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 Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 9:20 am
Zphal got off the train with a feeling of surreality. She was surprised that under the circumstances, the train was still in service. It was a small wonder the zombie scum hadn't eaten through the wiring.
Zphal quickly checked through her equipment... dual blades on her back, a number of knives stored away, ammo for her 12-guage. She cocked the gun and held it at the ready. The only place to head was towards the graveyard.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 10:37 am
Erah got off the train, scanning the territory. It was quiet, and it was calm, reminiscent of the storming season back home. Something was about to break, and it was going to be bad.
Fingering the knives in her belt, she hopped off the platform, and started heading east. This was going to be a hell off a day.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 11:06 am
Ame got off the train and brushed back her long purple hair. Her eyes, the same shade as her hair, scanned the area outside of the train nervously. She'd been away for so long, and had hoped that her homecoming would have been more peaceful. Unfortunately that was not the case, as the world had just recently been infested by zombies.
She cringed as she checked her supplies. She had a few knifes placed in strategic places against her body. One was on her ankle, another on her wrist, and yet another on her upper arm. She had an axe hanging against her side, a gun in a holster at her hip and a bow with a quiver hanging off her back.
It was a rather heavy get up, but she'd rather be prepared. She sighed, unsure if she was ready to fight the zombies, but knew that she had to.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 11:14 am
hm the names disliker of the mary sue. ithe guild hasbeen assigned by a mysterious person to solve the case. hm it wont be easy though. gulidmaster has assigned everyone to try to solve the mystery so i have alot of competion. i went to the inn to get a room for a few nights. i hope for some luck in this quest.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 12:06 pm
SPI -14, also known as Jad, exited his train car, clad in full armored hazmat gear. He gazed about the station. No undead in sight. good. He hoisted his bazooka and kicked off the ground to float on the power of his jetpack. It was time to fry some brain-eating monsters. He shot out of the station, leaving behind a trail of ionized vapor.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 12:22 pm
*Malia_Maria tumbles off the train and looks around the area* "Hmm... interesting place, where to first" *Malia_Maria decides on where to go first and goes into the Inn* "Seems like a good place to start!"
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 2:21 pm
I stepped out of the train car, my tail waving in the air. I lifted my head and sniffed. I closed and spun on my heels, and I ended up facing south. I head in that direction, ears alert for anything slow and shuffling.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 3:30 pm
I glanced around.
"The train station?" I thought. There were people getting off the train nearby, most of them armed. This was the mortal method of transport I would have gotten on, had it not been for the immense queues. I had resorted to using a teleportation spell to get to where I wanted, in a rush to get my job done.
"Well at least I know where I am now."♥ Click it nao.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 6:04 pm
after a long walk back here i decide to complepate my path. hm i dont want to meet up with okami again. she would kill me at my stae. i can only survive one death per day.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 6:19 pm
*having the strangest feeling that her evil deads of destroying the tea shop fail. she gets a message from one of the guild mod to not do it again.*
man they never let me have my evil fun. oh well i did what happens now it up to chance.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 8:44 pm
I arrive at the train station again, and I stretch. I smile, feeling good.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 10:09 pm
I arrive at the train station and had a bad feeling.A rather chilly feeling by the way.I went on my journey in the cold dark night in search of zombie killing. . . . ninja
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 11:13 pm
It was a three hour train ride from the cityside, slumped down on the train with her briefcase of non-important items: namely a blue toothbrush, a pair of apparel just in case- she needed to change, a half-empty bottle of store-bought vodka, a digital camera, and her chubby wallet protruding out from her dark denim jeans.
If it had not been him who had called her that unfortunate 3 in the morning, Artemis Danver wouldn't have bothered to buy herself a C-Class ticket and heave her idle behind onto the Station that noon.
It was 3 in the afternoon, and the skies above were overcast and painted a slight turquoise. She was dizzied by the speed of the train, trees passing by but did not bother catching up with her.
There were five of them on this train ride: a man slumped to a corner with a sack of clothes; his calloused hands scratching his unshaven chin. Opposite her red leather seat was a middle-aged woman with her pink frilled child at hand, the toddler obviously not happy with the trip. The last guy aboard was about Artemis's age, mocha-skinned, and sporting military wear. He had a sniper rifle in his hand, which told everyone clearly not to mess with him.
She couldn't help but keep to herself. The crowd, after all, was unpleasant.
Who'd want to talk with a bum? Or a poor mother with a spoiled child? Or Why Not World's next G.I. Joe?
Artemis wouldn't even chance it. The clear view of the countryside passed by in the form of hillside views and lush terrain. She had lifted her drunk head from her hands and groggily gathered her belongings... the ride was over.
The automated doors whooshed open with the futuristic effect of smoke entering the train in collected puffs. The woman and the child, obviously unsatisfied with their joyride, hobbled away from the transportation. The bum followed next, and didn't bother with the hole on the back of his tattered sweats. The last man however, instead of leaving the train to attend to his own business, walked over to Artemis's side and coolly handed her a pistol.
Incredulously, Artemis looked up and slurred, "You wan' me to kill yuh?"
The man remained unfazed, and dropped the weapon onto her lap.
"There are zombies around, ma'am. Best we keep ourselves safe on this voyage."
Zombies? The man's clearly a nutter. Not just a nutter; a mental one, as a matter of fact.
"Either you've been smoking crap, or I've just heard the wrong thing... zombies? C'mon, you know there's no such thing!" Flailing her hands wildly in the air, she pocketed the pistol and stumbled out the doors.
The man, again, paid no attention to her snide-comments. After all, she was drunk.
"Keep yourself safe, ma'am. Never wander by the graveyard."
The thought hung dry by a deaf Artemis's ears. She was getting dizzy, and soon enough, a wave of nausea would make a detour through her mouth.
She stumbled by a map of the town and pointed her finger around haphazardly at the hand-drawn illustration. She needed a room, and the Inn was the perfect place to get one.
Lazily tiptoeing - though she didn't know why - she took her time getting to the Inn.
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Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 11:20 pm
Artemis felt quite disappointed. He wasn't at the Inn, where they were supposed to meet, not just to inquire herself a comfy room.
Zombies were the main commotion of the small town, but Artemis Danver knew better than to believe such blasphemy. The countryside breeze filled her lungs with fresh air and the scent of honeysuckle, the wind proved itself cold as it whipped through her flushed cheeks.
She took her knitted green scarf in one hand and wrapped it along her mouth, just below her nose. She had to clear her head up; thinking too much would make her nose bleed. Artemis padded her boots along the dirt path, walking South.
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Posted: Sat Nov 01, 2008 7:19 am
Note: Mr. If is not eligible for a prize. He is Strideo's mule.
Mr. If stepped off the train and onto the platform as an attendant lugged his heavy trunk dumping it unceremoniously at his feet. There was a crowd of people mostly getting ready to board the train and leave the area due to the zombie crisis. But Mr. If noticed a few heavily armed people leaving the station and going their separate ways, presumably to take on the crisis at hand.
As much as Mr. If considered himself a thinker and not a fighter he couldn't deny the call for help from the people of his homeland. He flicked his wand and proceeded toward the inn with his cumbersome trunk following along animated by a magic power creaking as it scooted on little wheeled casters.
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