Zombie Apocalypse! [Semi-Lit/Always Open&Accepting!]

[Raynie_Taco]

[Excitement just one person more!! ]

[Raynie_Taco]

[Just want to say... Le Bumpith pwease ]

[iSaNeKo]

[Yep! Uno mas! lol]

[iSaNeKo]

[Bump.]

[Raynie_Taco]

[I must concur that bump with my own bump]

[takane]

Name: Blathnaid Aoife Cregan
Age: 21
Occupation (before apocalypse): Waitress
History: She had a happy past, she always got good grades and she didn't get involved with any gangs, violence or anything that would affect her good reputation.
Personality: She is very quiet and mature. Seeing as she doesn't talk very much, not many people know that she is a massive fan of Zombie and Horror films. She is ruthless when exterminating the undead, but when someone is injured she panics.
Any Hope For Humankind?: She thinks there is someplace safe out there, but she has strong doubts that she would make it.


Hair Color: Dark brown, almost black
Eye Color: Grey-blue
Body Shape: She is small, and her bones are light, but running around and carrying all the plates of food has made her reasonably sturdy. She also played baseball, which helped her muscles become strong.
Clothes: A white top, green cargo pants and a black baseball cap, along with a dark leather side bag.
Weapon You Carry (max of 3): A baseball bat
Other: She is Irish

{{Is this okay?}}

[iSaNeKo]

[Yep, yep. Accepted. Let the RPing begin! lol]

[takane]

{{Thanks :3}}

[iSaNeKo]

The church building sat dormant cross the street. Everything had been still for a good while now, since her last run in. Although she had never really considered herself a very religious person, Sam contemplated for the longest time entering the sanctuary. Maybe it would be safe. Maybe there was hope for a relief bunker in there; somewhere. She scouted the streets, again, quietly stepping out into the light of the summer sun. She gripped the handle of her bat tighter, adjusting her hands into a comfortable swinging position; just in case. Sam looked at the steeple, which sat upon the roof, and took a breath. What am I doing? she wondered as she inched closer to the front steps. This is a bad idea. This is a very, very bad idea.

Her light footsteps on the blacktop sounded practically nonexistent. Her heart pounded inside of her chest, and it almost distracted her from the task at hand. When Sam reached the concrete sidewalk, she heard growling coming from a distant alleyway. She disregarded her fear of the church quickly, and long enough to jolt up the stairs and throw open the doors. It was heavy, and it took half of her to push open just one of the huge wooden things; she squeezed through the gap, not wanting to cause too much of a ruckus. Sam breathed out hard as she pushed the door closed, behind her. She turned around to face a desolate ambo. The place was huge, not the biggest she had ever seen, but quite a nice size. Not knowing whether she was truly alone or among company, Sam stealthily slinked to the side of the church walls and began her way toward the front.



He swung his axe at another one of the creatures. Jason analyzed his situation: three more left, one approximately seven feet from him, charging, the other two, about fourteen feet back. I can handle this. The sweat beaded from his forehead and down his neck. Jason had been being followed practically all day. His muscles were worn and his stomach was weak; he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. He had to push through. Slicing, easily, through the first zombie, Jason readied himself for the next couple. Breathing heavily now, he planted himself in the middle of the alleyway, kicking up one foot as the duo rapidly approached him. His right foot made powerful contact to one monster’s chest, sending him flying backward onto the ground. Jason didn’t have much time before the creature was to get back up; he had to work fast.

Digging his axe into the neck of the upright zombie and jerking it back out, Jason ended up losing his balance and stumbling a bit. The other zombie was already stumbling to his feet; Jason knew he needed to put some distance between himself and the individual. He began to back up, trotting backward toward the opening of the alley. The heal of his boot caught the body of the zombie he previously decapitated, and Jason tumbled onto the ground. The oncoming zombie took advantage of this, leaping on top of him and thrashing around. Jason kept the distance between them, using what strength he had left and the long handle of his weapon. He threw the thing off of him, and jumped to his feet. The zombie followed suit, attacking him again, and growling loudly. Jason threw the body into the side of a dumpster and caught his breath. He gritted his teeth and worked up what adrenaline he had left, striking the zombie in the collar bone. “Ugh!” he yelled when he realized his aim was off all of a sudden. He yanked the blade out of its body, as it thrashed at him again. Jason delivered a final blow to his opponent’s skull, finishing him off. He breathed again, turned, and hardly on alert walked out of the alley. There was a decent-sized church down and across the street a little ways; Jason figured it had potential to be a decent place to recover.



The monsters banged on the wood and walls around the room. McKayla was just lucky enough to make it to her bedroom and lock the door behind her, without being mauled by the creatures. She looked around, trying to find something to defend herself with; her ice skates, hanging on the wall across the room, were the only things she could imagine to use. She ran over to them, grabbed them, and threw open the window beside her. McKayla climbed outside and onto the roof of her house. She steadied herself, and continued to climb up, toward her favorite spot. The small nook was broad and flat, but one had to be talented to reach it; luckily, she was. Just as she exited the window, the zombies busted through her door. Her tear-filled eyes widened and she pushed herself harder. She knew not to be too hasty in getting to the secret spot, for she could fall to her death, but she did have to hurry herself up. Some zombies tried to follow her out of the window, but all failed once they reached the steepest part of the shingled base; the rest scurried about, searching the room for the pile of flesh.

McKayla hid out there for a few hours, until the horde got discouraged enough not to continue to follow her (or just forgot about her). She stayed hidden for an hour or two after the moaning and growling had ceased, just to be sure they were all gone. Her stomach ached and she felt as if she needed to vomit, from crying so much; but that was not an option because she had to stay strong. The girl quietly slid down the other side of her roof, skates tied by their strings draped over her shoulders, now. McKayla climbed down the ivy growing on the lattice next to her back porch. She cautiously and silently hopped onto the grass below, hoping there was no one around. She slid open the glass back door as quietly as she possibly could, and stepped inside. Walking through the kitchen, she made no noise, but once she got to the living room, McKayla silently gasped and her eyes began to water again. Her nose stung at the thought of her family, but she had to be strong. Her father’s shotgun and his 9mm pistol laid on the floor beside multitudes of piles and spatters of blood and carnage; shell casings were scattered about, but her family was gone. They had to have been zombies now. Stupid to have thought we would be safe here she angrily thought to herself. McKayla grabbed the guns and took a deep breath, wiping blood off of the weapons. She went to her father’s gun cabinet, reloaded the things, and grabbed the rest of the ammo that was left. Upon returning to her room, McKayla hurriedly grabbed a backpack, a change of clothes, and the portrait of her family she kept on her nightstand. Before leaving the house, she grabbed her mother’s car keys and took one more glance back at the living room.

[Raynie_Taco]

[Lets do it!!!!! *game face8]

The flames engulfed his house, burning the memories, burning the love he once shared there with his family. He began to run towards it, shouting Erin’s name and praying she wasn’t already consumed by the fiery death. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a glimpse of his parents, or rather of what his parents became. They were staggering toward him, dazed look in their eyes and third degree burns along their face and arms. “Mom? Dad?” his voice trembled in a hush whisper; however these were no longer his parents, and this was no longer his home. His parents staggered forward, inching further, when Ethan finally saw his baseball bat…
Ethan jolted awake, cold sweat covering his body and his breathing labored. He searched in a panic for his weapon: his child-sized bat and the only thing he had left: Erin. His younger sister slept quietly next to him, clutching at his pants and whimper in her sleep. He stroked her hair, murmuring soothing words, and while on the inside condemning himself for falling asleep. They needed to head out soon; they had to find someone before… Ethan sat back, unconsciously continuing to stroke his sister’s hair. He had to come up with a plan and fast.

Erin was having a nightmare and she knew it. She was surrounded by flames; she watched her family picture that was hanging on the wall turn to smoke. She was crying, it was so hard to breath, and she doesn’t know where her mommy was. “Mommy,” she wailed, her voice cracking. She fell into another coughing fit as she stumbled her way around her house. When the smoked thinned enough to see, it horrified her to see her big brother swinging at her parents. “Ethan no!” she screamed, racing forward to grab his arm. As she touched her brother’s shirt sleeve, her mother took ahold of her, gnashing her teeth towards her neck.
“Erin, Erin wake up!” she heard Ethan’s harsh whispers. She rolled over, disoriented for a moment and startled at the pain for her sore muscles. Once she sat upright, Ethan got close to whisper to her again. “Erin, we need to find people or a safe haven. We can’t stay here much longer; I heard groans in the distance. We need to go go go.” He pulled her to her feet and began to brush off the dirt from her clothes. Erin still wasn’t fully awake and used that time to wipe the sleep from her eyes. She heard an odd noise coming from close by, and it wasn’t until Ethan was holding her that she realized she was sobbing. As he tried to soothe her by stroking her hair like she liked him too, she quietly sobbed, “I’m so scared.”

Sean picked up his chainsaw, now covered in zombie mush, and headed out. No time to celebrate his kill, though his online friends would never believe how cool he looked. No time for that now, he concluded as he smiled. He heard the signs of a zombie hoard approaching, probably from all the noise he made with his chainsaw. No matter, he has done this billions of time in his first person shooters. Should be a synch he thought as he climbed a high tree. None of the zombies in his games were smart enough or strong enough to climb, so if he just lays low he should be fine. Just fine…