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 Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2015 3:48 am
 [ DAY ZERO JOURNAL LOG ENTRY ] Gilda Farrel Character ID number: 38 Link to your character's survival stats (minis) profile: Gilda Farrell ViewFaction: Prison Rank: ?
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2015 4:10 am
[spoiler][quote="OOC"]
[b][size=9][color=#9d0000]▐▐ CHARACTER'S NAME>>[/color][/size][/b] [size=11]Gilda Farrel[/size]
[b][size=9][color=#9d0000]▐▐ CHARACTER'S FACTION>>[/color][/size][/b] [size=11]Prison[/size]
[b][size=9][color=#9d0000]▐▐ CHARACTER'S JOURNAL>>[/color][/size][/b] [size=11][url=http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=24794691][x][/url][/size]
[b][size=9][color=#9d0000]▐▐ CHARACTER'S STATS>>[/color][/size][/b] [size=11][url=http://www.thesporkedken.com/adopt/dayzerouser.php?act=profile&user=38][x][/url][/size]
[b][size=9][color=#9d0000]▐▐ CHARACTER'S DESCRIPTION>>[/color][/size][/b] [size=11] Tall and blonde with sleek curves and a very severe expression and disposition. Dressed impeccably despite the situation and apparently still in a rather businesslike mode.[/size]
[/quote]
[quote="HERE YOU SHOULD QUOTE ANYONE YOU ARE TALKING TO"][/quote]
[quote="QUOTE MORE PEOPLE IF YOU ARE TALKING OT THEM"][/quote]
[/spoiler]
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2015 10:55 am
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2015 11:26 am
Journal - 21 September 2015
I do not know if anyone will ever find this journal, I do not hold out a great deal of hope that the world beyond this city has fared any better than we have. I fear that we are in the grim end times of our world and that through some act of hubris, either wilful or accidental, we have sealed our own doom. The stage we are in right now is little more than the death throes of a population and perhaps the entire species. Whatever this affliction is, it appears to have no cure or means of reverting the corpse animation. There is something almost lovecraftian in the mobile corpses that litter the areas of the city that have been consumed, putting me in mind of the reanimator stories where the dead were brought back from the brink too late, only to turn into feral and terrible creatures.
It doesn't make sense, none of it makes sense, death is the cessation of the biological functions of a body, if this delicate and fragile machine lost any major cog then it of course would cease. It makes no sense for them to be out there simply walking around again, functioning in spite of catastrophic failures of the very mechanisms of life. I think perhaps that is the thing that scares me the most about them, they exist in the face of everything I have ever learned and everything I have ever known. They do not care for the stringent laws of biology or chemistry, they care even less for the laws of rationality. Reality rails against them and yet they interminably persist.
I have found myself afraid of what this means, about how truly unstable my life - formerly of iron certainty - had become.
I also worry, if I am honest here that I am falling for someone. It would lose me my qualification in a world where those things held meaning any longer, but here I don't think it matters. Perhaps I am allowed this, perhaps for once I am allowed to indulge, there isn't much time left.
He is broken but he is broken and devoted and there is something soft beneath the skulking pessimism, something that I find myself rather fond of. Perhaps in a world where things were still held together I could see myself abandoning my obligations and pursuing a life with him, or perhaps not abandoning them at all and pursuing him regardless, it is something I am sure we could conceal if pushed, I could keep him at home like a pet.
As it is I do not know what sort of future there is. I do not reckon our chances against the bandits or the other militias which have control of the outside zones, nor do I reckon my own chances against starvation and hunger, I never was very cutthroat.
I long for a normal life, a life that I did not take advantage of while I had the chance to. Perhaps I will take advantage of the things I have at the moment, perhaps I will place my trust in that mad fervent loyalty and let myself fall in love, perhaps I will permit my own desire to match it in pitch, perhaps that would be interesting.
When it comes down to it, why the hell not?
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Posted: Tue Sep 29, 2015 4:05 am
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