The Virus.

First topic message reminder :

Setting:
We're in Ogden Marsh, Pierce County, Iowa: Population, 1 206..."friendliest place on earth"...and apparently the towns water supply has been infected by the 'Trixie' virus. After an incubation period of 48 hours, this virus gradually transforms the mental state of the infected into that of cold, calculating, blood-thirsty killers, who then prey on family and neighbor alike.

The virus was produced by ---surprise surprise--- the government to maintain the worlds population...and the towns perimeter is surrounded by the military.
You never know who might be infected, because for the first 48 hours you have the virus...you act like any normal person...until it slowly rots your brain until all you feel like doing is killing....and there's only one way to find out if you have it before you start getting crazy, and that's an elivated temerature.
The ones infected by the virus go in 3 stages, 1...they slowly turn crazy and parinoid. 2...their skin starts to disfigure and they get blood-thirsty (those are the ones you have to watch out for) and 3...their skin and body rots until they're mindless hunks of carcass. But who knows how long that'll take?
So we're the survivors, the 'lucky ones.' The ones who's bodies are imune to the 'Trixie' virus. We don't take it as a miracle, but we don't take it as a curse...We just want to get out of the small town, get past the military men and their guns, and start a new life.
Because everyone we know...is now dead.

Kinda like a zombie roleplay...but with a twist:)

Basic
Name: Dawn Summers
Age: 16
Sex: Female

Features
Species: Human
Ethnic: Caucasian
Skin color: Porcelain, pale.
Tattoo: Small black key on left wrist.
Height: 5,0"
Build: Tiny, fragile looking, doll-like.
Weight: 96lbs
Hair (color/style): Soft, dark brown (reddish when in the right light) Elf-lock curls, long.
Eyes: Aqua/green, bright.

Dressware
Hat: none
Shades/glasses: none (sometimes old style, black horn-rimmed sunglasses)
Jewerly/peircings: ears twice.
Coat/Jacket: black leather in the fall/ double-breasted forest green jacket in the winter.
Top: (One of the following) Black/ White V-neck. Dark green/navy american apparel hoodie.
Bottom: Black skinny jeans.
Shoes: Converse.

About Character
Relationship status: Single and not looking.
Sexuality: Straight.
Personality: Quiet, mostly antisocial, intelligent, insecure, shy, awkward.
Hobbies: Snowboarding, Archery, painting/sketching, music, people-watching, books...
Background/secret: Parents were killed. Drunk driver/ hit and run. They died, I didn't...I'm an extremely personal person, and usually withdraw from social situations. Just moved in with my grandmother, and got a job at the local bar (I claim to be 19).
Powers: (in a Fantasy) 1-Healing, 2-Water Manipulation, 3-Air Manipulation.
Prefered weapon: Anything on-hand. Gun belt with 2 pistols on hips (one with a silencer), swiss army knife, lighter.
Medical disorder: Post traumatic stress disorder.


You may know the survivors around you, but you may not. Strangers considered dangerous, and Friends considered foes. Get out, or die trying.

Role Suggestions (make one if you cannot find one you like):
New in town: Dawn, Mercy, Raven *
Brother/Sister: Danny *
Half infected: Mireva(1st-2nd stage)
Doesn't give a shit: Skye *
Town Sherif:
Sherif's daughter: Capri *
Child:
Randomers:
Mysterious stranger: Kristie *
Undecided: Alcapon

***NOTE*** respect the rules...etc etc...
My siblings will have the same backround as me, AKA Alice & Danny your parents are dead too and all three of us are newcomers in this town, alright?

***ANOTHE NOTE***
Alice is out.

For about five minutes or so, my hand was on the door handle to the outside world. Sometimes I would turn the handle, but I never pushed the door opened. Afraid of what I would find. "The scariest thing," I thought to myself. "Is seeing the outside like none of this happened. Everythign was back to normal." The fear of me being insane would be too much for me to handle. But I had two sisters. And whether they were alive or not, I had to stay strong. I was the older brother, so I had to protect them. I had to put on a mask made of stone. With a sigh, I slowly open the door.

Silence. Somehow, its more eerie to find silence outside than it is inside. Standing in the door frame, I wait there before stepping out into the "real" world, holding onto the handle of my machete for comfort. My stomach growled, and my throat was dry, and even though my body demanded for those needs, I couldn't help but have this feeling of wondering. No goal in mind. Too strong of a mask? Not sure. "Alice..... Dawn....." I said out loud, hoping that something would happen. Something to end this nightmare.

Nothing. Emptiness surrounded the town. The silence was deafening as I walked down the sidewalk, the sound of my Converse echoing around my ears. I could see one of those huge Convenience stores up the street a few blocks, it was just this walking that was getting to me. It was…peaceful. I walked along the yellow lines in the middle of the road, sun rising slowly, shadows subsiding. I put my arms out, as if balancing along the road line.

This was an action I used to do all the time. Since I was a child, I pretended that the road line was a tightrope and I was a circus performer. I did not smile at the memory. Rarely did I ever smile, before the outbreak. The Virus just made it final…

Rotting bodies and corpses decorated the street, filling the air with the foul stench of death. I reached into my back pocket, grabbing the black bandana I had picked up and tied it around my neck, bringing it up to cover my nose and mouth. I felt like a cowboy.

Each little movement in my vision, each little sound made my ears twitch, like a cat in a silent house, waiting around for a rat. I walked slowly along the yellow road line, shaking fingers on my gun belt.

After stuffing my face, I looked around and stood, grabbing a water bottle for the road. I walk out of the store and walk down the street.

When I was younger, I used to pretend the apocolypse was upon us. And I was always the hero, saving everyone... But I this was different. This was real. I used to be thrilled by the thought of being alone, hijacking cars, shooting down zombies, but I had never believed it would come to this.

It wasn't so exciting. Because it wasn't my imagination. There weren't reasonalbe, gullible zombies, they were fast, and would strike without warning. There wasn't trusty gadgets on my belt... It was me, my baseball bat, my guns and daggers... And I was alone...

OOC- Okay, I don't want to be a half infected, por favor. Changed my mind. ^_^ Can I be like a cousin or something?

ooc: erm, you could be a student at the local high school ? or like...the Sherif's daughter ? I'm out of good ideas...

OOC- I'll be the sheriff's daughter then. I'll post in a minute.

I was surrounded.

Hey, but it wasn't the first time. And definitely not the last time.

No, I wasn't surrounded by those man-eaters. But by weapons.pistols, knives, shotguns, baseball bats. You name it. And I was smiling. Again, not for the first time since this whole ordeal began.

I was glad my father had left all this behind. Glad he collected them. And taught me how to wield them. That's one thing i was good at: combat.

Shit. Those freaks were going down. How many had I killed again? Fifty? Seventy-five? God, I'd lost count. I was getting creative with it to. Hell, of course I was scared! But only for the first three. Now it became a game. I had been the hunted. They were the hunters. But now. There was a new predator in town. Stalking the man-eaters that everyone was afraid of. I laughed, long, dark hair falling into my amber eyes.

Someone's gotta have the guts.

It was happening again.

I was having another one of my panic attacks. They started off slow, like a prickling in my nerves, but quickly it would be washed over me like a giant title wave. And all I could do was wait it out. Right now was probably the worst time for it to happen, but I couldn’t help it. I dropped to the ground, in the middle of the road line where I had been walking and embraced my knees, shaking and breathing quickly.

The panic attacks had been happening ever since Mum and Dad died. They seemed to come at the worst times. During a test, at a friend’s house…and now during the apocalypse. It was happening too fast…I was back in the car.

“Dad, it’s my favourite jacket, I can’t just leave it.” I’d forgotten my old leather jacket at the camp I had gone to that summer. It was one year ago.
“We can get you another, Kiddo.” Dad looked at me through the rear-view mirror, his eyes crinkling, making him look ten years younger.
“Yeah, I guess so…” I folded my hands in my lap, looking out the window dejectedly. I heard Dad chuckle, and suddenly he was making a U-turn. I didn’t really mind, I felt kinda bad that I was making my family wait another twenty minutes as we turned around. Alice was beside me, and she smiled. Danny was on her other side, and I saw him yawn.
I looked into the rear-view again, catching Dad’s eye. Him and I had one of our secret looks, grinning at one another faintly.
That was when the deer ran out, and Dad swore, swerved and crashed into a tree. I didn’t remember the rest, until I woke up in the hospital a few hours later.

I couldn’t stop shaking, but slowly I was able to stand, wiping the freezing cold sweat from my forehead. I needed to be strong. I couldn’t think about that…I stepped over a rotting corpse, resisting the urge to gag.

The Convenience store was within the block, and I bit down hard on my lip to keep quiet. I had to keep myself under control…if it killed me.

Hmm, if I may, I think I would like to join at some juncture between the first and second stages of the virus.

Alright =)

Thank you, dear.

bic: Looking over my shoulder into the overcast sky, I was afraid. The festering cough had not yet gone away. I didn't know what that meant but my mind raced nevertheless towards its inevitable conclusions...Would I be able to eat today? Would I meet my end at the barrel of a gun? Would I be victimized by some infected horde...Was I already infected myself?

No, that one I would not ponder. I refused to let myself embrace such a thought as long as I could still walk and see the world with clarity in my eyes, but what was clarity? Is it merely some illusion I used to coddle myself and prevent the inevitable pointless of my existence--forever consuming resources and contributing nothing?

Something moved.

"What is that?!" My sleep-deprived, owl-like eyes scanned my surroundings beholding only the tiniest mouse scurrying along the floor. I sighed but still committed to removing myself from that dilapidated house. On one level I wanted to much to be absolutely alone as in the cold embrace of endless space, but on another I wanted to badly to be with someone. I didn't know who and I didn't know why, but the hunger in by belly grew and grew...

It is shocking, sometimes, how peaceful death can seem. Freed from the tasks and responsibilities of everyday life, it is as though the dead have broken through the last obstacle in front of the true happiness that we all seem to find elusive. Lines formerly carved deep into their faces seem to soften; muscles that had spent much of their time knotted into rigid balls loosen, and their bodies exude a sense of peace found only in the deepest of sleeps.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Raven ran a trembling hand over the cheek of the woman who had been his mother. Her restful state was foreign to him; gone was the woman who barked orders like a four-star general, who ruled her house with an iron fist, and seemed to always be in a state of perpetual motion. Brushing his fingers over her hairline, he almost expected to see her eyes open and her lips curl into the radiant, if fleeting, smile that he had come to know and love, but of course, she did not stir. Not even the rise-and-fall of her chest permeated the intense stillness of the moment. His hand found hers as he softly kissed her forehead, brushing his lips against her cold flesh.

His eyes went out of focus for a moment as he took in the image of the man next to her. He too was unmoving, but the corners of his lips betrayed some of the sternness that had pervaded his life and seemed to follow him even after. He had been a father to Raven in all biological definitions of the word, but after the big promotion, had become increasingly distant. With a lump forming in his throat, Raven thought back to the numerous arguments between his parents concerning his father's growing workload, his hand clenching involuntarily. At least in death, he would be where he should have been for so many years.

He pressed his lips to his mother's cheek one last time and then stood up. How long had he been here for - hours? Days? Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl as a sign of respect for the dead, but the gurgling in his belly could no longer be ignored. He stood up, feeling his muscles groan in protest after being stagnant for so long, and made his way to the door. He paused just before it, turning back to get a last glimpse of his parents lying peacefully in their bed, fingers intertwined. Another lump formed in his throat as he mouthed the words, "I'm sorry," then stepped out of the room before he could change his mind.

I touched my pack that was slung over one shoulder, feeling the amount of space that I had. How much space I could fill with food. The Convenience store was just up ahead, the lights that said Quick-E-Mart had a few letters blacked. It looked like Ick-E-Ma. That didn’t sound too appealing…

I removed the bandana from around my nose and mouth, getting hit with the stench of death. Fresh death…not the old rotting corpse smell I was now used to. I stopped. Something…something didn’t seem right. I took out one of the guns that hung around my belt on my hips, turning in a slow circle. I heard my breath catch, rather than feel it.

One of those…creatures was standing in the alley way. Watching me. Not moving, not running…yet. Slowly, it tilted its head. It’s translucent skin stretching to reveal blueish-purple veins. It began to stretch its jaw. I didn’t realize it at first…but it quickly hit me. It was smiling.

Faster than anything human, it began to drag itself toward me, making a panting noise like a sweaty dog. I yelped, rather girlishly as I pointed the gun toward him and shot. It hit the zombie in the shoulder, but still it smiled, only slowing slightly. I started to step back, stumbling away from it as my shaky fingers felt the trigger again. It hit the creature in the jugular, a small spray of blackish sludge oozing out. It made a noise, like a choking, gurgling noise…it was laughing.

I was gasping for air, trying to get a good shot when I stumbled on the sidewalk curb, dropping to the ground. I pushed myself back, biting my lip against a cry of pain and holding the gun, taking a deep breath as I tried to get a good shot at the thing’s brain…

I see a girl up ahead getting attacked and with ease I pull out my gun, make perfect aim, shooting it in the head. The gunshot makes me cringe, flashes of my little brothers body slumping over hit me. I sigh, watching the thing roll onto its side and I take two more straight shots to the head.

My father had been a hunter, taught me how to shoot straight and fast. I had never forgotten his lessons...

"Better be careful next time." I say as I put a hand on my hip, raising an eyebrow at the girl.

I pulled my scarf over my mouth and nose before journeying outside. I jumped at the slightest sounds of my own feet scratching against the pavement so I nearly jumped out of my very skin as the sound of the shrill scream of a young girl and then a gun shot.

I was frightened for sure. The soldiers must have been here. They must already be killing whoever they supposed has already been infected. It's only a matter of time now.

I shivered and began to beak out in a sprint, my feet thudding heavily against the cracked pavement. I didn't know where I was going, but I wanted to be out of the open.

Alice is out, everyone.
bic:


I cupped my throat with one hand, as if choking myself not to scream. I’d killed a zombie before…about 2 in total. But nothing this violent. The ones I had taken on had been near-death…or…near un-death. I rubbed my ankle, knowing it would be sore for the rest of the day.

I didn’t look at the stranger, instead, at my shoes. “Uh…thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. She was the first actual human I had seen since the outbreak. I was stunned. Partly because of the zombie that almost ended me, partly because of the person in front of me.

The stranger gave me the look. The look I got often. The look that said ‘you’re just a silly girl, let the adults take care of it.’ I raised the bandana back over my mouth and nose, blocking the scent of the tar-like blood as I squared my shoulders, standing and resting my gun back in its holster on my hip.

“I…I’ll be more careful next time.” I frowned at how frightened and shaky my voice sounded. I looked at the ground in embarrassment…the girl made me feel like I was six rather than sixteen.

I nod slowly, watching her for a moment as she slid the bandana across her face again. The smell didn't bother me anymore to be honest, my dad trying to cook was probably worse....

She mumbles out a sentence, sounding embarassed and I sigh quietly. I look around, "What are you doing out here alone? Shouldn't you have a buddy system goin on?" I ask, realizing I was a hypocrite.

I guess you could call my gun, my baseball bat and my daggers buddies..

I didn’t bother questioning her. She definitely looked like she could handle herself. I kept my eyes on the ground.

“I didn’t know…I…I thought everyone was…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I shrugged my shoulders, hugging my arms and tracing lines in the sidewalk. I felt like a child that had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar and was getting a lecture from their Mum. Odd. How even after days of exile and loneliness, I could still be antisocial.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I was going to the Quick-E-Mart for some supplies. I just ran out.” My voice was soft-spoken as I looked out to the sunrise.

"I'll walk you." I say, a smug smile reaches my lips, "The name's Mercy." I stick the gun in my holster, and place my hand for her to shake.

There's a lot you can tell about someone's hands...Where they've been, what they've done... I guess my hands told a disturbing story. Blood encrusted fingertips from sleepless nights, chewing my nails down to nubs. My knuckles were bruised and scraped from fighting, punching walls and such. The palms of my hands were covered in callouses [sp] and a thin layer of dirt covered my hands like a glove.

I didn't see much, but when I heard that gun shot, it was like second nature to me. It told me "get here as fast as possible. You don't have to get involved, but you do have to know what's going on." Of course, how could I fight with logic like that? So, without even realizing it, I was running. Towards the sound of the gun shot, the area. I had to stay hidden though, for fear of the zombies that the sound may of attracted. Even still, I got there rather quickly (or what felt like it was rather quick).

I was hidden in a bush when I saw it. Two girls walking towards a connivence store. I sat there a moment, unsure why they where here, but then I noticed something. One of the girls.... was.... "Dawn," I muttered.

I didn’t give her a name, just walked. She seemed…sturdy. I was thinking nice, but the blood stains on her clothes made me skirt away from ‘friendly.’ I looked down at my ankle, biting my lip and scrunching my nose. I’d stumbled on it wrong when that…creature…had been coming at me. However, I wasn’t about to say anything to my new friend. I already felt like a whiney baby…

Eyes narrowed, feeling –again– like a cowboy as we walked to the Quick-E-Mart, I hugged my arms. Questions donned on me, questions that I should have asked her when I first saw her. ‘Where did you come from?’ ‘Are you hurt?’ …that question seemed silly. This girl could probably kill 20 zombies blindfolded and not get a scratch. But the big question that was ‘Are you infected?’

I kept my mouth shut, making a mental-note to save that question for a time when there were less weapons to impale me with. Who knew if this chick had anger problems? I shivered, hugging my arms.

"You're awfully quiet." I say, a smug smile paints onto my lips as I watch her hug herself.

She was hunched over, and didn't walk with much confidence. She was easily 5 inches shorter then me, but she made her height seem less by curling into herself. I take a 360 of the area surrounding us, a natural habit by this point and wrinkle my nose slightly.

"Army hasn't come to clean up the bodies yet?" I ask bluntly, flicking the bangs out of my eyes.

Raven softly closed the door behind him and padded softly down the empty hallway. Perhaps it was out of respect for the dead that he maintained the silence, or maybe it was purely out of habit, but excessive noise had never been tolerated in their house. Raven saw no reason to change this, even with his parents in their present state.

He was in the kitchen before he knew it, and with almost robotic movements began the process of making a last meal. It was nothing fancy: just a sandwich composed of bits of food that didn't appear to be too rancid. He ate in silence, allowing himself a moment's rest before he had to do that which he had been dreading. He stood up after he had finished and began the task of assembling as many non-spoiling foods as would fit in his backpack. It wasn't much when all was said and done; he had eaten most of what had been in the house during the worst part of the outbreak. He grabbed a few more necessities, and then stepped out of the house for the last time.

The gasoline was still where he remembered it: just inside the garage. He found himself feeling both a sense of relief and one of dread as he picked up the can to find it almost full. It smelled sweet as he took a walk around the house, tank pointed down. He reached into his pocket and brushed his fingers over the lighter, but instead pulled out a book of matches. No sense in burning his hand off in the process. He struck the match, and before he could change his mind, tossed it onto the pool of gas. He turned around and walked away, feeling blood flow through the hole he had bitten in his lip.

I shrugged. I was normally as quiet as the bodies that decorated the road. “Why bother? They know that there must still be survivors here. Why clean up something when the mess isn’t over?” I mumbled, bandana already muffling my voice considerably as I stepped on my sore ankle wrong and stumbled ahead. I used to be interested in the apocalypse-talk…what everyone would do if some disease really got out. But now it just seemed like child’s-play compared to the real deal.

I watched Mercy’s shadow, seeing how she moved, how she spoke rather than looking at her. Another thing I was interested in was People-Watching. A kind of hobbie, actually. After a few moments with being around someone, I could usually figure out what kind of a person they were. After the outbreak, my hobbie turned into a sport. I had to watch the bodies that walked along the street. If they twitched, jerked, or showed any sign of being infected…I would steer clear. I hadn’t watched my new friend close enough to know if she was clean or not.

Running again. Before I realized what I was doing, I was out of my hiding stop and moving towards the connivence store. "Dawn!" I said, though not too overly loud. Perhaps a bit louder than an "indoor voice". My volume didn't change, but as I got closer to them, it sounded louder. Tears started to flow again the closer we came. I wasn't really thinking to be honest. Didn't care if this was real or not. Didn't care who the girl was. Didn't care if she was infected or not. I just needed to make sure what I was seeing was still there, even when I was in front of her.