: 3 (1-6)
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 4:50 am
All in all, Max had been taking this ordeal surprisingly well. It wasn't that he hadn't felt nervous in the casino, it had just been a manageable terror that he had never stopped to think about, actively working to put it down instead. This was different. After the gunfire and chaos and their surprising escape, the fog had closed in, bringing with it a sourceless screaming fear that he couldn't outrun.
It didn't help that he'd lost Diana. He'd come to appreciate having the woman near, her presence a stabilizing force no matter what this new world threw at him. He wanted to call out for her, to let her know he hadn't meant to run off in the melee, but paranoia kept him from doing so. What if she had been trying to rid herself of him since they'd met? What if she was glad he had gone? He kept his mouth firmly shut.
His worry tapered to nothing as quickly as it had snuck up on him, leaving Max winded and alone. He slowed to a walk, wondering how far from the casino he had wandered and if he would ever see another survivor again. A shape appeared ahead of him in the gray gloom, a series of shapes, and in his relief Max hurried toward them, failing to notice that the fog in this clearing had dissipated completely, leaving a perfect circle of pristine air.
"Hey," he said, patting the first man he reached on the back with a chuckle. "I'm glad to see another person out of..." His fear flooded back. Max stepped away. This could be a Harbinger, a cannibal. He shouldn't have been so friendly. What had he been thinking? "Sorry," he muttered, stepping farther back. "I'm sorry."
The circle remained closed, all seven people gathered here staring straight ahead into its center and barely breathing. Max stared too, desperately searching for what they saw, as if it would give him some insight into this situation. Minutes passed. Something was coming, he was sure of it. He had to get out of here.
Quote:
Character's name: Max Porter Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:x Character's survival stats:x BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Dark brown hair and eyes. Light brown skin. Average build. Five feet, ten inches tall. Frown.
Quote:
[ Rolling a 3 ] You wander aimlessly at the fog until you reach a clearing. Instead of fog, there is just a circle of people, around eight of them. They stand there wordlessly, not even registering you. They do not move from that circle despite any communication you may attempt to them, and you are eventually forced to move away. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
Smerdle
Scamp
Offline
Smerdle rolled 1 6-sided dice:
5Total: 5 (1-6)
Smerdle
Scamp
Offline
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 4:53 am
He ran at full speed until his lungs burst and his legs went numb. The circle had been disturbed. They were chasing him. He wasn't fast enough.
A tear trailed down his cheek as exhaustion slowed him further. He could no longer feel the weight of his own despair, but in its place was an unavoidable weariness. He was dizzy, sick. He needed to rest, but he couldn't stop.
Max braced his hands on his thighs to catch his breath, bending at the waist and inadvertently staring down down down into a sea of bodies. They weren't moving, just like the ones in the clearing. For a moment he was certain they were all dead, but... they breathed. How had he not noticed? Max reached out. Touched a shoulder. The body turned, almost under its own power. It smiled up at him. Its heart thudded to a halt in its open chest.
Quote:
Character's name: Max Porter Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:x Character's survival stats:x BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Dark brown hair and eyes. Light brown skin. Average build. Five feet, ten inches tall. Frown.
Quote:
[ Rolling a 5 ] Your begin to feel dizzy and nauseous as a strange sleepiness comes over you. Your limbs began to drag on and on. Eventually, you are forced to look down - to see hundreds of bodies around you, all sleeping. If you flip one over, you will notice that their faces have been forcefully stitched into smiles, and their entire chest cavity has been crudely stitched and removed, their skin bloated. You run. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
Smerdle rolled 1 6-sided dice:
6Total: 6 (1-6)
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 4:55 am
At some point he had started running again. The very small part of his mind that was still thinking rationally told him to slow down, to try to find somebody else, a real somebody, and figure out what was going on. The rest of him had begun to speak without his permission.
You're enjoying this. A new life. No obligations. No mistakes.
He pressed his hands to his ears and kept running.
Cody. Dana. Monica. All gone. No one can fault you for abandoning them now.
Max tripped. When he hit the ground all of his breath was forced from him in a whistling rush. His arms and legs were locked. He couldn't move. He couldn't do this anymore. Funny that after everything that had happened, all of the undying he had faced and fought and lived to talk about, he would be brought to an end by himself.
Quote:
Character's name: Max Porter Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:x Character's survival stats:x BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Dark brown hair and eyes. Light brown skin. Average build. Five feet, ten inches tall. Frown.
Quote:
[ Rolling a 6 ] At last you come to the exit of the fog! You run towards it, and it seems to continue the same distance as you run on and on and on. Eventually, you realize that you were not getting any closer to the exit. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
Smerdle
Scamp
Offline
Baneful rolled 1 6-sided dice:
4Total: 4 (1-6)
Baneful Crew
Dramatic Hunter
Offline
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 4:55 am
Quote:
[ Rolling a 4:] You feel something following you from behind the fog, and hear it breathing. It doesn't sound human, and if you dare chance to look back, you see several pairs of eyes blinking at you all at different times. The sounds continue to follow you, but the eyes are nowhere to be seen. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
Gilda found herself in the fog and the first and main thing she focused on was finding Ras, at this point the man had become one of the few stable things in a rampantly changing world. They'd been told that everyone was infected, every last one of them and that made her need for the man even greater. It meant that their time was short and urgent.
She blamed herself for getting lost in the first place, stumbling through the fog and wishing she had worn more practical shoes, that she had dressed for the constant wandering and hopeless hunting for supplies. She was tired, very tired and it didn't seem to lift even after sleep any longer.
There was a sound behind her and she picked up her pace, too afraid to turn around and see what it was, knowing from the sheer rasp that it wasn't Ras, so it didn't matter, she felt vulnerable and weak, wishing that she had gathered something to help herself beyond the meagre supplies she currently had.
She looked back, once, when the sounds did not fade and spotted eyes watching her. She ran then, until she couldn't hear the noises or see the lingering eyes any longer.
OOC
▐▐ CHARACTER'S NAME>>Gilda Farrel ▐▐ CHARACTER'S FACTION>>Prison ▐▐ CHARACTER'S JOURNAL>>[x] ▐▐ CHARACTER'S STATS>>[x] ▐▐ CHARACTER'S DESCRIPTION>> Tall and blonde with sleek curves and a very severe expression and disposition.
[ Infection Rate ]: 5 /100
Baneful rolled 1 6-sided dice:
1Total: 1 (1-6)
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 4:59 am
Quote:
You walk around in the fog, entirely lost. You begin to hear someone talking to you, and it sounds like yourself. They mock you for being such a failure in the trials so far with clear examples of when. The fact that they know scares you. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
She moved on through the fog, on edge now, her pace hurried and fearful, looking back over and over, sure she could hear the breathing from earlier when there was nothing there at all.
"You can't help yourself." a voice came, and she froze, heart hammering in her chest.
"You just can't help yourself. None of this would have happened if you had stayed at your old job, if you hadn't chased the exotic. And you still chase it don't you? You are going to get both of you killed."
Wide eyed, she hunted for the source of the voice, her voice.
"You can't do anything right, he should have gone into the roulette game, maybe he would have gotten killed, maybe it'll be less horrible than what's going to happen to him if he ends up with you. You know better, you always knew better, in the casino you knew better -"
She cut it off with a hissed "No." and once again did the only thing she could do, which was run, run until it was out of her hearing and until her muscles screamed with the effort of it.
OOC
▐▐ CHARACTER'S NAME>>Gilda Farrel ▐▐ CHARACTER'S FACTION>>Prison ▐▐ CHARACTER'S JOURNAL>>[x] ▐▐ CHARACTER'S STATS>>[x] ▐▐ CHARACTER'S DESCRIPTION>> Tall and blonde with sleek curves and a very severe expression and disposition.
[ Infection Rate ]: 10 /100
Baneful Crew
Dramatic Hunter
Offline
Baneful rolled 1 6-sided dice:
2Total: 2 (1-6)
Baneful Crew
Dramatic Hunter
Offline
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 5:01 am
Quote:
You walk around the fog and trip over something. As you involuntarily look at it, you see the rotting face of someone familiar to you. Shaken, you backtrack. The body and obstacle are gone. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
She wasn't sure she could run much longer, her toes and legs singing with pain as she slowed to a trot.
"s**t." she snapped, tripping over something, catching herself painfully on her hands against the concrete. She briskly walked on a few more steps before checking what the strange soft and clothy sensation had been.
When she turned to look back she froze, gasping in terror as her worst nightmare unfolded before her, making the nausea rise in her her gut and strangling all hope out of her.
She faltered and turned, heading back in terror to the vision she'd just seen, but when she got there, the fog swirled in and it was gone. She hadn't noticed she was crying, clenching her hands and shaking with mingled relief and horror.
"I hate this." she said. "Hate it so ******** much."
OOC
▐▐ CHARACTER'S NAME>>Gilda Farrel ▐▐ CHARACTER'S FACTION>>Prison ▐▐ CHARACTER'S JOURNAL>>[x] ▐▐ CHARACTER'S STATS>>[x] ▐▐ CHARACTER'S DESCRIPTION>> Tall and blonde with sleek curves and a very severe expression and disposition.
He was apart from Gilda again, even though he'd promised her he wouldn't lose her. They hadn't been far from each other. He could have touched her, they were so close.
But all of a sudden, the fog became so thick it was a solid wall, and when he did reach out for her, there was nothing. He walked, he whispered uneasily. For a while, he gave up and just stayed in one place, hoping that Gilda would come find him.
Hours seemed to pass.
The fog was cold. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly. He sang to himself, a little. He was good with dealing with isolation and boredom. He had been doing so for a long time. The endless fog might as well be concrete walls.
It was an answering voice, a shift of movement, that made him move again. He thought, maybe, he heard his name. "Gilda?" he asked hopefully, nearly stumbling over himself in the direction of his voice. He rushed, calling out, "Doctor!" chasing the singular flicker of movement- and then he did stumble.
Something soft struck his foot.
When he turned to see what it was, already feeling a sick sort of familiar feeling in his stomach from the consistency- to much like a living thing, like stepping on a fish in a lake, he screamed, throat raw and repeating one name only.
He tried to get to her, to hold her, and why was her face...? How? How long had he been wandering in the fog? But the fog rolled in again, and he was left grasping nothing.
His grief was all consuming, his throat raw. The whispering increased, and there was some kind of inhuman crunching nearby. He ran in small, panicked circles, not straying far from where he thought the body had been, but there were no landmarks.
Eyes that didn't belong to a body appeared, he thought, in the fog.
"Gilda," he sobbed, "Gilda, Gilda, Gilda-"
When he fell to his knees again, kneeling into the ground, he felt something soft by his fingers.
When he looked up, they were tangled in blonde hair, and a stiff, sloughed face, green, it was all green, and this time he pushed out his arms to draw her close to him and never let her go, he had promised, he had promised- but again, the body disappeared into nothing, slipping between his fingers into pure fog, and he was left crying, ugly and raw to himself, on the grounds.
25/100
Quote:
You walk around the fog and trip over something. As you involuntarily look at it, you see the rotting face of someone familiar to you. Shaken, you backtrack. The body and obstacle are gone. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ]. (x2)
[ Rolling a 4:] You feel something following you from behind the fog, and hear it breathing. It doesn't sound human, and if you dare chance to look back, you see several pairs of eyes blinking at you all at different times. The sounds continue to follow you, but the eyes are nowhere to be seen. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
Ritsa stumbled forward, tears were drying trails on her face. Her eyes were puffy from all the sobbing she had been doing for the last few minutes. She had actually killed Jeff. Not Guy, even though he had eaten him. Not Eights, she had been an innocent bystander like G-man. No, she had said words in a desperate attempt to get the attention of the Chef and the waitress away from Jeff. In the end all she had done was make a bad situation worse, and she was having a very very hard time living with it.
Folding her arms across her chest Ritsa stumbled over a rock, the fog she now found herself in was thick, and worse yet she felt like she was being followed. Like they were watching her from the casino, wanting to know just what she would do. The image of Jeff being wheeled away as she, yelled to have him returned burned into her mind bringing life to a fresh wave of wailing and tears. In the commotion she had lost both G-man, Eights and worst of all Lissa. Her arms tightened around her as she looked back to see who was following her. No one was there, something was wrong. Oh she deserved to die, living after what she had done was a punishment she didn't want. It was worse than the death penalty.
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 5/100 Character's name: Ritsa Tiblon Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: GO Ritsa TiblonView BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Slender build, Auburn hair that has been tied back into two separate braids reaching down to her hips. And blue eyes. She stands about 5'1''. Costume: What the avatar is wearing Rank: 3 Casino Coins: 1
[ Rolling a 2 ] You walk around the fog and trip over something. As you involuntarily look at it, you see the rotting face of someone familiar to you. Shaken, you backtrack. The body and obstacle are gone. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ]. [ Rolling a 5 ] Your begin to feel dizzy and nauseous as a strange sleepiness comes over you. Your limbs began to drag on and on. Eventually, you are forced to look down - to see hundreds of bodies around you, all sleeping. If you flip one over, you will notice that their faces have been forcefully stitched into smiles, and their entire chest cavity has been crudely stitched and removed, their skin bloated. You run. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ]. [ Rolling a 6 ] At last you come to the exit of the fog! You run towards it, and it seems to continue the same distance as you run on and on and on. Eventually, you realize that you were not getting any closer to the exit. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
It started out with a scream, then a bang, and then there was shouting all over the place. Someone didn't get saved, that much he knew, and then everything began to spiral out of control.
You have all been infected.
And the cure was best served fresh? The understanding would paralyze him, and all thoughts were swept to the back of his mind. They had to get out of here, fast.
The lights went out, and the scramble began. Peter stayed back to drag a few students out of their seats, calling for them to get the hell out of the place. He took a glance back, but was quickly dissuaded as more shots of gunfire burst through the air. He started to run.
Was there a fire? The after-effects of the fireworks? The man coughs into his shirt, eyes darting around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The area was engulfed in a thick fog, and it was hard to see the way back.
A hand clawed out at him, and he barely dodged it in time. At a close distance, he could see figures emerging from the fog, their motion jerky and unpredictable.
Soon, he'd become one of them.
Banish the thought, he commanded himself, staggering forward blindly. Not now.
A sickening itch crawled up from the back of his neck, making its way to to his head. The whispers in the air had gotten more intense, and he could have sworn that he had heard his mother's voice. It was a lie, he knew it, she was no where even near this place. Laughter and taunting took its place, familiar voices and familiar phrases condemning him as an unfilial son, who didn't know what was good for him or his family.
He landed face first, coughing and struggling to crawl to his feet. Eyes were cast upon something at his side – a face all too familiar.
“Brother?” he stammered out.
The face began to rot rapidly, morphing into something completely unrecognizable. It's not real, it's not real, he reminded himself, they're not even here.
His head began to ring and a sour taste had crept up his throat, stopping him to lurch forward and spit it out. Through watery eyes he could see hundreds of bodies laying on the ground, sleeping. “Hey, hey wake up!” he shook the nearest one by him, jerking back in horror as he saw the state it was in.
And so he forced himself to run, even though it meant him dragging his leaden feet along. He could already see it, the fog was clearing up ahead. He willed himself forward, one step at a time. Why, why was he not there yet? he began to panic, moving along quicker. He could clearly see the fog getting thinner.
Peter squeezed his eyes shut and charged forward. His body could lie to him, but his mind wouldn't.
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 25 /100 Character's name: Prof. Peter Kim Character's faction: University Character's journal link:here Character's survival stats: Peter KimView Jersey Number: 19 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER a slightly haggard looking middle-aged man. Grey-haired, perpetually sighing and cleaning his dusty spectacles
[1/3]: [ Rolling 1 ] You walk around in the fog, entirely lost. You begin to hear someone talking to you, and it sounds like yourself. They mock you for being such a failure in the trials so far with clear examples of when. The fact that they know scares you. [ +5 infection ].
Anya, the instant the lights turned off, headed for the walls of the casino, wanting to get out of the pushing shoving mob as everyone had the same idea to flee all at once. These people thought eating others would uninfect them? All that would do is give you more health issues! She dropped the now useless coins she'd not been able to use to help anyone with and slunk away, grateful the darkness kept her from being seen by the gun owners. But outside was just as bad. Fog covered everything. She couldn't hear anyone, couldn't see anyone... But she needed to get away. And so Anya ran out into the curling cloud that blanketed everything. She could still hear the rat a tating of the guns and fled faster. She would not die here to be eaten… never. The fog was weird, tit was too thick, too close. She tripped over something and couldn’t even see it. She could barely see her hands if she held them out… She slowed down and that saved her life. Out of the fog an infected stumbled right where she would have been. Anya grabbed her knife and slashed at it as she backpeddled and fled in a different direction.
Soon she heard whispers. Whispers mixed with the sound of the stumbling infected footsteps. Family’s voices… friends. Soothing…. But then they changed, no more welcoming, no more soothing voices. Mean words, harsh whispers tore at her mind. Until all she hear was “Everyone is infected.” Slithering through her mind with barely heard and understood whispers all around her.
Need to get out. She thought. I need to.. not give in. Don’t break. Don’t listen. Just.. run. Then her own voice came to mock her. “Stupid coward. You could have helped sooner.. you could have fought more. But no.. you hide in the closet. You hid in the room while others worked hard. Dead weight.”
No! She helped.. she found things.. she’d suppressed a few infected! “After they dragged you out of your room and made you help yeah... useless trash.” She shivered and tried to block out that voice. But it stayed there, mocking her, joining the announcers voice declaring them al infected, that they’d be better off dead and eaten. Leave the fog, she thought. I need to.. this.. this is wrong. This is weird. Where am I? Where do I go from here? What do I do. She stood and looked around at the world of swirling white fog all around her, trying to find herself and not go mad.
(430 words) OOC:[ Infection Rate ]: 5 /100
OOC
Character's name: Anya IC Wounds: None atm Character's faction: University Character's journal link:ola! Character's survival stats: Mini site BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Quiet and gamer girl Slightly wavy black hair, blue eyes, light brown skin with a scattering of freckles. Average height, average looks. Has some meat on her bones. Usually wears jeans, a black t-shirt and bright blue convers. Has simple blackrimmed glasses with an N7 symbol on the right side.
[ Rolling a 4:] You feel something following you from behind the fog, and hear it breathing. It doesn't sound human, and if you dare chance to look back, you see several pairs of eyes blinking at you all at different times. The sounds continue to follow you, but the eyes are nowhere to be seen. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
x2 [ Rolling a 2 ] You walk around the fog and trip over something. As you involuntarily look at it, you see the rotting face of someone familiar to you. Shaken, you backtrack. The body and obstacle are gone. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
The Casino had been sick. Rotten to its core - Sylvi hadn't managed to put the clues together, hadn't seen the bigger picture until the end when someone had actually said it and then everything made sense in hindsight. The things the attendants had said, the mutterings of the restaurant, everything.
But if that was the only cure for the infection, she wasn't sure she wanted to be cured. What was the point, if she wasn't even going to be a person she recognized afterwards?
There hadn't been much time to mull things over though; things had escalated and then right before she was sure it was all going to s**t, once again, the power gave out and they had a chance to escape.
She took it, no questions asked. She'd joined the mass of people moving out of the Casino, panicked and determined that this was not how it was going to end.
And she'd actually made it out, had ran off in a random direction as soon as she was outside. It didn't matter which way it was, only that it was away from the Casino.
The fog, well, the fog didn't concern her at first. The Casino employees seemed the more threatening prospect and all she'd been concerned about was putting mileage between them and herself. It'd been panic, pure gut instinct.
And then, after a while, it set in just how oppressive the fog was. She couldn't see, everything was just grey. Looking down, she could make out her hands and body, vaguely her legs and feet, but that was about as far as she had sight.
That was when the first infected found her. It lunged, and on instinct she dodged, scrambling up from her landing to get away. Maybe it'd been the sound of her frantic running and desperate gasps for air drawing them in, but more soon followed the first one after her.
The fog became denser. Soon she could barely make out her hands, was tripping over everything and nothing, hearing nothing except the noises she made herself.
In the beginning, at least. Then came the whispers; low murmurs of voices that sounded almost-familiar but were too low-pitched to hear properly. They rose, becoming more and more audible until in the end it was a chorus of people she'd known, some she'd loved, echoing regrets and fears and failures, things she'd said but hadn't meant and ended up bitterly regretting later. The things that made up a life but which no-one wished to dwell upon. The cacophony became louder, until one single voice rang out over all the others: the man in the carnival mask from the Casino.
"Everyone is infected."
Everyone is infected everyone is infectedeveryoneisinfectedeveryoneisinfected-
It went on and on and on until she'd lost her focus, disconnected from herself, started wondering if this was all she had fought for. Everyone is infected - when, then, would she become one of the undying? Tomorrow? A week from now? In an hour?
It was a thought that might really have driven her to the brink - it was then, however, that she became aware of something following her, something breathing heavily, in a way that she'd never heard any human do.
She didn't look backwards. She couldn't. If she did, if she looked backwards or stopped now, she'd never get going again. This would be the end, she thought, for sure.
She carried on, ever mindful of whatever was following her, as voices occasionally spoke in her head. Sometimes it was her own, sometimes...
Sylvi mechanically carried on, right up until she tripped over something laying on the ground, something soft and hard and strangely human-shaped oh god it was her mom or had been, at some point, because the face was rotting away, maggots crawling out of one eyeball and half the face eaten away, the rest of it the pale miscolour of a corpse laid out too long-
she scrambled, got to her feet and ran back the way she'd come. It wasn't real, her mom wasn't here, wouldn't be anywhere near here but the image of the corpse hung in her mind as she desperately ran.
And then she fell, again, tripping over something, someone, as she saw a face she hadn't seen since she was 13 years old and again the rot, the decay; she gagged, throwing a hand up to cover her mouth as she wept, shakily getting back to her feet and getting out of there.
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 25 /100
Character's name: Sylvi Ravnholt Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:Link Character's survival stats: Stats BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Toned and athletic without being super buff, 177cm tall, wider than average hips, small to medium boobs. More bottom heavy than top heavy. reference
[2/3]: [ Rolling a 2 ] You walk around the fog and trip over something. As you involuntarily look at it, you see the rotting face of someone familiar to you. Shaken, you backtrack. The body and obstacle are gone. [ +10 infection ].
As she wandered, Anya tripped again, and the fog swirled aside to reveal her younger brothers face. She gasped and scrambled back. No! No! He wasn't here.. he was back home.. safe....She took a deep breath and ignored the mocking voices that still whispered in her mind. She looked back but it was gone.. she had to check.... But nothing was on the ground; nothing but slightly broken asphalt. What had she tripped on?
OOC:[ Infection Rate ]: 15 /100
OOC
Character's name: Anya IC Wounds: None atm Character's faction: University Character's journal link:ola! Character's survival stats: Mini site BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Quiet and gamer girl Slightly wavy black hair, blue eyes, light brown skin with a scattering of freckles. Average height, average looks. Has some meat on her bones. Usually wears jeans, a black t-shirt and bright blue convers. Has simple blackrimmed glasses with an N7 symbol on the right side.
[3/3]: [ Rolling a 5 ] Your begin to feel dizzy and nauseous as a strange sleepiness comes over you. Your limbs began to drag on and on. Eventually, you are forced to look down - to see hundreds of bodies around you, all sleeping. If you flip one over, you will notice that their faces have been forcefully stitched into smiles, and their entire chest cavity has been crudely stitched and removed, their skin bloated. You run. [ +10 infection]
She stood up and staggered off, feeling nauseous. As she walked on through the muffled sounds of the fog a feeling of exhaustion fell over her, it was so bad she wanted to curl up and go to sleep.. but no. She slapped her face. Stay awake! It wasn't safe out here.. you can't go to sleep out here. She looked around to try and stay awake, find something, anything, to keep her from sleeping.
The fog swirled and she could see a bit; bodies all around. Sleeping bodies carpeting the ground. She used her foot to flip one over and covered her mouth to keep a gasp from escaping. It was dead... the face stitched into a grotesque smile, the chest gone and the disgusting puffiness all over their body like that of a bloated drowned body. She turned and ran.
Coward coward~ Mocked her voice in her mind. Running away again? It laughed and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. OOC:[ Infection Rate ]: 25 /100
OOC
Character's name: Anya IC Wounds: None atm Character's faction: University Character's journal link:ola! Character's survival stats: Mini site BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Quiet and gamer girl Slightly wavy black hair, blue eyes, light brown skin with a scattering of freckles. Average height, average looks. Has some meat on her bones. Usually wears jeans, a black t-shirt and bright blue convers. Has simple blackrimmed glasses with an N7 symbol on the right side.
Escaping the casino hand in hand with Al had been both a moment of great relief and tremendous exhaustion. They had spent the entire day scraping and risking coin after coin to pay for their freedom, only for the day to end in sheer panic as the true intentions of the casino were revealed. She had been resigned to her fate of becoming the next dinner for the monsters, but thanks to the remarkable timing of the power going out, they all had been saved in the nick of time. They were out of that Hell...and now forced into a fog? And what had that monster mean...everyone was infected?
The fog was dense - the air had been dirty, but nothing like this when they had left the tattered city and walked into the Delta Casino. There was an uneasy feeling that surrounded them as they stepped further and further into the eerie mist.
Rolling a 2
You walk around the fog and trip over something. As you involuntarily look at it, you see the rotting face of someone familiar to you. Shaken, you backtrack. The body and obstacle are gone. [ +10 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
The fog was so dense, she could barely see Al's face as they walked together in silence. His outline showed a grim expression - he was no doubt just as concerned as she was, though he said nothing to reveal his thoughts.
One step more and her foot tripped on a wayward rock, sending her flying forward. If it hadn't been for Al's firm grip, she might have fallen flat on her face, but his strong hold helped her regain her balance.
She glanced down to glare at the offending rock...but there was no rock. A shriek escaped from between her lips as she saw the rotting face of none other than her little sister, Babs. How the hell had Babs gotten to this town? Had she traveled up from the States just to find her during this apocalypse? What had happened to her precious baby sister?
Her shrieking had Al forcing her close against his chest, the man obviously startled by her sudden screaming. He searched for the source of her terror and between broken sobs, she turned back to point at the gruesome remains of her sibling...only to find nothing there. There was no body, no anguished expression across a bleeding, ripped up face. Nothing.
She collapsed to the ground, fingers searching desperately for the body she knew she'd just seen. What...what kind of tricks was her mind playing? No...no, the lack of sleep must be getting to her. Slowly, she rose to her feet and took her husband's hand once again. Shaking her head, they silently continued onward.
Rolling a 4
You feel something following you from behind the fog, and hear it breathing. It doesn't sound human, and if you dare chance to look back, you see several pairs of eyes blinking at you all at different times. The sounds continue to follow you, but the eyes are nowhere to be seen. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
It didn't take long for the uneasy feeling to come over her again. Still shaken by the thought of her sister falling victim to a horrible fate by the undead, she knew it wouldn't take much to rattle her. So when the soft sounds of breathing reached her ears, a shiver ran down her spine.
Quickly turning around, she readied herself for a fight with an undead. Instead of coming face to face with a murderous zombie, she saw various pairs of eyes peering back at her from the thickness of the fog. They were all staring, some glaring, all watching.
Her hand jerked at Al's, motioning for him to turn and see. Turning back, she drew close enough to softly whisper, "A-Al, there's something behind us."
But again, as she turned back...nothing was there.
Rolling a 1
You walk around in the fog, entirely lost. You begin to hear someone talking to you, and it sounds like yourself. They mock you for being such a failure in the trials so far with clear examples of when. The fact that they know scares you. [ +5 infection, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
Lola had finally assigned the sounds of the breathing to something - anything - that wasn't a terrifying thought to think about. Maybe there were other people from the other places - the university, the apartments? Maybe they were terrified too and they were staying quiet so that they wouldn't attract undesired attention. Maybe.
"Are you really that stupid?"
The voice sounded both familiar and foreign. She turned to look up at her husband, who continued to silently trek forward. He hadn't appeared to hear anything at all...maybe her mind was playing tricks on her again. Shrugging it off, she continued forward, squeezing his hand tighter.
"What, you're not going to worry him again about your overactive imagination?"
Eyes widening, she glanced at Al again. Still, no reaction. She knew she heard a voice, a woman's voice, talking. But if Al didn't hear it, could her imagination really be doing overtime?
"You should probably just let go and give him an actual chance out there. It's not like you're any actual help to him."
The shiver ran down her spine again and she felt herself grow dizzy as she realized where she'd heard the voice from. It was her own.
"Shooting a gun? Yeah right. Hell, you almost got him and your own fat a** killed just by walking to a radio tower. You couldn't protect your own life, much less his."
She closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly as she fought back the tears. What was going on? Why was she...who was she...how did they mimic her...and why wasn't Al noticing this?
When they reached the building, she almost cried from relief. Finally, an escape from the fog...but what new nightmare where they now stepping into?
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 20/100
Character's name: Lola Malcom Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:[x] Character's survival stats: [X] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER 5'2, chubby woman with bleached-blonde teased hair. Black leggings, leopard print top. She's fairly outgoing but under present circumstances, probably very curt. Typically somewhat clever, though has never had to adjust to a situation quite like this one before.
Tsunake
permission for minor couple's godmodding given and received per previous chattings.
