Theory and Practice | Zombie Apocalypse Roleplay | Open

[lucky strikes]

THE IMPOSSIBLE IS POSSIBLE.

Your history teachers sometimes went on about how communism and anarchy were better used in theory than in practice. At that time, those words had no meaning to you. Those types of governments weren't prominent and you knew they never would be. You also didn't think of the dead rising as a real threat. It was something you and your friends joked about, and something widely covered by the media just for fun. Science assured you that it was impossible for corpses to come alive and seek the flesh of unfortunates. Well, you've now realized that your teachers' words had truth in them and that the scientists were wrong. But only after months of senseless bloodshed that has left you alone in a destroyed world surrounded by ungodly creatures.
It started out with a report of a parasite created in a laboratory that could take over an organism's mind. You and your peer group thought it was cool. Soon, however, things began to take a more horrific turn. Humans willingly accepted to be turned into the parasite's slaves. These subjects died several hours after the parasite was introduced to them. Then they arose. On the news, there was a story of a scientist being brutally murdered by one of the subjects. When the scientist turned into a flesh-hungry monster, the government intervened and shut everything down. No one knew that a bitter man had a specimen of the parasite.
He had learned that the parasite could spread an odd kind of infection through physical contact or otherwise contaminating a source. Whoever was afflicted died and a parasite was born. The person rose again as what could only be described as a zombie. So, the scientist infected himself and kissed his wife. That was the start of the spread. Within two nights, the entire neighborhood was brought down. And things only got worse from there. Even the military could not end the zombies. And that's where you come in. A lone survivor whose life was torn apart like a zombie's victim. Now you live by your weapons and your wits, and your goals are to survive and band up with whatever people you can find, if there still are people to be found. Now you know that not only communism is better in theory than in practice, but zombie apocalypses as well.
You are one out of fourteen individuals who were lucky enough to survive the carnage, not that you know it yet. It's your job to find them or join the undead's ranks while trying.

All pictures belong to their rightful owners.

[lucky strikes]

WHAT DO YOU FOLLOW?

• Follow all of Tess' rules.
• Use proper grammar and spelling. Though some typos are understandable, spellcheck your post before you submit it if you can.
• You can edit the form in any way you want, or use your own. Just make sure you have the basics.
• The form has to contain proper information, meaning no 'Will be RPed'.
• No godmodding, power playing, mini-modding, or anything of the sort.
• Fade to black for anything above kissing for romance and don't go over the top with violence. (No matter how much fun both of those things can be.)
• Keep your language clean. Damn and hell are fine, but censor anything else.
• Feel free to make your character to make them unique, but don't overpower them or make them into Mary or Gary Sues.
• As this is a semi-lit role-play, your shortest post has to be at least one paragraph. Essentially five or six lines.
• If you're going to be inactive or if you're quitting, PM me so I can keep things running smoothly.
• Check back here occasionally because I might add more rules.

[lucky strikes]

WHAT'S GOING ON?

Location and Date:
Location:
A fallen city. Buildings here and there and several stores. The zombies are mostly concentrated near these stores, as many people met their fates trying to get supplies. Since most died attempting to get food and other such things, there are still some places stocked with them.

Weather:
It's bitterly cold and ice is everywhere. If you don't warm yourself in some way, you'll likely freeze to death.

Zombie Activity:
The zombies are highly active, but seem to retreat into dark places when it's daytime.

[lucky strikes]

WHO'S ALIVE?

Fourteen people managed to make it out of the beginnings of the apocalypse without being turned, and here they are.

Ladies:
• Daria Starr/Sixteen/Ex-Dee
•
•
•
•
•
•

Gents:
• Finn Riley Baines/Fourteen/lucky strikes
• Xelar Reon/Nineteen/Xelar~Reon
•
•
•
•
•

* If your character doesn't fit the gender binary, PM me and I'll adjust the list.

Form:

Code: Select all

Username:
Character's Name:
Gender:
Age: [13+]
Sexual Preference:
Current Weaponset:
Appearance:
Personality:
History: (Optional)
Other:

Not fancy, I know, but you can edit it however you like or just use your own.

[lucky strikes]

EVEN IN RUIN, THERE'S SOMETHING GOOD TO BE FOUND.

Recaps:
11/23/2013: RP was opened.

Relationships:
None yet.

[lucky strikes]

Finn Riley Baines

Username:
lucky strikes

Gender:
Male [FtM]

Age:
Fourteen

Sexual Orientation:
Pansexual

Current Weaponset:
He has his hands taped with spiked brass knuckles on top, so he usually fights with to hand-to-hand. He also has a hunting knife that he hasn't totally mastered use of yet.

Appearance:
Finn is a small kid, standing around five three or four. He was skinny before the apocalypse, and is even more so now that he hasn't had consistent meals in who knows how long. However, he's managed to pick up the muscle definition he lost when he hurt his legs and stopped consistently running because, well, zombies will make you run like anything. He has light skin that's covered in a few odd freckles here and there, and if you compared him to his form before the zombies shambled in, he'd still be close to the embarrassing, near toilet-paper white his friends always teased him about. There are small, circular scars on his arms and legs, as well as several scars on his wrists and a large, curved one below the joint of his right thumb. He has a somewhat squarish jaw, and you can see something of cheekbones. Although he's usually starving, his stupid baby fat still betrays him. His hair is dark brown, shaved on the sides and somewhat longer on the top. Most of the time, he slicks it back as best he can. There's a grey patch just below his left ear. Riley's eyes can look green or brown, he's noticed, depending on the lighting, but his papers say they're hazel. They're set below dark, thick eyebrows that allow him to more easily give the 'are you dang kidding me' look, as seen above. The only things that contrast from his aforementioned look are thick, annoyingly girlish eyelashes that he and his brothers shared. He wears a red flannel shirt above a bloodstained undershirt, and beneath that is a white chest binder that you'll learn the origins of later. Finn hasn't had much trouble with the zombies getting friendly with his legs, so he has thus far kept wearing a pair of khaki shorts. (And if you look closely, which you wouldn't, since that's weird, you'd see that he's got grey plaid boxers. Pass it on.) He has a set of somehow pristine white DC shoes on, though they show some signs of wear despite their out-of-place cleanliness. Riley has a black backpack on him always that contains provisions, a sketchbook and notebook, and a few other things like an iPod Shuffle he wants to charge someday.

Personality:
Finn suffers from depression and social anxiety, though he feels like he's overcome the latter because all he thinks about is being around people. He doesn't give himself credit for a lot of things and has a sense of self-worth that's nearly nonexistent. He's highly intelligent, but often refrains from speaking up because he thinks whatever input he has has little value. He puts others' needs above his own because, again, he thinks he's close to worthless, and ends up getting overwhelmed because he doesn't assess his problems.
When he gets mad, Finn gets ruthlessly violent or disturbingly calm and either way, he loses what little sympathy and care he has for most anything. And if he's exhibiting both, may god have mercy on your soul. Finn's hot tempered and likes to have things his way, which doesn't tend to work out because of his tendency to keep his mouth shut. He is eloquent when he speaks and writes, aside from his horribly foul vocabulary, that is. A mule might not be as stubborn as he is. If he decides on something, it tends to be set in stone. Finn won't show most of his emotions unless he's at the breaking point, and even then, he hesitates. If he's left alone after talking to someone who seems disappointed, he tends to think that he's displeased them even if he's assured they're not.
Finn has an arsenal of inappropriate and/or offensive jokes because he likes to make people laugh. He'll sing horrible renditions of Bohemian Rhapsody, Carry On Wayward Son, and a lot of other weird music to amuse others, too, if others urge him. He's got a love-hate relationship with the arts. He's got the hots for the early 1900s, psychology, and COD: Nazi zombies and will gladly have a six-hour discussion about them with a break for ice cream should someone present a similar interest. Finn has a fluctuating maturity level that ranges from telling jokes about someone's mother to seriousness exhibited by people far beyond his age. His general sense of humor is morbid.
If you make friends with him, Finn will get weirder than he was before. He'll say whatever's on his mind and ramble about random things when his mind wanders. He cherishes those he cares for and can be brutal toward those he doesn't if they cross him or his loved ones. He's got an awkward way of showing affection, which is essentially calling his loved ones losers that he couldn't live without and otherwise saying nothing. Sometimes, he can be sweet, but he really, really hates that part of himself and attempts to keep it hidden. He talks with a suppressed Southern accent topped with 1920s-era slang and odd addresses like dog, son, and Brosef Stalin.
Finn perceives justice as 'an eye for an eye' sort of thing. As well as that, he's persuasive and can weasel his way out of things with a few simple words. And, if he gets in trouble, he can cover his tracks in whatever way possible. He loves to fight, but has to have his opponent strike first so he can call it self-defense.

History:
He was born when his parents were in college, the second of four children. Finn was inseparable from his older half-brother from the start. He had a pretty decent life until debt swallowed up his family; the pay his dad got from his organic chemistry internship just wasn't enough. After that, it seemed like they switched from apartment to apartment each month. His parents became more verbally abusive at this point. Finn always felt like there was something wrong with him because of that. His family friend, Riley, died of a brain aneurism after months of being on life support when Finn was eight. Finn was lost and at the funeral he cried before promising to never do it again. And that's a promise he broke.
At some point, his family ended up looking at homeless shelters and they didn't know where their next meal was coming from. That is, until finally his dad picked up a job in the Navy. Finn assumed things were going to get better. He was about nine at this time and while he was lost, trying to find something to latch onto, he'd become devoted to Neo Nazism. His family moved down South. It wasn't too long until Finn would be lying awake at night and listening to his parents fight. He was beginning to become distrustful of his father, disliking his company for reasons unknown and being more wary around him. His dad had to go to officer training camp and Finn was left with an unstable mom and his three brothers. She had Finn sleep in her bed in place of his dad. During this time, his hair began to fall out in clumps. A patch of dark brown hair just below his left ear turned grey. Finn and his family moved on a Naval Weapons Station when his father returned. He'd finished the last half of fourth grade year, and he enrolled into a school on base. Every day in fifth grade, he wore a black, baggy jacket because he didn't like what was happening to his body. His parents divorced in the middle of 2011. Finn attempted suicide at the end of sixth grade year with a bread knife, and there he earned himself a thick vertical scar in the middle center of his forearm. He cut his hair even shorter at the end of that year, just a few sparing inches left. Seventh grade seemed to be even worse. He'd been a Neo Nazi for nearly three years when he met a half-black boy, Ronald, in December 2012. They became fast friends and when Finn realized he liked the guy, he gave up Neo Nazism for his New Year's resolution after weeks of torment. Along with that, he'd met a girl, Charlotte, with cute freckles and a smile to die for, and he was head over heels before he could do a thing.
He'd heard of what being trans* was before and never thought he could do it. He learned he could in November 2012. Finn realized why he'd felt like his body was messed up for so many years. Just after he met Ronald, he came out to his family as transgender. His father and brothers weren't accepting and Finn felt trapped from all the changes in his life. He started to self-harm without even thinking about it, and for it, he felt weak. At the end of seventh grade year, Finn snuck out of the house and shaved all of his hair off, ending up with being grounded over the summer as a result. On July fourth, he asked Charlotte out and he didn't get the sting of rejection. It was enough to get him through the rest of the summer. Everyone in his family but his father became more accepting of his identity, and they took to calling him Charlie, his preferred name at the time. He picked his current name from a character in the Nazi zombies franchise on a Black Ops 2 map: Finn O'Leary. And, after some thought, he chose his middle name: Riley, after his deceased friend. Eighth grade would be his last year where he was stationed and he promised a friend that they'd both make the best of it. Charlotte was going to a different school and they hardly saw each other. He didn't know why, but he felt depressed. Dysphoria was making itself more evident and soon enough he was harming himself again. His father found out and did nothing but yell at him. There was nothing Finn resented more than the man he had to live with. After all, the guy was trans*phobic and saw things only through his narrow, black-and-white view. His mother was in Vegas with her boyfriend, so he had nowhere to go. He took a handful of pain pills before he went to bed one night, but woke up in the morning anyway, devastated. Finn didn't know how much worse things would be getting sooner than he ever could've thought.
One of his friends told him about the parasite that had been found by the scientist in homeroom, and he dismissed it as 'pretty cool' and went on with his life. It turned out the scientist who escaped with a specimen lived in his girlfriend's neighborhood, and that's where Finn was the weekend when it all started. It was November 2013. Little did they know, Charlotte's parents had been out that night and on their way back into the house, they were attacked and bitten. They died almost immediately and reanimated almost as fast. Charlotte answered her bedroom door late at night while Finn was half-asleep. He was shocked into wakefulness by horror as her turned parents bit the fingers off of her right hand. Charlotte's screams were unearthly, and Finn pulled her away from the zombies before they could do anymore damage. They were trapped in the room, Charlotte was going to turn, and it seemed hopeless. Finn grabbed the bowl Charlotte kept her fish in and smashed it over the head of what used to be her father. He cut his hand on a shard of glass he used to stab her undead mom through the eye. Knowing they wouldn't be down for long, he quickly wrapped her hand with her towel and went to her parent's room, where Charlotte said her dad kept a pistol. They both knew there wasn't a lot of time left for her. She begged him to kill her, but Finn wanted her to infect him so they could turn together. Realizing his selfishness, however, he shakily gripped the gun in one of his hands and pressed it against her temple. He kissed her for the first time, hugged her tight, and pulled the trigger. The unexpected kick made him jump back, and he somehow kept himself from crying. He left her house as quickly as he could. If he stayed, it was more likely than not that he would've used a bullet on himself.
Finn saw zombies everywhere, and without seeing any reason to waste what ammunition he had, he ran until he collapsed on his knees at the Navy base's commissary. There the military had ordered people to stay until evacs could get to the location and get them out of there. As much as he wanted to go, he needed to see if his family was okay. He slumped against a wall for half an hour in some form of fitful rest and busted out before the military police could stop him. He ran the last half-mile to his street, his body nearly giving out. It was not yet in ruins as Charlotte's had been when he left, but there were zombies here and there. Finn ran inside, seeing his dad's car in the driveway. With a feeling of dread, he realized his older brother had been at a party for the 50th Anniversary of Doctor Who with his friends and by now, he was undoubtedly zombie chow. There was a noise in the house and he turned to see his father, skin sallow, but still human. He asked his dad where his younger brothers where. Rather than answering, the man said he'd been bitten. Finn demanded to know where they were, his heart beginning to race, thinking of all the terrible things that could've happened. His father replied that they were upstairs, locked in their room, and after that, he asked for his son to end his life. Finn grinned cruelly and shot him when the man reached out to hug him, but he didn't die. His last words were "I'm sorry, Finn." It was the first time his father had called him that, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Stay alive." Then he took the gun from Finn's hands and shot himself.
Finn ran upstairs, only to find his brother's smothered corpses facedown on their pillows. And, from the rage, bitterness, and sorrow that crushed down on him, he broke and cried. He rolled their corpses into bed sheets and set them by the doors, hoping the smell of death would ward zombies away. He slept in his bed for the last time that night, and for some reason, it was a dreamless rest. The next morning, he packed whatever provisions he thought he'd need in his backpack and left. He planned to travel by day and sleep in trees by night until he found a safe place, and that plan was ended when a truck pulled up. Inside was a worried-looking man in a Marine's uniform who urged him to get in. As Finn complied, his phone rang. The text was from his older brother, and it read "Finn don't worry about me if ur still alive just keep going ok we're going to find each other again i promise". The man started driving, casting a worried glance at his passenger, and Finn curled into himself, replying with "okay." Then his phone died, and he was sure his world had fallen apart.
The pair traveled together for six months, using their wits combined, the older man's strength, and the younger's cunning, and Finn grew to respect and find friendship in him, the man whose sewn-on tag read 'Dempsey' but who never introduced himself by his first name. Finn was surprised that he'd lived so long. Although he wanted to join his loved ones in the ground, he kept fighting. If murdered brothers could see him, he was sure they'd be proud. Dempsey found out Finn was trans* one night. Since the older man didn't make a pass at him, just treated him as he normally did, the youth didn't suspect a thing. Finn woke up on his fourteenth birthday outside of a shop he didn't recognize. The Marine came bursting out of the glass as Finn was about to leave the car, seeing zombies everywhere that somehow hadn't noticed him yet. Dempsey jumped in the car and tossed something into Finn's lap before he pushed down hard on the gas. Finn laughed nervously and opened it, only to be shocked when he saw a genuine chest binder folded up neatly within. He hugged him when they stopped the car to rest that night. As they drove the next morning, Dempsey urged Finn to tape his hands like a boxer in case he had to use hand-to-hand when he came across zombies, revealing a roll of black masking tape as he spoke.
The Marine died when they stopped at a gas station to get food the next day. Finn went inside, wondering what was talking Dempsey so long, to find his friend's body along with a dead young man's. The kid sported spiked brass knuckles with a hunting knife, the items glinting in the faint life. Finn recognized him to be a guy from his school: a kid named Sean who always kept his white pair of shoes sparkling clean. In exchange for the weapons, Finn promised to keep his own shoes spotless. When he slipped out of the door, there was a cluster of zombies gathered around the car, enticed by the idling engine. Finn started running while he had a chance, glad that he had brought his backpack along. Eventually, he stumbled upon a destroyed city, shells of what used to be buildings reaching up toward the sky like gnarled fingers. Too tired to go on, he locked himself in an apartment near to the edge of the place, only to find a decaying woman holding an even more rotting dog in her arms. Finn did the same thing he'd done with his family, but this time, he put them in the bathtub and let the bodies burn. He spent the night and left as soon as possible.
Since then, he's survived by going into whatever establishments he can find, getting better at using the weapons he took. He swears that he'll find his older brother- alive or dead- before he lets out his last breath.

Other:
Riley likes to say he's learned German, but he really procrastinated on it even though his mom's boyfriend torrented Rosetta Stone lessons for him for his eleventh birthday. He can count to twenty, say a multitude of obscene things, hold a conversation for about a minute, and sing along to some Rammstein songs he learned the lyrics to.

[lucky strikes]

Open.

[altiora]

{Can I reserve a lady, please? I'll try and do my form today, but I might post tomorrow, thank you!}

[lucky strikes]

[Of course. I'll get to that right away.]

[altiora]

Username: Ex-Dee

Daria Starr
Character's Name: Daria Alexandra-Loyd Starr
Nicknames: Dare (From her first name), Starry (From her surname)
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Sexual Preference: Male
Current Weapon set: She prefers daggers, as she has a slim build and quick feet, and can walk silently; It is easy to head behind a lone zombie or two, and kill them before they know she is there. However, in more dangerous situations, she is very skilled in rifles, due to being trained as a air cadet.
Skills: Quick kills, rifles, Flying in gliders (both motor and non-motor- due to cadets), medical skills, very small skills in driving
Rank: Healer
Personality: Ambitious, Slightly arrogant- usually to hide sensitivity, very emphatic, determined
History: While having a relatively normal life, Daria was very ambitious, and being a only child, her parents spoiled her. She wasn't naturally athletic - she had a rubbish metabolism - but she kicked herself into shape, only eating certain foods. She aimed to climb mt. Everest when she was older; she didn't know when, but she kept herself in shape. Her parents where high class and rich, and while they could be said to be picky, they cared about their daughter and family immensely, and they all lived in a large, roomy house with a hearth in each room. Other then walking Everest, Daria had an interest for all things she deemed important, since a very young age; Flying, Shooting and Healing. She didn't care much for shooting, but whenever the opportunity came to learn it more, she took it. When Picture does not belong to me

she was older, she claimed she wanted to be either a pilot or a doctor,

but when the apocalypse came, she understood the need for healers, and read all her books on medicine all over again. Luckily, she wasn't inexperienced with blood and doctor matters. Her uncle was a surgeon, and while previously when he had visited, she had listened to his facts, as soon as she could she visited him, and with some begging, he started to teach her as much as he could; luckily, she already knew allot from her books, and from cadet health and safety courses. However, one time after, she found her uncle to be dead, but obviously thoroughly infected, though he hadn't woke up yet. So she grabbed the largest rucksack she could find and shoved lots of water bottles, some food, the best medical book she could get and, of course, lots of medical products, before legging it out of there, slightly crying.
Parents: Alexandra Mary Starr (Maiden name- Bridge), Loyd Starr
Other: She loves dresses, and she nearly always wears them (though with shorts underneath)

{Is this alright? ^.^ }