We are not sure how it started...Hell, we are not even sure when it happened. But after the Outbreak, nothing was the same. It started small, scattered reports here and there; a rumor about this, like it did in every movie. The cases were small in number and criticized for their unbelievability. But it started to spread. One by one, it took more lives. One by one, our loved ones turned into those...things. It spread quickly after that, entire towns rendered useless and devoid of life. Government's crumbled in the drama of the world, and we watched, not comprehending what was going on in the grand scheme of things. And then the world went black.
It's sad that we were surprised. Our ignorance kept us from preventing anymore deaths. Because of what we thought didn't exist, the entire world is now a vast wasteland that we call our home. We heard the warnings, we saw everything unfold, but we did nothing. We stood back and watched at the very face of the world was changed in a heartbeat. We no longer were the top of the food chain. We were survivors from then on. This little ragtag group has been there since the beginning Ignot and Alex leading the way, hoping that each step is the right one. Because now, it's not about the differences among people, it's not about race, creed, or sex anymore.
It's about surviving.
We are Those Left Behind.
Welcome to the official restart to one of the best RP's to grace this forum (at least, the participants say so). The goal of this PR is to really grasp not only the realism of a Apocalypse, but to show the human element to it. How people can continue to thrive in condition not so favorable to the human race. If you do something stupid, you'll get killed. If you run off by yourself, you get killed. If you do something that will get you killed....you'll get killed. I have no problems killing player characters to keep the story realistic. However, some of the stunts we pull as a group come straight out of a movie. So expect shenanigans.
Please, no God-Moding, these people are real people brought together in hardship. Not everyone's a soldier, not everyone knows how to start a fire or get a headshot first shot. So make it real.
I expect a fair amount of effort on your part, the player. We try to keep a close community of players so that we can share plots and push stories. If you don't get involved beside a post every now and then, you'll lack the crucial element of player interaction. That's how RP's last a long time.
Anywho, enough rambling. I'll put up a character sheet.
Nickname (If any):
Jobs in the apartment:
Physical appearance: (At least 2 paragraphs)
-Small: (Anything that can fit in your hand eaily. 5 slots)
-Medium: (Handguns, small lawn equipment, etc. 2 slots)
-Large: (Anything larger than a Handgun or a Hand tool. 2 slots)
Personality: (At least 2 paragraphs)
History: (4-5 paragraphs Minimum)Example:
Nickname (If any): Iggy (Only by Alex)
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blond (He’s Bald)
Pre-infestation profession: Russian Mob Hitman
Personal skills: Master marksman with most weapons, natural stealth, great organizer and planner.
Jobs in the apartment: Co-Leader and Point man.
Physical appearance: Ignot just looks suspicious. If he dressed like he does now before the infection, he’d be arrested in a heartbeat by cops all over. He is a fairly large man, broad shoulders and chest from the Russian bloodline, as well as toned muscles on his frame from the workout he does every morning. This gives him a very intimidating presence to those who don’t know him. But the black painter’s fumigation mask he wears as well as the red and silver sunglasses adds to his rather mysterious look.
Bald as a cue ball, he never really cared for hair, and regularly shaves it with his hunting knife to keep it clean. As for clothing, he usually is seen in a pair of camouflage pants and a black long-sleeved shirt, covered by a bullet proof vest he found on a zombie corpse. He never really seems to change out of it, but he never stinks…Coincidence, I think not.
-Small: 2 Pistol magazines (18 bullets each), Lighter, spray paint can, Walkie Talkie
-Medium: USP tactical Handgun, Beretta 92FS Elite handgun
Personality: Ignot is not a quiet man, but he is not a loud one either. He speaks when he needs to and not much more after that. He hardly drinks, he never smokes (obviously), and he rarely takes part in what he deems as ‘games’. He keeps to himself mostly, watching interactions from afar, the cold red lenses always watching. If you ever do get him in a conversation, he never talks about himself. Hardly anyone knows who he was or where he came from, besides Russia. Part of that is because he feels that he has started over. This infection is a bad thing, sure, but it gave him an opportunity to start over again, to try to help people instead of killing them. As far as he is concerned, the past is past and there is no use going back to it.
He may not talk a lot, but he is not a cold person by any means. While he can turn his emotions off to get something done, he will not just shun some one in need. If he can help, he will. But he knows when something is useless or a lost cause and will not pursue the issue further. On the rare occasion he gets so pissed he starts to yell, it is an extreme terror for anyone on the receiving end of it. After he is done, he will walk away and vent on anything, breaking things, shooting thing (mostly zombies), but he will come back later and try to reconcile. He hates to blow up and feels horrible each time it happens.
In any case, he is loyal to those he deems friends and will do anything for them. He has a fierce honor code and will not lift a hand to women or children. But his one rule is, never touch the mask. If you do, he will immobilize you and ask you politely not to do it again. Not many friends are left, but these survivors seem to follow him and to trust in him. He’s not going to let them down.
History: Ignot was known as Illaron Oksyutik before the infection, born in Moscow to a moderately wealthy family. But he was born with a weaker immune system than most, so he had to say inside lot, or keep a surgeon’s mask on when he left the house. His father, an underboss in the Russian Mob, was a very powerful man and took care of his family as much as he could. However, soon after Ignot turned 5, his father was killed in a horrible shooting of a rival gang. Action was taken quickly and Ignot and his mother were moved to a safe house in America, but as a condition of the move, his mother asked that they not bo associated with the mob afterward, in case some of the newer guys in America decided to rat them out. It was considered and accepted, at the disdain of the bosses, but they figured that the pair wouldn’t cause trouble. She enrolled Ignot in school and tried to start a new life in America. But of course, because of Ignot’s mask and his broken English, he was picked on and teased constantly.
As he moved up in the school ranks, the bullies became too much for him. He talked to a few of the Mob member and asked them to train him. They laughed at him initially, but he punched one of the members in the mouth. This lead to a beating, but an older member of the mob watched him, then helped him up, telling him that he had something these new kids didn’t have. Maverat, his name was. Maverat decided to train the boy with the help of some of the other older members.
Years went by and he became stronger, he was introduced to weapons and how to use them, close combat, and even how to look more intimidating. He bought a painter’s mask, thinking of it more like a gas mask and modified it to filter the air coming in better, and painted it a midnight black. Using his new found knowledge, in school, instead of approaching the bullies one by one, he stalked them, waiting until they were alone to ambush them and beat them.
One by one they fell. But the last one was a bit more intelligent then the rest. As Ignot ambushed him, the bully whipped out a knife he had stolen and fought back. Ignot was hit a few times, but he managed to wrestle the knife away and stabbed the kid in the throat. Ignot watched as the kid slowly bled to death, and he was surprised. He enjoyed this. Watching the life drain out of the bully’ face, eyes slowly close after agonizing minutes of bleeding out. It was entertaining. At that moment, his life was decided. He talked to the old men and asked them to let him kill. It wasn’t too long before he was a hitman for the mob.
Ignot does not even remember his first hit. Or his second. The beginning years were all of blur. He killed, got paid, and went home. His mother knew he was working for the mob, but she said nothing as she watched Ignot spiral into a bottomless well of insanity and bloodlust. Soon, those kills were no longer good enough for him. He wanted a challenge, a mark worthy of his skills. They gave it to him. He had to kill the boss of a rival family. He did it. Not much to say. But what got the old men was that he killed everyone in the house. Men, women, guards, guests, bosses, servants. No one in that house survived. As he walked out, he set the house on fire as well. The old men knew they had to get rid of him, but he was too good.
He got home later on that week and talked to his mother, who confronted him about the mob. He didn’t react at first, brushing it off as a mother thing. But as she pressed more and more, he go angrier and angrier. Eventually, he stood up, slapped her so hard she fell to the floor. Looking up at shock to him, he realized then, what he had become. He was willing to strike the very woman who had given birth to him. The person who loved him no matter what. Who gave so much to care for him and his bodily defect, and he was willing to hit her.
He stood up and walked out of the house, directly to the old men. He demanded to be let out and just to walk away. But he knew too much. He knew that the old men were planning to take back the mob from the young men; he knew locations, addresses, names, faces. He had to be taken care of. They all pulled guns and started shooting. He jumped out of the 3rd story window and landed, hard. Limping as fast as he could, he tried to get away on a broken leg but Maverat caught up to him. Spinning him around, Maverat pressed a gun barrel against his chest and whispered ‘This will help you get out. When you recover, run.’
The bullet barely missed his heart.
He woke up a month later in a hospital bed, no one in sight. Pulling out of the bed carefully, he slipped on his mask to see what was going on. The man next to his bed, a cloth draped over his body, started to move and claw at him. Briefly struggling at the shock of it, he grabbed a pen and thrust it into the man’s heart, knowing that it would kill him. But, to his horror, the man just kept clawing at him, trying to get the blanket off of him. Grabbing the small metal table next to the bed, he beat the man about the head and shoulders until he moved no more.
Ignot locked the door and lay in his bed. HE thought of his past, of his future now, and of the regrets he had. But after staring at the body of his victim, he decided. His life was over. This was the beginning for him once again. A way to shed the regrets and doubts of his past life, but to change and do it differently. This was his chance. Unlocking the door and dragging the closest corpse in, he stripped him and got dressed. Donning his red sunglasses, Ignot looked into the mirror. Using a knife, he cut off all of his hair as best as he could. Walking outside, he noticed a small lockbox that was ajar. It had his guns and ammo in there. Filling his pockets and grabbing a walkie talkie from a dead policeman nearby, he was ready to start his new life. The life as Ignot.The List of Survivors now:
-> Ignot, Hitman and Co-Leader
-> Alexandria "Alex" Rogers, Co-Leader and resident smart-ass
-> Liam Janssen, Resident IT man
-> Jason Remmington, Runner, driver, and hammer-wielder
-> Kaila "Kai" Maleko Moi, Scavenger and Green Thumb
-> Billie "Doc" McNeil, Doctor and the group's 'Mother'
-> Trista Lane, Mini-Cop
-> Sebastian Hartmann, Cloaked Literature Junkie
-> Leland Parker, Not-So-Corpsman
-> Harold Glade, The Gentlemanly HoboThe Deceased:
-> Daniel Scott, SAS grunt and resident Mad Bomber
-> Sylvester, The shy Handyman
-> Leena Gerland, Trailer park "scholar"
-> Locke Johnson, the Philosophical Bouncer
-> David Kanten, Troubled Medic with a Chemistry Degree
-> Erin Sheridan, Legal Counsel
-> Father Seth "Saint" Glendon O'Riley, Holy man
-> Oedipus "Ed" Callisto Collins, Archer and Lanyard maker
-> Michael "Coach" Matheson, Teacher and resident moral-instiller
-> Jack Cunningham the III, Championship Shooter