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Zombies RP: The Story So Far

Stephen_Hawkins
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9/17/2012 5:06:14 PM
Posted: 4 years ago
Ah... Lorient. A little slice of soft brown sh!t in a world of hard, cold cr@p.

It was once a peaceful town in their own little corner of the world with dedicated workers always powering the dam and the surrounding town. When the dead began to rise, Lorient was nearly overrun. Somehow, the people of the town survived and fought off the waves of dead. A fortress was eventually built around the town with guards posted around the clock. Three men kept the town running and they were the ones who knew the operations of the dam the best. The water and electricity that was provided to the town soon caught many eyes, some of them being people who wanted to find a safe place to hide and the others were those with more devious intentions in mind.

A man came to town with a small group of mercenaries. After spending some time in the town and by cleverly placing his pieces, the man was able to take over the town through force and intimidation. There wasn't much the people of Lorient could do and the ones who could possibly defy him fled to the dam. The three men who were looked to for leadership locked themselves in the dam. Despite their hatred for the man who then went to call himself The Duke, the three men kept the power in the town running.

Lorient soon plummeted into a settlement ruled with the iron fist of one man. He fell in love with the power and he craved more. He started putting harsh punishments on those who committed petty crimes. He then started forcing people coming into the town to pay a toll. If they wanted to stay, they needed to offer items of value. Things were going smoothly. He was in power and he had everything under control.

Harry Brown did not conceal his impatience. The Duke was 30 minutes late. The group spoke in muted voices, with six men waiting with Harry, speculated in the Waldorf Astoria suite whether The Duke had abandoned the meeting. "I'm sure he'll come," suggested one. His irritation was not assuaged.
Dealing with dictators was usual for him, the 65-year-old chief of this enterprise. In his experience, business has always been controlled by feudalists, kleptocrats, zealots and fanatics. "Go to the top, do the deal, and the rest follows" was the Harold Brown way.

Over recent years working as an engineer born in Peckham he encountered many of the world's despots on the business. Renowned for his reserved, focused and analytical manner, they say, able to run all the negotiations as he ran the business itself - with clockwork efficiency. Of course, it's all sh!t. You just have to know the business, that's all. Guns, according to the Harold Brown textbook, never surprises; principles never changed, only the circumstances. The Duke, he knew, is no different from other authoritarians except that he had three hundred trigger happy armed guards surrounding the building with rusty QCW-05s.

Although outspoken and prone to steamroller those he disdained by the sheer weight of his intelligence, the Duke was awkward in the limelight. No concessions were offered to friends or opponents. Unglamourous and conscious of his harelip, he personified the arrogance which united the black market in hatred and admiration.
Today, however, was not a moment to ponder stereotypes. Other heads of state had been exposed to his scorn, but, nearing the end of his years of crime..."I've grown soft." Harry half-interestedly thought. "I'm aching to sinch this deal. If, as expected, the Duke agrees to finance our little enterprise, we'll be able to be safe. No more running from the zombie menace. Not like Ireland - dear God, not Ireland again..." The Duke knows what happened over there. He knew what happened in Ulster - he doesn't want to fall victim to that. Merit and the odds, he knew, are in his favour.
For the last 3 days he was stumbling through Britain, through the Channel, through Bretagne to reach Lorent. One of the last bastions of civilisation, France, so they say. A pile of cr@p, of course, there's still the zones.

One in Aquitane, one in Brussels, one in Berlin, dotted about, everywhere. If we get there, they'll take us in, and we'll be able to survive. During the last couple of days, this proposition had improved beyond my original imagination. The Duke realised as well as anyone that if there was a chance - just a chance - that the zones were real, that it had to be taken. The Exodus was coming, after all, and everyone needs to be prepared.
"Alright, boys, we all know why we're here, so there's not much point fvcking about talking about it", the Duke said. He quickly walked in, wearing a full military uniform. Of course, he doesn't seem to realise he is wearing the outfit of a French soldier private, which made Brown silently laugh. He walked around the conference table we were sitting in, in the old Town Hall. It's surprising to see how dilapidated the building is after just a couple weeks without cleaning. Papers littered on the floor, wallpaper looks ready to peel, a stray cobweb with no spider in its home.
"I want you to get to one of the Zones. I want to know which one is safe. I want you to go there and get me a spot. This sh!tty town isn't going to fuckin' last, and I don't want to be here come... you know." Of course, he meant Exodus. People don't like to talk about it: the end of the world, that fuckin' thing is. A billion zombies, pouring over into Europe proper. Zeds were dealt with, to a degree, over here. The population was kept down - fvck knows how. The zombies were like a plague infesting and destroying the landscape. A billion of them, maybe more, pouring into Europe is the end. Unless, of course, the zones are what they're fabled to be. Massive places of safety. Big buildings, places we can all stay and ride out the wave. And when the zombies all die from starvation - if the zombies die of starvation - we can begin again. Rebuild.

"But that's only if we get there."
"When you get to a Zone, come back to get me. I'll reward you greatly, and we can all go there together. We'll live like mothafuckin' kings!" Of course, Brown weren't going back. Why should he? The bloke's a twat and that's all there is to it. Hewouldn't be able to get him in time anyway, so there's no point trying. And anyway, safety is best without him. He's giving us our equipment to get out there, our food and water and guns, anyway. An awkward silence paused. Then another. He only just realised: he should speak now.

"Cheers, Duke. We've got to get on our way, so let's say the plan. We've got 4 different rumoured zones. Aquitane is in the south, but there's fvck loads of zombies down there, so I've ruled it out. We've also got one in Paris, which is surrounded by fvck more zombies, but there's more chance that a buggering zone is around there. On top of that, the route to Paris is quieter and safer. After Paris as well, there's the zones in Brussels, Berlin, Strasbourg, Munich and Rome. Munich is zone One, so I know it's safe there, but it's the furthest off by far. My vote is to go for Paris, nick a few choice sh!t, and then buy entrance to the zone there, and make a few bob around and...well...survive. I'll wait for everyone's input though, before going." Brown then leant on the back wall, and lit up a cigarette, then remembered: they took all his stuff before he came in. He only had the one box of Royals, and no lighter. One of the guards luckily lit one up for me - he must have been sixteen, seventeen, wearing a green beret and a Foreign Legion Honour Guard outfit. He stood there, waiting for everyone else's opinion on the matter.

"Hmm...I would say our best bet is too head towards Munich", said Jean Valijean, eyeing one the guards near him to make sure he wasn't gonna try anything funny. Jean didn't like this "Duke" bastard one bit. Was runty, overconfident, and far to trusting. Jean had almost laughed out loud when he saw him strutting in the room like he was king of the world with his military suit on. Someone had faile
Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. Teach him how to be Gay, he'll positively influence the GDP.

Social Contract Theory debate: http://www.debate.org...
Stephen_Hawkins
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9/17/2012 5:08:31 PM
Posted: 4 years ago
Someone had failed to inform him that he was wearing the lowliest suit the military gave. Jean smiled. Yeah, like I'm gonna use my skills for him. First thing I'm doing with all that gear we're getting is finding who wants to come with me, wherever we are going, and shooting whatever idiot actually wants to help the Duke out. Can't believe I've been forced to stay here as it is. He thought of home.....Indiana, the waters of Lake Michigan....now, probably contaminated with radiation. He thought of how he just happened to be in France, on an Op.......
Daniel Knapp suddenly chimes in "Hey, does anyone have a map?" The guards clumsily scramble about their persons, looking for a map of the local region for a few desperate moments, with Duke"s irritation growing with the passing seconds. A few seconds more past. And a few more after that. Then one of the younger guards pointed to the conference table, with a map of Europe in the middle, eight foot tall, hidden under loose paper and rubble and destruction.
"Thanks." Daniel Knapp starts pointing to different areas of the map. "We know for sure the Exodus is coming in a few months, we don't know when, but we do know it will come." He continues, "The best place to be when this occurs is Rome. Look, for one, there are natural defences, the Alps. They literally span the entire northern border of Italy, and there is no Southern Border. Chances are the Zombies would never make it over the Alps as they are slow moving creatures. Second, Rome is not in a central location, I mean look, even with huge buildings to hide in, you will eventually run out of food, who knows how long the Zombies will stay after the billion or so head west. Simply put, if you run out of supplies, you're screwed because you cannot go outside, or you'll die. In Italy, chances are the only Zombies there are well...Italian zombies. There are also many smaller mountains surrounding Rome in the area. It'll be harder to get to Italy, we have to cross a fvcking mountain chain, but it'll be much safer when we get there. If you think that they are slow moving now, watch what will happen if they try to cross a mountain. Also, Rome is only about 15 miles or so from the sea, maybe if we're lucky we can find a surviving a sailor or two and get out of Europe entirely."
"Fvck that," said the Duke, "You"d be spending fvcking years getting there and coming back here. And going now will take you straight towards the Exodus. They"ll take fvcking ages getting here, but that bloody long a trip and the fvcking dead"ll get to Rome bloody quick when you charge right at them."
"So you want us to cross a mountain chain?" Dave added.

He got to admit, Daniel might have made sense if we had more time. But crossing a mountain? That was a bit too much for him.

"Isn't South Italy totally lost, anyway? I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to get so close to a critically dangerous zone."
"Hmm....mountains." Jean pondered. "I would definitely be down for that. Might have to change my camp up a bit, but I can pack for that. Yeah...mountains....." Jean suddenly gets real quite, and looks off into the distance...."
"Hey, Jean, we can't have you cracking up, no offense, at the last minute in the middle of the Alps, if that is where we choose to go, so if you don't think you can do, just say the word, we need every man we can get. But, if you're sure, you're sure."

Turning to Jace, "we have information that Munich is safe right now we have no idea what will happen in the future once the billion or so zombies start pouring in. If we want to survive, my suggestion is to get as much space between us and the zombies as possible as to allow the hoards to disapait, plus, like I said, mountains...best defense possible."
"Did you little fvcker listen to what I said?" The Duke shouted, enraged. He grabbed Jace by his collar, and pushed him against his seat. "You are NOT going to mothafvcking Rome! Understand?" He screamed at Jace, before pushing him back and getting back in his seat to smoke an old Cuban cigar. One of the few luxuries left in the world.
...This "Duke" is crazy. Thought Kevin Grant, silently, sitting in the corner of the room, inconspicuously. There is no way people are going to listen to him.; He wrote in his journal. Kevin was sitting there with his Canon 7D around his neck and writing in his journal what people were saying; ....Now they want us to climb the Alps. Yeah Right!. I have to get away from this group as soon as possible. There all a bit crazy. Kevin looked up and began agreeing with anyone. "The sooner we get to Munich, the better. I'm not to sure about heading up the Mountains. Though there will be fewer zombies there, the chances of survival are still harsh." said Kevin.
Dave thought for some time about Rome, but he still found the idea of heading there unappealing.

"Right, if we aim for Rome, we're in for a long trek. I doubt we'll be able to get there in time," Harry Brown said, half-choking on the smoke from the cigarette. Damp and sh!tty. "And back." Brown hastily adds. Can't let The Duke think we are going anywhere without him. "But if we go that way, we might as well make an attempt for Paris. There'll be loads of stuff around there. I doubt we'll be getting into the Zones for free. And we can check the zone in Paris and try to stay there. We only need to get to a zone to be saved."
"Well, Dave, let's settle that quickly. I'm running the show. Simple as that. If we want to go to Munich, we're going through Parafvckinaris anyway. If we want to go to Rome, we're going through Pa-fvckin-ris anyway. So we're going to Paris. End of. Now, we want to get all of our gear, and get on the road as quick as possible. We'll take the E50. Large road, so it should be pretty empty of any hostiles. The only threat would be some raiders dotted about, but nothing serious. We can also stop in Rennes and Lemons on the way. I heard there's a community in Rennes still, so we can rest up there, and in Lemons, we should be able to blag a truck." Brown casually said, yet in a controlling, cold manner, through a puff of a cigarette. "After that, we can get into Paris, and see what's what from there." Brown then left the conference room, dropping a cigarette onto the floor and crushing it into the ground, destroying the flame.

"Come on, you overweight, over-the-hill, nicotine-stained, alcoholic homophobe wankers! We're moving out!" Brown shouted, from outside the room. He walked into the garage, and got into one of the cars: An Audi Quatro B2, Red. A beautiful piece of engineering, Brown thought, for its speed, power, and damned good looks. Brown told the Duke beforehand to get it loaded up with everyone's supplies, weapons, and everyone else's general junk. Of course, not all the junk could fit in. There's also a second car to hold the remaining cr@p: a good old, Humvee. Some of the armo had been stripped down, for better mileage and such, but overall it was a good old Army Humvee. How an American US Army Humvee, which have been outdated for a couple years now, got here, Jean would never know. Regardless, he liked what he saw. Even had a spot for a turret man, with a complementary M60 form the Duke, plenty of room for the remaining supplies, and from what he'd seem of it, good mileage. He'd seen some newer Strykers with the Merck around town, but this is what he wanted. Strykers were nice, but they chewed up fuel like no tomorrow, and lacked the speed and basic jeep-like qualities they were gonna need. Yup, this suited him just fine."
Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. Teach him how to be Gay, he'll positively influence the GDP.

Social Contract Theory debate: http://www.debate.org...
Stephen_Hawkins
Posts: 5,316
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9/17/2012 5:09:19 PM
Posted: 4 years ago
Jean sat in the driver"s seat of the Humvee, outside the gate to Lorient. The Brown guy was in the Audi ahead. As he watched the gate go up, he wondered what would become of this place. Could it maybe survive? he doubted it. Just before they were going to move out, some people, among them some elderly guy, and a kid, ran at them, opened the doors to both cars, mostly the Humvee, jumped in and said "Hit it!" I didn't know what was happening, but I saw some of the Dukes Mercs running after them shouting. Jean smiled. He yelled into the short range radio they had to connect the cars, "GO!". Evidently the Brown guy took the hint, and zipped off into the wilderness, with me and the people in the Humvee right after him. The Mercs fired a couple shots, but we were long gone before they must have realized how little it was gonna do. I considered having someone in the car shoot but, but concluded it would only out someone at potential risk, and it's not like they would hit anything. Still, we should check ours @$$s from now on for the Dukes Mercs. They could come for us. Hopefully not, but there was the chance.

But, that was a discussion for another time. For now, they were free. Free at least.

Whilst all this was going on, Ron Gant was spending a bit of time in a local bar. Or at least what could be considered a bar in this day and age. It was in what used to be a bar, very popular back before the zombies and everything went up in flames. It had nice tables, nice music and according to people who used to live here before the zombies, nice beer. Sadly, there was no nice beer, or much wine, but Ron subsisted off this daily alcohol. He sipped a bit more from his bottle of whiskey. He had been drinking in small sips, and had hardly had any whiskey, and thus was sober, but it didn't really feel like it. He shook his head, got up from his little stool, with cracks all through it, put the bottle back in his satchel and exited the bar.
He was the local doctor, sort of. There was this younger doctor that the Duke preferred, but he wasn't so experienced. Every now and then, he was taken without explanation by a few of the young chaps with the guns to a location, was given a wounded person, or a sick man, and told to fix him up. He always enjoyed those days. As he opened up the door to a sickeningly bright day, he saw the ruins of the town. Rubble everywhere, destroyed buildings, blocked off doors. The Duke had promised to rebuild. But Ron could've cared less. He eyed the dam, where those poor souls still decided to hole themselves up. He sighed, worried about all the troubles of the time. He had lived in Britain during his time as a butler, and moved to France to pursue doctoring, and was living a perfectly happy life, and then everything decided to go to sh!t. The thought of it was a little depressing, but Ron soon began walking down the street at a slow pace.
Duke oh Duke. He remembered that day Duke came into town. His small group, seemingly harmless. And then out came the guns, and in came the "true" Duke. He was a cunning man, and would do everything to save his own skin, but right now, to protect himself he had to protect the town, which benefited Ron. He didn't think of the Duke as a sort of "evil" man, or a dictator. Just another man fighting to survive. Of course, he had heard the whispers of dissent, but Ron mostly ignored it. He soon came to the walls surrounding the town. It showed two things: firstly that we are protected from the horrors of out there, and secondly, it showed the Duke's power. Armed guards patrolled the walls, keeping the monsters out, and the people in.
A sudden though came to Ron's mind. What if he left. Just left the town, left the bar, left the safety, left Duke, and went out. He knew about the zones, those areas of protection. He liked the idea of them, but leaving had never really appealed to him, especially considering no one else was really up for it, and few had left. But he had to leave, to exit this place and get on the road again. It was the only thing that could keep him...alive I guess would be the correct word. He suddenly smiled, with that usual long grin that so many people knew him by. He decided that he would wait for a group to leave, and latch on with them. It would be best that way. So when he saw the group driving out in a Humvee, he saw fit to jump in the back and hide in the tarpaulin before anyone noticed him.
Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. Teach him how to be Gay, he'll positively influence the GDP.

Social Contract Theory debate: http://www.debate.org...
OberHerr
Posts: 13,062
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9/19/2012 5:12:08 PM
Posted: 4 years ago
Do we post here?
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-OBERHERR'S SIGNATURE-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Official Enforcer for the DDO Elite(if they existed).

"Cases are anti-town." - FourTrouble

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bossyburrito
Posts: 14,075
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9/19/2012 7:18:01 PM
Posted: 4 years ago
Is this like D&D?
#UnbanTheMadman

"Some will sell their dreams for small desires
Or lose the race to rats
Get caught in ticking traps
And start to dream of somewhere
To relax their restless flight
Somewhere out of a memory of lighted streets on quiet nights..."

~ Rush
SarcasticIndeed
Posts: 2,215
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9/20/2012 8:19:25 AM
Posted: 4 years ago
At 9/19/2012 5:48:41 PM, THEBOMB wrote:
At 9/19/2012 5:12:08 PM, OberHerr wrote:
Do we post here?

I guess, because there's no other topic.
<SIGNATURE CENSORED> nac