[ 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, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
It was like watching a scene of being chased, just the prey was her this time. The watch delayed with low battery reminded her of the time she was in the mist roughly, losing the sight of the infected and she slowed down her tempo. It took a while to resume her normal breathing cadence, the ups and downs of her body stilled much. Though walking, she was watchful of the surrounding. The thick white fog was a disadvantage in cases of sudden assault. She lit her torch, the red runes supposed to be eerie in a situation like that surprisingly gave her warmth. It's dangerous to go alone. Take this. - Jeff. She had no idea why the man had noticed her, she wasn't as enthusiastic as Megan who contributed the faction with new information. Gretel was quiet, her existence was as humdrum as like and remained unnoticed unless she actively drew attention.
Yet, the bartender noticed her. He worried about her health when she was starving and alcohol didn't work much in easing her thirst. He saved her life but she couldn't save his. Without a radio, she didn't know Guy acted up and Jeff was tortured in the restaurant. Without enough coins, she couldn't enter the restaurant to stop it happened. Notwithstanding, she didn't know it yet. When she returned from radio tower, the moment she saw Jeff and knew the shocking news, she wanted to hug him but she didn't. Gretel realized she got attached to the man, a feeling resembled friendship. She was unlike herself when she asked whoever she knew about Jeff, she knew she was just a human being.
Gretel clutched the torch, the small paper found with it was neatly folded and kept, she didn't let it of it even she tripped over something. The light of the torch hit feebly onto the fog, didn't pass through, yet it provided better vision thankfully.
You're such a loser. Her ears caught some noises, a cold merciless voice. She held her breathe and listened. You didn't find any foods and drinks until he gave you some. The voice continued after a few steps of silence. "Who's there?" Gretel asked, grey eyes darted around her periphery. You know it right, you're nothing. You might be the elite at school, but you're so useless in your faction. "Who are you?" This time, her voice was sterner. You can't deny it, when most people have a radio and getting useful information, you knew nothing. You can simply tell yourself your theory hold as to be not completely useless. Gretel ran, but the voice at one time sounded near, one time sounded afar. The young lady hated that, something lurking and the uncertainty.
If not the old lady gave you some coins, you might be already served flesh in restaurant. Her heart skipped a beat at her words, in astonishment of how much she knew about her. Has someone been watching her behind? That idea gave her goosebumps, covering her ears, she ran again.
OOC
Character's name: Gretel Sweet Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:HERE Character's survival stats: GO BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: 23, Grey eyes, short hair dyed in silver grey and wearing a pair of lavender colored frame. Don't ask about Hansel :/ [ LOOK LIKE THIS ]
[ Infection Rate ]: 10 /100
Meegane rolled 1 6-sided dice:
2Total: 2 (1-6)
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 12:15 pm
Quote:
[ 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 voice didn't fade and more different voices joined in. "Gretel, listen to me, let me explain." He was the one hurt her badly in the past, despite they didn't talk for years, she recognized his voice almost immediately. Just... come back safe, okay? Whatever's up there isn't worth risking your life. She couldn't escape the voices, Rebecca was no longer with them, so it must be her hallucinations. The kind lady had lost her life. "Thanks, kid. Take care, you look like you a damned ghost." She didn't find him in the casino, he was bought and she still wanted to see Jeff when she was out the fog. "You're not giving up, are you?" Inside the casino, Rebecca's replacement asked with a disappointing voice. "It's your fault, you didn't catch it. Don't you dare to tell anyone! It fell into my bag and no one would want things from a weirdo, I'm so afraid to become one like you!" The sharp voice of her roommate impeached upon her. Covering her ears didn't help with blocking the voices, the scattered noises gradually came into a unison, saying: Everyone is infected.
The light from the torch flickered in her shaking hands, the thought of she was infected and would soon become walking dead feared Gretel. Who was her? Is the soul lingering in the mist simply her lost soul? She couldn't help but wondered, more awful thoughts formed and her mind laden with craziness and bewilderment.
She fell, and before the torch lost sight within the fog wrapping it up, she reached out for it. Still in the same posture, she flashed the light onto the object that tripped her. "!" She gulped in frozen stupefaction, it was the rotting face of Jeff. That can't be, he can't be dead......The fleshes of his cheek pulled down and slid like flummery but emitted putrid smell. She climbed up helplessly, in vehement denial, she backtracked into the mist while shaking her head. The light jiggled frantically with her unmindful movements.
OOC
Character's name: Gretel Sweet Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:HERE Character's survival stats: GO BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: 23, Grey eyes, short hair dyed in silver grey and wearing a pair of lavender colored frame. Don't ask about Hansel :/ [ LOOK LIKE THIS ]
With the helhole of a casino behind them, Al held tight to Lola's hand as they forged their way through the fog. Christ, he couldn't see a goddamn thing. He was scared to let go of Lola's hand, his mind already playing tricks on him. God knows they could be surrounded by undying already, marching closer and closer to their deaths...
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 ].
"Some ******** man you are."
Al jerked to a halt, straining his ears to try and figure out where the ******** that voice had come from. He could feel his wife's worried eyes on him, but he didn't have time to reassure her. He couldn't see anyone. They might as well have been alone, but they clearly weren't.
"Couldn't even save your goddamn wife. Someone else had to buy her. You proud of yourself? Bet you are, you pathetic piece of s**t. She's safe, right? God forbid you actually do something for once in your life."
Al's eyes were growing a little wild, frantically searching. Who the ******** was that? It sounded like--his dad, almost, but that couldn't be. His dad was dead, had been for ages.
"Better hope you're brave enough to put that pretty shovel in her brain if she starts to turn."
It wasn't his dad's voice at all--it was his. His breathing was shallow, and he could hear Lola asking him what was wrong. Didn't she hear it? How could she not? "Nothing," He said hoarsely. "Let's keep going."
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 ].
Oh, Christ, there it was again.
Al's breathing was growing shallower every time he heard that soft rattle of breath behind them, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. If he did that, his mind reasoned, he would die. Whatever it was would pounce, tear his spine from between his shoulder blades and flay what was left of his corpse.
His jaw ached from how hard he was clamping his teeth together, and though Lola tried to ask him what was wrong, he shook his head with a jerk. Making too much noise might entice it into attacking.
His pace quickened in an attempt to outrun their mysterious stalker, but that horrible breathing dogged his steps no matter what he did. When Al finally risked a glance over his shoulder, he was rewarded with the sight of dozens of glittering eyes blinking back at him. His heart seized in his chest, and the man had to resist the urge to break out in the run.
Christ. They just had to keep moving.
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 ].
The farther he walked, the more sick he felt. Al wasn't sure what the hell was happening, but his stomach was roiling. It felt like his limbs were made of lead, and the big man found himself struggling to keep moving forward. Breathing raggedly through his teeth, he dropped his jaw after a moment, staring at his feet as though that would will them to keep moving.
That was when he saw the bodies.
Why were there so many bodies?
Al kept moving, his brow furrowing with worry until, eventually, he paused to turn a body over. Oh, no, oh, god. It was Athena, her mouth stitched into a dreamy grin even as he stared into the hole that was her chest cavity. She'd been dead for quite some time, and Al felt bile rise hot in his throat.
He snatched Lola's hand, ignoring her shout of surprise as he took off, stumbling and running away from the bodies of the dead. They had to escape.
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 20 /100 Character's name: Al Malcom Characters faction: Prison Character's journal link: Characters survival stats:View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Al is a rough looking individual, usually sporting a five o'clock. He's a big guy at about 6'3", strong, but sporting a bit of a belly these days. His right arm and the right side of his body is covered in tattoos like so. He sports dark hair and dark eyes, and normally dresses in very casual clothing. You know, when he's not toting that snazzy inmate outfit.
[ 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 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 ].
You begin take a direction running from the casino - it doesn't matter where. All that matters is that you are as far away from the sounds of gunfire and screams as possible. It is grey all around you, just layers and layers of thick fog. You hear something, and barely avoid one of the infected lunging out, clawing at you. Several more follow your path.
As you run further, the fog grows almost unbearable, a thick, cloistering white. You trip over things you cannot see. You grab onto things you cannot completely hear. You feel blinded, as if trapped in an infinite space. It is impossible to tell if any of the infected or undying are nearby.
Voices begin to talk to you. They start off as familiar voices, friends, family perhaps. They became more menacing, more sinister, taking over what little sanity you had left. They echo your past regrets, they mimic conversations you've had before, and then a familiar voice rings out in your head, if you were just at the casino. "Everyone is infected". It plays over and over and over.
You feel a strange itch as something snaps within you. Your mind begins to wander and you realize you have lost your sense of reality. It is very possible, the longer you stay, the less you will stay yourself. You wonder when you will succumb to the virus.
The fog became thicker and thicker and Leiah soon found herself touching and grabbing onto things. She couldn't tell who or what they were, causing the poor girl to freak out. Lei Lei....Over here! was that? "Jbug?! Jade?!" she ran to the right, hands out in front of her to try and grab only to find air. Mommy you silly goose! THIS WAY YOU MURDERER! Leiah stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and shaking like a leaf. The need to just collapse and curl up onto the floor was overwhelming, but she pushed on. She wasn't a murder, she did what she had to....
MURDERER!
She grabbed at her head, bolting in whatever direction she was heading in the first place. Everyone is infected! The mantra repeated itself over and over, the voice she was hearing sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. Her hands clawed and pulled at her hair while she tired to figure out the voice's owner. Leiah flinched and looked behind her with wild eyes when she heard breathing, thinking it was an infected. Instead, what she saw were eyes, several, just blinking and staring at her.
"Y-You're not real! Stop looking at me! I'm not a murderer!!!!"
She turned tail and ran, but the breathing followed her.
The further into the fog she went, she began to get sleepy whether she wanted to or not, her limbs dragging on and on, slower and slower. Leiah screamed in pain as she head was literally pushed down, some unknown force making her look at the sight before her. There were bodies, but it seemed like they were sleeping, gosh she was tired...Maybe she should sleep too...Leiah gently moves one body over, intent on making room so she could sleep, only to scream once more at the stitched up face that greeted her, their lips forever stretched in a creepy jokeresque smile. Why was there no chest?! What is this?!
Leiah ran like the devil was at her heels, only for the same sleepiness to come over her again, except she knew what it was this time. Tears poured from her eyes as she was once again forced to look down, the body that she flipped over already staring at her with that same smile once more. What? Don't you recognize your own mother? Once more, she ran only this time she tripped, scrapping her chin. There wasn't a fog anymore, but a building. One that ordinarily would've looked creepy had she been of the right frame of mind, but instead it screamed safety. Leiah didn't hesitate, didn't think, and didn't pay attention as she picked her self up. She ran inside the building, slamming the doors behind her only to find herself in pitch black darkness.
At least it was better than being out there with the voices and pangs of regret.
Rorrow looked around, panic setting in. He knew Cecil had been next to him when they ran out...Hitsu was nearby as well. Where did all this fog come from? He wrung his hands together looking around for his two friends. "Cecil!!! Hitsu!!! ...." he whimpered. "...Corven..."
He felt tears come to his eyes, wiping them away his feet caught on something. A sharp yelp left him as he fell to the ground, shuffling he felt his feet kept kicking something. He whimpered and whined till he looked down at his feet. Then felt all his blood freeze...his foot frozen in mid push. It rested on the chest of what he thought was his only friend in the world. Micah. The male was someone that both twins would say was a close friend. Closer to Rorrow who he shared many likes with, rather than Corven who was more his gaming buddy. Rorrow would admit at one point he did have a serious crush on the male. Sadly that ended after Micah got his current girlfriend pregnant and tried to use Rorrow's feelings against him. After that scandal was over Rorrow, Corven and Micah grew a touch distant. Rorrow did miss his friend...but to see this. He choked on air as he scrambled up and away, he turned back to see nothing on the ground. Shivering Rorrow kept running....
He ran into a clearing. Slowing to a stop he glanced nervously around at the circle. God this was creepy...he didn't try to go near any of them...he rather not get closer to anyone else today. Panting harshly he felt a panic attack start to set in. He looked around them one last time before taking off like a bat out of hell.
He started coughing and weezing after a bit. Slowing to a stop he felt fatigue set in...crap he overdid it. His body wanted to lay down and sleep...he wanted to sleep. He rubbed at his eyes, red now from crying...his gaze pointed downward he saw something on the ground below him. He waved the fog away to see the body, face down and noticed there were more. He was sleepy therefore his fear wasn't a huge factor in his judgment. He flipped them over, then reeled back. The sitched smile would forever be etched in his mind as he screamed. Covering his mouth he dry heaved a little before running....
He came up to the hospital gates...eyes red from crying, throat horse from screaming and breathing hard. Pushed them open and stumbled inside...all he wanted was to find his friends now.
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 30 /100 Character's name: Rorrow Graves Character's faction: Univeristy Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: Rorrow Graves #26 View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER 6', Slender Build/Bookworm, Really good at kicking if need be. Long chesnut hair, kept in twin tails at most times. Green eyes, glasses as he has a slight depth issue. Always has a messenger bag with him. Jersey Number: 11
OUTOFMYMIND
OMG SERIOUSLY HOW DOES HE ROLL ALL THREE +10'S?!?
PROMPTS
[ 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 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 ].
[ 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 ].
Jaglion rolled 1 6-sided dice:
3Total: 3 (1-6)
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 12:39 pm
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 ].
He had to slow down after a while, and he wandered around the fog aimlessly trying to find the way out. He didn't know if he was looking for the university, or just someplace safe, just something that wasn't fog. He could see what might be a clearing, and when he approached, he could see a circle of people just standing there. "Hello?" No response. "Um....Do you guys know how to get out of here?" Still no response. It seemed safe enough here but Dylan didn't trust it.
He needed to keep moving.
Quote:
[ Infection Rate ]: 20/100
OOC
Character's name: Dylan Sallow Character's faction: University Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: HERE Jersey Number: 31 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER 20 years old. Dylan is 5'9 with a lean runner's build. His skin is a pale beige and covered in freckles. He has short carrot orange hair, and dark blue eyes. He typically wears jeans and plain colored t-shirts. He is currently wearing a jersey with the number 31 on it.
Everyone is infected. s**t. So it was too late after all.
Ingrid could barely see a thing in the fog. She had no idea where she was going. She had her umbrella, she had her keycard, and that was all that mattered, right?
She nearly tripped over something and flinched. Reaching down, she picked it up, bringing it to her face to see that it was a knife. She was lucky she hadn't picked it up by the blade.
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 ].
She kept moving. She could hear something breathing heavily over her shoulder, and she picked up the pace. So did whoever was following her. Whatever was following her. Ingrid didn't dare look back.
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 ].
Ingrid's eyes fixed on something up in the distance - a familiar building. At least, she thought it was familiar. She kept moving, struggling to ignore whatever was following her. The building didn't seem to be getting any closer, and when she blinked, she realized she didn't know where it was anymore.
Quote:
[ 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, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
She slowed down. So did the noises following her.
You're a mess.
Had she said that? She hadn't, had she?
Coward. You don't take risks. You stole somebody else's coins to buy your own freedom.
"Nobody was there," she muttered. s**t, was she talking to herself now?
OOC
Character's name: Ingrid Liu Character's faction: Apartments Character's journal link: [ x ] Character's survival stats: [ x ] DESCRIPTION: Twenty-four years old. Five feet, three inches. Lime green lab goggles. Lime green umbrella. Lime green LED wristwatch. Black-and-white polka-dot scarf. You may have heard her voice before - DJ Grid of RADIO DELTA.
[ 1- 20 ] Voices whisper in your character's head, and they don't exactly always sound like your own character's. You feel a sense of uneasiness and paranoia. It feels like people are looking at you when they possibly are not. You feel terrified at the smallest of noises.
As she ran through the suffocating fog with knife in hand, Ellie had to wonder how she'd gotten here...
----
Like many others who's freedom was assured, Ellie was simply wandering around the Casino. That was, until a man in a white mask appeared and announced the 'game' was over... The terrified screams of a woman as she was carried off, really hit everything home... She felt her stomach knot sickeningly as she heard what the true purpose of the Casino was... She had to wonder if the woman she patroned for was even still alive now... They were told that they were all already infected... And that the only 'cure' was to do as they did... They were mad... Things only got worse as a man was killed on the spot by gunfire! Naturally, she moved back away from the corpse, fearing he'd rise as the Undying!
It seemed as if even buying herself wasn't enough... She'd die here too... But! Just as the man made to order the unbought's capture, it seemed as if the building itself was protesting the atrocities! It groaned before the lights blinked once, twice, then thrice before going out completely! And then there was chaos! Like everybody else was, Ellie made for the door! Somehow however, she trips and hit the floor and kitchen knife was kicked near her hand! Without even thinking, she grabs the makeshift weapon before finally getting back to her feet and getting out!
Out into what was the question! Suddenly, as she dashes out of the building, she runs right into a fog so thick she couldn't see a foot in front of her! The thick fog felt so heavy and suffocating... For a brief moment she stops to try and catch her breath, but the sounds of gunfire behind her gets her moving again! She couldn't breath, but she kept running! She couldn't think clearly, but she kept running! Breathy distant voices that sounded almost familiar assaulted her from every direction, but she kept running! Even as her mind wandered to the familiar voice, to the words "Your all Infected already" she just ignored it and kept running, A Infected lunges out to grab her, but she simply dodges it and just keeps running!
----
Finally, she could run no longer... She eventually has to come to a running stop before doubling over to put her hands on her knees... "Huff huff huff... W-w-where d-did all t-this f-fog c-come f-from..." she says breathlessly to herself in a soft tone.
"You pathetic fool!" Suddenly a voice from behind her had her straightening up and whirling around! "W-who's t-there!" she demands shyly in a breathless tone. "Your so weak, you can't even stop stuttering!" the voice sneers! "W-whoever you are, c-come out!" she demands, though it lacked the power she'd hoped for. "Hah hah hah! You think you can scare me? You couldn't even rescue the woman you patroned for!" It laughs ominously! "B-but-!" she objects before gettimg cut off! "You RAN! You call yourself brave, say your lonely and want company, but you RAN! You left others to die just to save your own skin!" it yells, having taken on a angry vicious tone! "B-but-!" she tries again as tears begin to form in her eyes! "Save it! Your truely pathetic! So shy and weak! Nobody would save you! When others were working hard to earn coins, you stopped at twenty! Twenty! You couldn't even be bothered to keep playing! The death of so many are on your hands!" the voice yells!
By this point, Ellie had her hands covering ears in a vain attempt to silence the mocking! Finally, she couldn't take it any longer, and as the last words echo in her head, she turns and dashes off in a random direction!
Unfortunately, those last words would be further enforced as her foot suddenly catches on something and sends her spralling to the ground! "Eek!" she squeaks before hitting the ground! This causes her knife to go skittering out of her hand and into the fog! Before she could even think to retrieve it, she lifts herself up slightly and without even thinking, she looks back to see what she tripped on! To her horror, it looked like the Manager from the bookstore! He was rotted and dead with eyes that seemed to pierce into her! "Ah!" she yelps in surprise before rolling over and shuffling back! It couldn't be! He couldn't be! The man who'd become like a father to her was... dead? It couldn't be! That was all she kept thinking as she shuffled back away from the corpse!
Finally, her hand hits her knife and she grabs it before shakily flailing it at the body! At some point she'd closed her eyes, so when the corpse didn't spring up to attack her, she opens them to find... There was nothing there... "W-w-what!?" she exclaims with a mixture of confusion and relief! The relief was short live though as she slowly and shakily got to her feet... Was she going mad...?
Suddenly, as she was brushing herself off, she could see it! A hole in the fog! Unfortunately... No matter how hard or far she ran, she couldn't reach it... Soon, she realizes it wasn't real and stops running...
[Infection Rate: 20/100]
Rikku Takanashi
Friendly Guardian
Offline
Jaglion rolled 1 6-sided dice:
3Total: 3 (1-6)
Jaglion
Enigmatic Gambler
Offline
Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2015 1:15 pm
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 ].
It felt as if he had been wandering the fog forever, Poor little boy, doesn't even know which way to go. His skin itched, and he scratched at it roughly. He was just getting so angry with the situation. Why had they even left the university in the first place, they had been doing fine there.
In the corner of his eye, Dylan thought that he saw one of the other university members, but when he turned to look, there was nothing He rubbed his eyes. Maybe he really was losing it. Voices, seeing things?
And to make things worse, he had come back upon the same clearing that he had just been in. The same people were there, still unmoving, still unresponsive. "Oh come on!" He kicked at the ground in frustration. "I don't suppose you'd like to help me now."
Of course not, and Dylan almost threw the couple of casino coins that he still had in his hand at them. He didn't, instead choosing to walk away in a huff. "See if I ever help you."
Yes, that's right. Don't help anyone. You're the only one that matters.
He was back in the fog, the greyness still as thick as ever, and he just kept moving. There had to be more out there, others that had been in the casino, and surely, he'd run into somebody. Right?
What he did run into was a set of old rusty gates, ones that lead to what appeared to be some sort of a hospital. It didn't look like anyone had been here recently, but at least there was no fog.
Maybe some of the others would be here as well.
Quote:
[ Infection Rate ]: 30/100 Your paranoia begins to build up even more. You begin to get angry as well, and your skin begins to itch sporadically. Sometimes, instead of just voices, you swear you see faces of familiar people in the distance. They always fade away when you stare directly at them.
OOC
Character's name: Dylan Sallow Character's faction: University Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: HERE Jersey Number: 31 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER 20 years old. Dylan is 5'9 with a lean runner's build. His skin is a pale beige and covered in freckles. He has short carrot orange hair, and dark blue eyes. He typically wears jeans and plain colored t-shirts. He is currently wearing a jersey with the number 31 on it.
What was that they'd said about everyone being infected? Wait - wait, it didn't matter. All that Wataru had to do was get out of here. It seemed to him that whoever worked in this casino was, well, an a*****e that just wanted to cause panic.
So he escaped...into a thick coat of fog. Wonderful. He hissed as the cold settled in around his skin...but he had to keep walking. What direction had the apartments been in? Where was he supposed to be walking? He just wanted...he wanted a stupid poisonous shower. He wanted to climb back up the thirteen stupid stories to Renita and Lennard and Oscar and ******** Sawyer. He wanted to hole up behind his barricaded windows and watch everyone else figure everything out.
But he was here, and he couldn't see anything more than a foot from his face. Around him there were...people? Maybe? Everyone else was trying to leave, too. Wataru ran faster. He needed to make sure that it wasn't shitty people getting into Clearview...it was his home now, right? He needed to - he needed to.
There was a group of eight people huddled in a circle. "Hey," Wataru snapped. "Mind - getting out of - you know, the casino is right there. We don't need you ******** everyone over by getting in their way."
None of them moved, though their mouths seemed to be moving, something that looked like a slow mumble. Wataru couldn't hear it, though. "What'd you say?" he asked, furrowing his brows. What was going on? There was something - people were moving - he was headed in the right direction, right?
Wataru was ordinarily an extremely good navigator. But in the fog he wasn't even sure he was still heading away from the casino. And his head was spinning again - had the concussion returned, with his retreat? No - no, it couldn't have..
"I'm gonna keep going," he said eventually, determined. They couldn't ******** stop him from his escape. He didn't want to play another ******** game.
So he tore himself away from them, running. Angled himself so he was on the right path again. Was he okay? He was so alone. Where had everyone gone? When he'd just left the casino there'd been a warm press of bodies all around him to stave off the fog. Now he couldn't feel - he couldn't feel anyone near him. It was disorienting. In what direction was he heading? Was that a curb? What street was he on? Where were the street signs? If he could...if he could see one there might be - ********, that was a street lamp, but it was off.
Usually he knew exactly where he was. He didn't even...where was he going? Ahead of him he saw - a street corner?
More people. This time they were standing in a circle, eyes closed. Holding hands. "What are you - does anyone know the way to Clearview apartments?" he asked. "What street are we on?" He could figure out why the lights were off, obviously..."Does anyone have a working radio?"
Wataru's was just shooting bits and pieces of static at him. He couldn't recognize anyone's voice. Where was he going? Why were all of these people just standing here like no one had - heard - no one had heard him. The cold of the fog bore down around him. It was the fog, wasn't it? He needed to get out. But from the state of this clearing it was dangerous.
Again, he ran. His skin was - it was - it was itching, like something wanted to burst out of him. He panted. Did anyone even have bite cream left?
His head was hurting again. He was - oh, he hadn't noticed that curb there. He tripped, steadied himself, got up, kept running. Into a wall.
Ah, no, that wasn't the answer. Where was he going? He groped blindly along the wall. Clearview Apartments...he didn't want to keep talking. Or walking. He was so tired. How long had he been running? The apartments hadn't been this far away, right? When could he fall into a bed and sleep? He hadn't left the casino since - oh, god. Exhaustion was catching up to him.
He stumbled along. Now he just wanted to topple over onto the bodies beneath him. Wait. What bodies? They hadn't all been here before. Why were people sleeping here? The undying would come, and feast, and they'd - they'd - Wataru shook one of them. They weren't waking up. Was this a product of the fog, too? Were they - he turned it over. It was smiling, strangely.
Okay, Wataru could admit it, because he knew sewing. Those were stitches, along the face. He moved his hands down the body, slow. Why was this chest so sunken in? How gaunt was this person? How long had they been - they were dead, right? This was. There weren't any bones. The skin had a soft bounce, more like a balloon than a human with muscles and fat. There wasn't anything in there. It was sewn shut. And Wataru was getting sleepier and sleepier.
He ran for it. Out ahead, there was a hospital. Well, it wasn't Clearview Apartments...but it was a building, right? He could stay there until the fog cleared, or...
Where had everyone gone?
OOC
Character's name: Wataru Sugimoto Character's faction: 3 Apartments Character's journal link:hey Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER A tall, angry-looking Japanese man with shaggy hair that's obviously been bleached red-orange. He's not especially distinctive.
[ 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 ].
Mike was running away as far away as he could from that terrible casino. He was so relieved to be out of that mess. Was it true what they said? He was sure if was and the thought of everyone being infected repeated in his head over and over. He continued to run away he didn't even mind in which direction as long as he was not going to end up in the casino again. After a while he started to notice the fog and it was getting thicker and thicker making it feel hard to breathe. He was starting to get worried. How long has he been mindlessly walking around in this fog? He was so busy running away that he only now noticed how lost he was and that he couldn't see where he was. He also started to get the feeling he was not alone. Someone or something else was present too. He managed to escape something that clawed at him and he continued running searching for a save place somewher outside of this fog.
After running for a while he was getting tired and started to walk a little slower. He also started to trip over things as he couldn't see where he was going which also made him slow down. He wandered around looking for a way out of the fog till he was a group of people. They were standing in a circle and Mike slowly walked over to them. "Hey what are you guys doing here?" He yelled at them but got no answer. He waved to the group. "What is going on? Need any help?" He continued to talk to the group hoping one would reply but still nothing. Mike somehow felt they weren't going to answer him at all no matter what he tried. He didn't want to stay to long in the fog. He made the decision to just continue walking and to ignore the group. They were ignoring him too.
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 10 /100 Character's name: Mike Smithson Character's faction: 4 - The Mall Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: #99 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER He is average in appearance in build, length and posture. He has brown short hair, a white rather pale skin color and blueish/grey eyes. He wears black jeans and a white/light blue long sleeve shirt with buttons.
As the fog began to roll in, Durza started to panic. He had to get back to the apartment, the pets were all alone back at the building. Duchess Dirtypaws and Lord Umbrella of Clearview were still unhappy with each other as he had left them. It had been quite a while since Durza had been able to see the raccoon.
The fog was thick, and... it was whispering to him. Someone was out there. Someone he couldn't even find as hard as he looked. They were all infected... every last one of them. So, maybe they could tough it out instead of making it unscathed.
Every time he was sure he found an exit, he got himself lost, the Whispers jeered at him the first time Are you sure you've got the right direction? He glared around and found a new direction to run in. There seemed to be an exit from the fog that way.
Wait, that wasn't right, as he ran toward it, it didn't seem to be an exit either. He was incredibly peeved about it. There had to be another direction to go. This one led him in a third direction. It was getting really strange, like he was going in circles.
He bumped into a pair of doors, stepping back to see where he was now.
[ Infection Rate ]: 15 /100
OOC
Character's name: Durza Morann Character's faction: Apartments Character's journal link: gaia_kittenstar Character's survival stats:gaia_kittenstar BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER:gaia_kittenstar
[ 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, ADD THIS TO YOUR OOC INFECTION RATE TALLY ].
Mike continued to walk around in the fog with a feeling being watched and followed. He didn't really see anyone following him but the feeling did not want to go away. It was most probably the fog or someone was indeed following him around. He wanted to get out of this place and the fog a quick as possible and he did not want to walk back to the casino. As he couldn't see where he was going this was even possible and that scared Mike.
He heard someone talk now. Someone who sounded very familiar but it also sounded very strange. Did he hear himself talking? He wasn't saying anything now was he? The voice that sounded as his own told him he didn't really help people this much. Mike had wanted to, right? The voice told him. But you have had failed several times. The voice continued mocking at him. Like this time when you were needed and you found out later and wasn't around when needed? The voice told him. This was true but how did the other know? Who was it who was talking to him in his own voice and why did he know these things? Mike was really scared now and wanted to run again. Away from here and the person who seemed to talk to him.
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 15 /100 Character's name: Mike Smithson Character's faction: 4 - The Mall Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: #99 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER He is average in appearance in build, length and posture. He has brown short hair, a white rather pale skin color and blueish/grey eyes. He wears black jeans and a white/light blue long sleeve shirt with buttons.
[ 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 ].
Mike was now running through the fog again tripping over things he could see escaping thing he couldn't see also. Or did he just think he did so as he still couln't see a thing and breathing was getting harder in this fog. He had the feeling again of being followed again but didn't dare to look back and just started running again. He started to hear something breathing and it sounded like something big not a human probably. He was terrified now and was quite sure that he indeed was being followed. He was shaking with fear now and looked back to see what was following him only to see alot of eyes staring back. Some of them started to blink and it looked like whatever it was it wasn't alone. As he continued to run away he kept hearing sounds of something following him and he turned around again. He wanted to know how close they were only to see the eyes being gone now.
He continued to run away while still hearing something following him and still feeling as being watched. He saw a clearing in the fog now and he ran towards it. He was now finally out of this fog ... or not?
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 20 /100 Character's name: Mike Smithson Character's faction: 4 - The Mall Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: #99 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER He is average in appearance in build, length and posture. He has brown short hair, a white rather pale skin color and blueish/grey eyes. He wears black jeans and a white/light blue long sleeve shirt with buttons.
When the lights went down and everyone started booking it for the exits, Mr. Nordskov knew the rest of his acquaintances from the apartments would be taking advantage of the disruption as well. Two weeks ago he was sure the group was riddled with lazy layabouts, but somehow he had grown fond of those familiar faces. Or at least as fond as one could be when one's default expression was a scowl.
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 ].
He ran on, trusting the rest to find safety, expecting to meet up with at least some of them on the other side. Maybe in the morning, or when the fog cleared he could find them. With a jolt he realized the fog had swallowed all the others right up, there were no misty swirls or muffled sounds where others should have been running, just a pale emptiness stretching onwards around him. Perhaps the old man was the one who had been swallowed.
Ahead he spotted a break in the mist and kept going. Maybe once he was out he could find a vantage point, find his people. But as he ran, he seemed to get no closer to that clear area. He thought he heard some whispers off in the distance, but turning to look, there was only foggy stillness in all directions. Trying to pick out landmarks was impossible, alleys and streets looked the same under that blanket of obscuring whiteness. All the while he couldn't shake the feeling there was something else out there in the mists, maybe watching him... maybe following him.
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 ].
The gap in the fog slowly disappeared, and John was left in hopeless, misty solitude. His limbs started feeling heavy, and he debated with himself momentarily before slowing to a walk. Maybe it was his age catching up to him, or perhaps the exhaustion of the day, or lingering remnants of the drug from the casino no longer held at bay by anger. A few paces more, and he let his hands drop to his thighs, leaning forward to grab a breather-
And hollered in surprise as he realized he was surrounded by bodies. Everywhere, stretching off into the fog, and he stumbled back, tripping and nudging one of the bodies onto it's side to reveal something even more horrific than the initial shock. He didn't question what happened, didn't want to ask even in his mind whether this was an atrocity of human hands or something far worse. He just ran.
Quote:
[ 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 ].
Somehow he had left that grotesque scene of bodies behind him, and once again wandered lost in the fog. His sense of direction was gone. Vanished somewhere, scattered by the minute particles of mist lingering in the air. The alleyways could have been the same ones he walked mere minutes ago and he would have not noticed the difference. And no matter how much he stared into the mist, no matter how hard he listened, it was like not another single soul existed.
John once again revisited his theory of having been the one swallowed. Maybe he had been shot in the head during his escape, and this terrifying purgatory was not a place that could be escaped from...
He stumbled suddenly, glancing down to see what curb he had tripped over, only to be met with the hollow-cheeked, sunken-eyed stare of a cadaver. Not just any cadaver though. Even with it's soft, sliding flesh and gaping jaw Mr. Nordskov saw in it the face of a kid he knew back in the 70s. They had been the best of friends, lost touch... The old man staggered backwards, his mind reeling with questions, how had he ended up there in that same city, dead, how had he ended up dead, why now when they hadn't talked in so many years-
And then he glanced back, and the body was gone.
The old man pressed on in a daze, finally stumbling across something different. Large old gates. A hospital. It didn't look like there would be any doctors home, he thought dryly... He needed some rest, some sleep, but his skin itched and those whispers in the fog were only more insistent.
[ Infection Rate ]: 25 /100
OOC
Character's name: Johnathan Nordskov Character's faction: Apartments Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: Stats BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Mr. Nordskov is always gruff and straight to the point, in a constant state of disgruntled disapproval. Despite this solitary attitude he has little desire to see anyone hurt. Seriously at least. Physically, the 60 year old is tall, well muscled with arms like tree trunks, sporting a bristly woodsman beard and piercing blue eyes glaring out from under bushy eyebrows.
