In 2025 a strange plague swept the nation, infecting hundreds and leaving hundreds more dead in its wake. No one knows where or why the illness originated. All anyone knows is that if it doesn't kill you, you become something that's a far cry from human. How the illness is passed from person to person is also still unknown causing much fright for the people of Earth.

Ten years later people are still becoming infected. Scientists are still scrambling to figure out the cause, many loosing their lives because of it. One civilian man decides to take eradication into his own hands, refusing to let anyone stand in his way. This is his story and the story of those who helped and went against what he fought for.

More information in the OOC thread. (Q&A there)

Characters needed:
Brandon's Sister
Supporter x5 x1
Opposer x5 x4
Infected

~Rules~
1] Follow Mene's rules and guidelines
2] No godmoding!
3] No playing another's character or controlling them in any way without their consent
4] Ask ME permission before you kill off your own character or someone elses. That goes for killing the infected as well!
5] Please respect all the other RPers here.
6] When speaking out of character please use {~}, [~], (~), or ((~))
7] The rules can change if I feel it necessary so check up on this as often as you can
8] Have fun!

~Profiles~
Please PM the skeleton to me or post it in the OOC thread- do NOT post it here! Thanks!

Skeleton:
Character name:
Age:
Gender:
Role: (supporter, opposer, infected, etc.)
Weapon(s): (optional, don't go overboard!)
Personality:
Bio:
Appearance:
Extra:


Accepted profiles:

Originally Posted by AlexandraAnn

Character name: Brandon Lewis McLennan
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Role: Eradicator
Weapon(s): Beretta 9mm pistol, Remington 870
Personality: Independent, original, analytical, and determined. Has an exceptional ability to turn theories into solid plans of action. Has value knowledge, competence, and structure. Driven to derive meaning from his visions. Long-range thinker. Has very high standards for his performance, and the performance of others. Natural leader, but will follow if he trust existing leader.
Bio: When the illness first broke lose his family didn't see the big deal. Only when his mother got infected did they all realise how bad it was. He watched as his mother got worse and worse, loosing who she was before all controle from her old self was gone and he walked in to find his father dead at her feet. That day his sister was with him and when they ran away they split up. He never saw her again.
After a day or two he returned to his home, expecting the thing that was no longer his mother to be gone. She wasn't. The first infected he killed was his mother using his fathers shotgun. For months he walked around like an animated corpse and he was never truley the same. He swore, at the age of 18, that he would find a way to put an end to the illness, even if he himself had to become infected to do so.
Appearance:

Originally Posted by Roslynn Von Nightshade

Character name:Zatchin Isabelle McLennan
Age:19
Gender:female
Role: Brandon's sister/opposer
Weapon(s): Merely two hand guns.
Personality:quiet and shy, but extremely intelligent. She is ever curious, yet afraid to indulge in that curiosity. She is an observer, not one to take action.
Bio: She doesn't remember a lot before the runaway. She remembers her mother... How she looked so much like her mother. And her brother, who meant the world to her. She had planned to find him again, but got lost, and couldn't find her way home. For a long while, she merely camped out in secret places, familiar to her, yet unknown to others. And one day, when she had been reading a book, one of her old friends dropped by. But something was... Odd, about him. Her first kill was her best friend. It traumatized her. Since then, she has become slightly schizophrenic, speaking to things that do not exist, seeing things she shouldn't. It scares her. She now travels from place to place, she will spend the day on one place, but will not stay there for evening. Her whole life revolves around her quest to find her brother, and society, and to stop seeing the man she calls 'flops'. She isn't exactly thrilled to be a nineteen year old who has an imaginary friend. And she knows he doesn't really exist, on top of it.
Appearance:

Extra:
Other than flops, she has been noticing weird things with herself lately, like something in her brain is changing... She is very afraid of this, and has developed a problem with speaking in third person.

Originally Posted by Hollyshort

Character name: Cain Haseo

Age:21

Gender:Male

Role: Supporter

Weapon(s): He has grenades (as seen in the photo) that have a huge electric charge before exploding. He also has duel pistols along with his bloody katana.

Personality:A harsh loner who refuses to work with anyone. He only has one emotion, anger towards to infected, that angry fuels him to slaughter without a second thought.

Bio: Cain grew up in a loving home, which made it harder to do what he to do, kill his parents. His parents had came in contact with the infection and it was obvious. He knew what would happen if he let the full
cycle happen but on the other hand it was his parents. He manned up and slayed them with his fathers katana which he now carries on his back. He was formally a worker for a certain weapon factory, which
is where he learned how to create his gear. He trusts no one anymore as he knows that anyone could easely carry the infection and kill him, or worse, turn him into one of their own. With the amount of blood
he has shed, he no longer cares about killing someone, even if they're on his side. He has red tattoos on his body symbolizing that he is one of pure human blood, not infected.

Appearance:

Originally Posted by Toph Bei Fong

Character name: Cassandra Aura Cross
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Role: Supporter
Weapon(s): Bow and arrows, pistol
Personality: Quiet, distant, cold, a far cry from the innocent and happy girl she once was. However if anyone can melt her heart she will tend to show her old childhood emotions.
Bio: Cassandra or more commonly known as Aura, tends to cling to the old ways. From birth she has been different than most humans. Before the infection even started to spread wildly and word had gotten out of it, her mother had come in contact with it while she was pregnant with Cassandra. Once Cassandra was born her mother died. Anyone who touched Cassandra after that was infected from the blood that was on her from her mother and that was cause for it to start to spread so rapidly. At the age of 14 her family was killed her father, and stepmother by the infectious disease that was spreading. The only one to survive was herself and her brother. Her brother was the one who had furthered her training in the old ways of archery and whom taught her how to use a gun. They lived in peace in their family's shrine just on the outskirts of the city. After her parent's death however her brother was the one to make the trips from the city back home. He had come across the infected during one of these times. It had ended up biting him and he had become infected. It had taken over him and transformed him over time Aura didn't asks questions at first, but she slowly began to see what was happening to him. One night while he slept she took his own pistol and shot him with it so that she wouldn't risk becoming infected and so that he wouldn't infect others. She after that gathered up her things and burned down the shrine her brother inside. After that day she vowed to kill any and all infected she came across. Now she lives within the city in a small home that mirror's the childhood shrine she once shared with her brother. Aura now continues to hone her skills with the bow, though she avoids using the pistol unless she must. Aura never buy's arrows, but makes her own in her spare time and thus she always has an ample supply on hand.
Appearance:
Extra: Because her mother was infected while she was pregnant with Cassandra, Cassandra acquired the disease at the time she was still a fetus. Therefore she has the disease in her genetic makeup and it courses though her bloodstream. However, it doesn’t hurt her it works as a sort of antigen for the disease itself so if she is bitten by one she doesn’t become infected by them. She still isn’t aware of this so she takes precaution anyway.

Originally Posted by Couzaca

Skeleton: OH NO NOT A SKELETON!
Character name: Wesley James Brewer

Age:29

Gender: male

Role: supporter/neutral
Weapon(s): 2 mini crowbars, 9mm smith and wesson and molitovs if not uses any thing and everything as an impovised weapon.

Personality: cooperative,dependable, trustworthy, humble, tactitious, sociable

Bio: Running with a small taveling labor for hire gang called the Freelancers Wes has seen it all from mass city wide infection to quiet farming colonies. Not much is known about his past except for the fact that his family was executed "infected or un infected is yet to be revealed" for the fact that he keeps pieces of cloth with who ever he killeds name on it and the first are named brother mother and father along with 30 others. Recently he took up a small aprenticeship with an herbalist learning remedies and poisons and is now working on mastering it.

Appearance: Middle man


Extra: Not really a guy to stick to one group he will always/most likely pledge allegiance to the highest bidder and follow with out question.

Originally Posted by Wytewinde

Character name: Sabrina Collumbs
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Role: Supporter
Weapon(s): Double Pistols
Personality: She usually acts pretty clumsy and innocent but she can be serious and she can dish out decent damage to infected.
Bio: Sabrina grew up on the outskirts of a large city. The infection took over the city within a few months but her family was able to find shelter in a farmhouse a few miles outside the city. They soon moved from there and started traveling the country side and her parents and younger brother were killed by the infection one by one until she was the only one left. She's continued to travel, gaining more and more experience with fighting the infected. She now is looking for the eradicator that an old man had told her about before he died.
Appearance:

Originally Posted by Jeanie

Character name: Tyler Anne Morgan
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Role: Opposer
Weapon(s): 9mm pistol
Personality: She is a sarcastic girl who always appear dissatisfied with everything in her life. She can be quite touchy and impulsive as well. Generally she is quite easy going but depending on the situation or the persons involved she can be short tempered.
Bio: Tyler used to live with her older sister and younger brother until they both became infected and she had to leave, she could not kill them herself so she just left. Since she left her family she has stayed wherever she could and avoided anyone who was infected. She does not want to kill anyone because she believes that there must be a part of the person left somewhere deep inside. Tyler feels lonely a lot of the time and feels guilty for leaving her brother after he was infected because of her beliefs about him still being in that body somewhere but she did not want to become infected herself and left this was her only option. She carries a pistol around with her but if she uses it she never shoots to kill only to disable, although she doesn’t hang around to make sure they are all right so it is possible that at least some will die but she does not think about that.
Appearance:

Originally Posted by Fading Existence

Character name: Arian Sith
Age: 23 (actual age 33)
Gender: Male
Role: Infected
Weapon(s): No preference, whatever he can get his hands on and use, he uses.
Personality: Cheerful and generally nice most of the time, but can turn on a whim and become sadistic and blood-thirsty.
Bio: Formerly a pizza-delivery boy, he was infected while on a delivery, when one of the infected had grazed him. At first Arian did not notice anything wrong, but by the time he did, it was already too late. He has since then stopped aging, and gained inhuman strength as well as the ability to heal very quickly, as long as he has enough nutrients to supply his body. Forgetting all about his past life, Arian became absorbed in his new rebirth as an Infected. Most of the time flashes of his old self could still be seen; cheerful, happy to help others out, and easy-going. But sometimes, with or without a trigger, he would become dangerously violent, tearing apart any living creature he came across, infected or not. His strength exceeds his body, and he often damages himself when striking too hard or moving too fast, and thus he had to repair himself by sewing the body parts back on and then regrowing the tissues between the limbs. Arian is incapable of feeling physical pain. (another reason why he often sends his own body parts flying) He looks just like a normal uninfected human being appearance-wise.
Appearance:
Extra: Arian is very hard to kill as long as his head remains undamaged. However, if his head is damaged, it would take three times the amount of his usual time to heal, and his speed greatly decreases. If the wound he sustained is a burn-wound, it would take even longer.

Originally Posted by Kilik

Character name: Kilik

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Role: Infected.

Weapon(s): Dual .454 Casull Revolver.

Personality: Independant, calm, and always quiet. A clear thinker, always assessing the situation before acting. He's attractive and charming, a good trait that allows him to blend in with the humans if needed. He's not usually into violence - he only kills if the Supporters are the first to throw the stone.

Bio: Kilik used to work at a motorcycle repair shop, for he has a passion for bikes. Escpecially crotch rockets. He had many friends, though he was always independent. He was often seen in his own garage, working on his own bikes most of the time. Kilik was kind and generous - always gentleman like. Holding doors open for people whereever he go, helping out people who need any.
For now, it is unknown how he had turned into an Infected. All that is known about him is that suddenly, he awoke in the middle of the streets, his Suzuki GSX1300r flipped on it's side next to him. Dazed, but surprinsgly alright with no broken bones from the crash, he stood up. As he did, though, he heard a yell behind him. He turned, seeing a mob with guns, crossbow, and moltive cocktails. Confused, he stepped forward to the mob, about to ask them who they were. But one of them shot a shotgun at him, blowing a hole in Kilik's chest. Surprised and shocked, Kilik thought he was going to die. But he didn't. He staggered back from the shot, but did not fall. Miraculously, he was even able to stand up straight! Suddenly though, his shock slowly died out, replacing it with an unimaginable rage of hatred and anger. Blinded by the ferocious emotion, Kilik slaughtered the whole mob, not even knowing what he was doing. But as the rage supressed, and Kilik came back to his senses, he saw a piles and piles of bloody corpses on the road. Realizing what he had done...he just smiled. Without feeling any guilts, regrets, or mercy, he turned around and lifted his GSX1300r from its sides. The key was still in the ignition, so he turned it. The engines of the bike turned alive. He got on, and sped away. From that point on, he lived his life as an Infected, surviving against the Supporters.

Appearance:

Extra: Even as an Infected, Kilik still has a passion for bikes. He rides his trusty black Suzuki GSX1300r, with his dual revolvers close at his side.

Originally Posted by diamond princess ashley

Character name: alice
Age: 16
Gender: female
Role: infected
Weapon(s): her nails being sharper then a knife
Personality: she has lost her mind and most of the times she will kill without thinking making her very dangerous at times other times she is a very hyper girl who seems normal enough
Bio: alice had been a sicentists daughtor and with her help he found out nothing that wasnt already known (never said they were good at what they did). one night her and her father were working alone in their basement when one of the infected they were studing got free from its cage they faught to try and get away but they were both infected first her father who later was killed by a mob and then her. she didnt know she was infected so after everything got setteled she made her mother and younger brother leave giving both of them a kiss virtually ending both of their peacefull lives. she now lives alone in her house only leaving to kill without thinking she is still trying to find a cure alittle of the time but now she is mostly into making herself look perfect for the mob that will one day try and (fail) to kill her.
Appearance:
Extra: her hair is down to her feet she had it grown that far down before but now its in her face

Brandon sat on a bench in Central Park, leaned forward, elbows resting on his spread knees. New York City... the place use to be full of people, excitement, and sound. Now days the place was nearly silent except for screams and the occasional sounds of animals running from one hiding place to another. It was a shock if you saw someone else. Many had died and those who had survived were either infected or might as well have been with how schizophrenic and scared they were. It was like this everywhere. The human population was rapidly decreasing.

With a deep sigh he glanced around before pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his inside coat pocket along with a lighter. The pack was pretty crumpled and upon opening it he discovered that his cigarettes weren't in any better shape. He rested one between his lips and lit it anyway, dropping the pack and lighter back in his pocket. Leaning back against the bench he took a long drag, savoring the taste and clear head it provided. Here he was, the man deemed "Eradicator" by many, giving himself cancer. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Kilik sighed, looking up at the bright sun. Such a beautiful day today, the sky so blue, the faded clouds float aimlessly across the vast blue ocean. There was a gentle breeze, and it ruffled Kilik's hair slightly. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breathe of fresh air...

Before he opened his eyes again, looking at the silent streets of New York. Everything here on the ground was still, except for the slight rumble from the engine of his GXS1300r. Kilik sighed again before setting his foot on his bike and revved the engine twice before shooting off towards Central Park, the sunlight gleaming off his sunglasses, his hair billowing in the wind.

Gun shots scream out in the hall way like demons thirsty for blood. Wes watched as if his eyes were petrified to his friend Rook on the ground writhing for some cover in the dim lite narrow hall. Where was it! 6 hours ago everything was going exactly how it should it was a normal task find a colony or tribe. Take one of the colonists own to an unkown hiding spot to make sure the bargainers would go ot with there deal. All Wesley and his crew had to do was to find a safe full of photos and some personal possessions for some old S.W.A.T. veteran. they found the place and opened the safe but some how they were ambushed and now held up in the home by a few raging infected "MARK SUPPRESSION!" Wes yelled as he dove across the hall to an adjacent room where rook laid bleeding out. It was too late..... rook was laying motionless on the floor. "WES 6 O'CLOCK!" Wes span around just in time to see an infected girl that looked in her early 30's lunging at him. Tempered steel met skull with a crack so horrid that even the lowliest scum would cringe.

It layed there twisting in pain but was already starting to heal Wesley noticed right behind it was a small crawlspace. Scrambling in he felt a hand on his ankle grab at him. He didn't know who or what it was and its intentions he flipped around feeling it scratch at him. His body started kicking at the figure on top of him almost naturally like he has be doing it all his life. The crawlspace they were in was to low though its back kept hitting the roof as he felt cold hand grip around his neck. He had to use it there was no other option he pulled out his pistol and and at the last crucial seconds he pumped two shots into the fiends chest.

It felt like his blood was pure adrenalin he realized the ground he was laying on was actually a box of old swat equipment. A figure formed in front of the opening of the crawlspace. Wes held the pistol up at the figure ready to pull but all the figure did was scream. "ALBATROSS" The word never sounded so Embracing like a mothers arms it was his crews safe word so friendly fire like what was about to happen was prevented.

"Rook" its all he could think about. they both got up and checked their fallen friends body it was warm but unmoving. They carried out there rituals like marking the door with the freelance symbol marking the dead and burning their friend. Finally they looked around for supplies remembering the box he ran back up most of it was junk but he found a light shank proof vest and some gloves he could barter with. "Were done here" Mark commanded as they set out to the Middleman a few miles away.

Carefully squishing his left hand back onto his left wrist, Arian used his knee to keep them steady, and grabbed for the stitches with his right. Such a pain...having to reattach his limbs every time he accidentally swung too hard. Of course, reattaching them was easy, it was the finding-where-the-limb-flew-off-towards that drove him crazy. Especially if he arrived on the scene and find some kind of stray nibbling on it. That angers him, and would just cause him to send more limbs flying...

He sighed, breaking the thread with his teeth and flexing his newly reattached hand. It was still a bit clumsy, but would be fine in a few minutes. He'll remove the stitches later. Even after all these years, being one of the first who got infected, he still couldn't measure up to how much strength he should use to prevent him from damaging himself in the process. He blamed it on his lack of nerves to feel pain. Some time during the infection, he seemed to have lost the ability to feel pain. He learned that the hard way when he woke up one morning after a good night's sleep, only to find his arm charred from the fire he forgot to put out and accidentally swung his hand over in the middle of the night. Took him a week to find a good replacement arm and hours to attach; it took a while before his body got used to the new limb.

Arian flexed his hand again. Almost good. Should be safe to use it again for now, he'll just have to be careful and not use too much strength. He stood up, dusting his clothes off, and surveyed his surroundings. After a small killing spree in the middle of the street earlier when some Supporters attacked him (How had they recognized him as an Infected? Do they just attack anyone they see wandering around alone in the streets or something?), the area was now smeared with blotches of dark red here and there, as well as splattered limbs and mangled bodies. Arian scratched his head. Supporters are so troublesome. They had some nice weapons and blew a few holes into him, but they hadn't actually managed to harm him as much as he had done to himself. He started gathering up the usable weapons and also a few limbs from the ground, the weapons for self-defense in the future and the limbs for food. Food was scarce, and what's better than to collect these fresh ingredients lying about?

alice was in her dads basement she was trying to see if she could make all of the people infected it was so much better then being human. she looked around and found a few things but couldnt tell much about herself "if only dad was still alive then he could help me." she stoped and looked at the room were his death happend and smiled "guess the weak shouldnt be around to bad all brains no brawn and one small spike through the head makes daddy worm food." she began to laugh as she walked up the stairs and out the front room door. she looked around the area she knew that if only everyone was infected like her the world would be a better place.

Cassandra had just finished stringing her bow as she stood from her cross legged lotus position on the floor. As she stood she stretches slinging her quiver of arrows and bow around her back. Looking around her small shrine like home she sighs softly. The pistol she always carried was strapped to her upper thigh for easy access when standing or sitting and it was hidden by her modernized kimono. She had made sure to alter it to make sure she could move in it well. It was time for her to go on patrol again of the city. She was on the downtown side of the city in her small home where the numbers of infected people had suddenly began to dwindle. You barely saw them around that area anymore for Aura had taken care of most of them that had gotten bad enough to identify.

Turning from the small shrine that was in her home it had a picture of her family in it before they got infected it was small and she bent down to extinguish the candles that she had lit, but she left the sticks of incense burning because she knew they weren't as likely to start a fire as the candles. Taking one look around her home, she then turns and walks out the door locking it behind her. She looks back at her small shrine like home looking like a shrine from the outside and inside, she sighs and takes a deep breath then takes off toward the city. She makes her way from building to building keeping an eye on the things below. After a while she started to spot the occasional human, or what seemed to be human. They didn't look to be infected or far along in the infectious process, however her blood was burning which indicated that they were in fact infected it burned every time she came across one and she had only recently had a small inclination as to why, though these people if they could be called that now were not far along, so Aura kept going til she found her way toward the park. She skittered down the building she was on using the fire escape, then made her way into the park silently. Spotting a man on a bench in Central Park she tilts her head, then moves behind a nearby tree to watch him making no noise with her bare feet as they hit the ground softly.

Zatchin Isabelle... she thought. Her thin brows pushed upward in concentration as she tried to remember her last name. She figured, after all, one might want to start by remembering their last name, before trying to find a family member, who also has that last name. She twiddled her long fingers together, with the cross medallion entangled between them.

She was in a large tent, of sorts. She had been lucky to find a really high tech one in an abandon Camping Supplies store. You press a button, it goes up. You press again, it folds down. And it was sturdy, she loved that. She had a small sleeping mat, and two blankets on the ground. Flops slept with her a lot of the time, and he didn't like mats, so she only carried a blanket for him. She looked around to see the few belongings. Over in a corner, there were a pair of scossors and a bunch of hair on the ground. She had practiced often, and was now decent at cutting hair. Not that it mattered, no one was going to see...

She scooped up the hair and threw it into a large metal can. There were a lot of these around, this was the ghetto part of whatever town she was in. She forgot. But the point was, she never had to drag one with her. She usually used them to burn things, and sanitize the area. It was best if she removed whatever scent she left behind of herself. Flops, of course, never left a scent. She pondered for a moment just how lucky he was, and than how she wondered where he had gone off to.

There was a rustle at the entrance, and she smiled. On a normal intrusion, she would have grabbed her gun, and fired. But Flops had his special way of doing it that let her know it was him. She didn't exactly approve of his appearance, but than again, he was from her brain... He looked the way he did because of her. He stepped into the tent, smiling and waving, "Hello, Zatchy. I've been missing you sideways." he said, in his abnormal way of speech. She didn't mind though, he was kind and helpful. "Hello, Flops. she has missed him as well.." She stated, in her equally abnormal speech pattern.

That evening, as they packed up and continued walking, she couldn't help but feel the urge to say what she did every night. "Sleep tight, brother dearest..."

There was a stretch of time where he simply sat there, his mind drifting to a far off place. The cigarette rested between his lips and smoked away happily. He thought of the past, before the infected had come along. His mother and father... they'd been wonderful parents. Not to strict but not overly open either. He use to tell them everything, them and his sister. He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of her, pain lacing through his chest. He had no idea where she was, if she was alive, dead, or infected.

The cherry falling from the tip of his cigarette onto the back of his hand broke him out of his thoughts and he hissed in pain, shaking it off. At least something could bring him back to reality. It was dangerous to go off into your own little world here. The infected waited for moments like that. He sat up straighter at the thought, finishing off his cigarette and putting it out on the bottom of his boot before tucking the butt into his pocket. Hey, one day the world was going to be better, no infected left, if he had any say in the matter. Littering would defeat the whole point he was trying to make.

With another sigh he glanced around the park. Something was off, he could feel it. A light gust of wind passed through the park and rustled his hair against his neck. After it passed he strained his ears for any little sound, anything abnormal.

Aura grins when she see's him come back from himself. Smoking could be a hazard to once's health and dangerous as he had seen though he had put the cigarette out once he was done which had been a good move, as dry as it had been the past few days it wouldn't take much to start a blaze. She eyes him curiously with her soft dim stormy blue eyes. They flicked over his features and she tilts her head. He seemed tired beyond all reason like he hadn't slept for days, the dark circles under his eyes hinted at that. Aura slept, but it was in quick increments and she hadn't had any sleep for at least two days now, but she was still alert. Stepping back however she didn't pay any attention and her bare foot falls on a twig causing it to snap. She curses herself in her mind and frowns looking down at the twig her eyebrows knitting together, but she remains behind the tree, making her way into its branches for some cover.

This week just keeps getting worse... Wes thought as mark admitted that he was going to stay at this colony. "but why man we've been through so much." Mark looked at him with neutral eyes "Its my 43rd birthday I'm getting way to old for a freelance besides the freelancers are almost extinct." "What do you mean extinct?" "Think about it Wesley Brewer we started with 8 men now its just you and me . To top it off when was the last time you saw another freelancing unit?" Marks voice was now bland like he had lost all of his pride with Rooks death.

Marked removed his painters mask to reveal a patch of scars below his lower lip as if he tried to cut something out. Wes knew what it was it was the freelance mark if and when you decided to become one you scared your lower lip as a sign you've devoted your body to traveling the land killing infected and picking up any tasks along the way it was one of the only professions left. Wesley didn't want to admit it but Mark was right he was getting to old to be a freelancer and that there were hardly any units left. "You know what you should do Wes go to New York you will easily form a new unit there only the brave or insane step foot in that screaming concrete death trap." Mark smiled at him as a proud father would smile at his only son.

The Next Morning

Wesley fastened the vest around him it fit almsot perfectly it thick black weave covered his upper arms and half of his neck which meant it would be a advantage if a infected tried to take him down with its claws teeth or blades but not against guns and some blunt objects. he hopped on the ATV provided by the colony as a great apologies for your friend dieing gift. "well here goes nothing..."

"Boom!" the sound rocketing around the area. "And another one bites the dust.." said Cain. The infected human fell down, blood pouring out of it's body. Cain twirled his gun and put it back in his holster. He left the area and went to what he called home, four walls a roof and a mattress. He activated the grenade traps and went to sleep.


"Dad, no, I can't do it!"
"Yes you can son, do it now!"
"No, I can't go through with it!"
"Just strike me down, KILL ME!!"

Cain jumped off his mattress. "Not again.." he said to himself. The past week, every night he had repercussions of what had happened that one fateful night. He looked at the bloodstained katana and took it. He exited the place, not knowing what was going to happen next.

(One day has passed already? o_O;)

Arian was in a good mood. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...16 large pieces of meat! It would be enough to last him quite a while as long as they don't go bad first. Whistling, he started carrying the chunks back towards his hideout, a caved-in shop with a small opening and a rather comfy internal. It was a hard job, since his arms weren't that large and he could only carry as much with his hands and teeth, but in the end he managed. Dragging the bloody parts inside, he threw them into a giant cooler (without electricity anymore, but still good for preserving food) and dusted off his hands again. He'd already snacked on one of the arms and now there were only 15 chunks left...still a good quantity though.

After that, he proceeded to clean up the blood tracks...never know when there might be a Supporter around that'll see the den-like look of his shop and try to do something stupid like interrupt his sleep in the middle of the night. Scrub...scrub...scrub...It was annoying work, especially since he didn't have running water with him. But dust and debris helped. Gradually the blood tracks disappeared, and Arian nodded in satisfaction at his own work.

Now what... he thought. He didn't like conflicting with the Supporters or any human, he preferred to be left alone. Which is good since it's pretty much alone everywhere you go nowadays. Whistling, he started making his way towards the Central Park; there was a nice view there, and if he could find a nice private place he'd be able to watch the scenery for the entire day without disturbance.

((xD I'm pretty sure that he was describing the day before first and is now up to times with us))

At the sound of the twig snapping he jolted to his feet and pulled his pistol out within a second. He quickly scanned the area with trained eyes but could see nothing. "I know you're out there. Come out and I won't do you any harm." He said it in an even tone, knowing it was the best approach with an infected and if it was someone who wasn't it wouldn't frighten them. He didn't yell it, there was no need to. The snap had been close enough that he knew they could hear him if they hadn't already run away and if they had what was the point of them hearing him anyway?

Cassandra was poised on the branch eying him curiously, she looks at the pistol and tilts her head. Grabbing the branch she swings herself down and lands on her bare feet in a crouch. Standing she moves her long dark brown hair out of her eyes and looks at him curiously. "I mean you no harm sir you can put your pistol away." She tells him in her soft pure voice. The bow could be seen clearly though her own pistol was hidden. Cassandra was just standing there not taking a defensive or attacking position to show him she wasn't going to attack him at all. Her blood was relatively calm not burning at all or throbbing so she was sure that he wasn't infected and therefore she had no qualms with him.

(nah I'm just starting my guy a couple weeks back it kinda seems cliché when every one starts in the exact same area for 10 years and haven't met each other until now.)

Wes was on foot now but it didn't matter after 3 weeks of riding running and at one point swimming he finally made it to New York!

Kilik slowed down to a stop, a block away from Central Park. He knew there were people there - but from which side? Being the cautious and paranoid person he is, he got off his bike, and kicked the stand out, letting his GSX1300r rest behind the shadows of an abandoned building that looked like it was about to collapse soon.
He took off his sunglasses, putting them in front of his black leather jacket. Putting his hands in his pockets, he walked towards Central Park, his Infected abilities muffling the sound of each step he took.

alice was walking around randomly she knew that if she got bored enough something good was bound to happen. she made her way to the park "i wonder if i can have some fun here." licking her lips she found her way to a small area with alot of flowers and she layed down in the grass her hair covering her face.

(Oh. Oops, my bad. Hadn't been reading too closely having just got out of bed. :sweat:)

(And yay for everyone crowding over towards the Central Park! :insane:)

He heard the voices before he saw them. One male, one female. Neither were infected. Arian didn't know if it was an Infected thing or just him in particular, but he could sense the 'waves' coming from other creatures to tell if they are infected or not. He guessed it was kind of like how the zombies tell each other apart and not end up killing their own kind before they took down the humans. Convenient. If only the range were a bit longer, and not having to get near a fifty-yard radius of said creature.

Since he wasn't sure if they were friend or foe, Arian paused and scratched his head, standing behind a tree and observing the two. To greet or not to greet? He could see they were armed, and their guns could blow quite a hole into his body. He couldn't go watch the view like this, not with two unknown, armed targets wandering about.

"How bothersome..." He sighed and kicked at the tree in front of him moodily. Guess he'd have to make do with sitting up in a tree or go elsewhere. He wasn't in the mood to have a confrontation again so soon, not after his earlier fight.

For a long moment he simply stared at her, gun aimed between her eyes. 'Female? That's not what I expected. Survivor? Infected?' He shook his head, shooing the thoughts away and lowered his gun. She didn't attack him when she could have and that was sign enough for him that she either wasn't infected or she had a damn good ability to hide it well. "I'd apologies but you can't be too trusting in these times. I'm sure you understand." He tucked his pistol into his shoulder holster and patted his jacked back over it. He already wanted another cigarette. He could tell that an annoying cycle was beginning. Kill some infected- smoke. Get freaked out by some chick in the park- smoke. Pretty much anything that could involve a human, infected or not- smoke!

He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration before dropping his arm back to his side. "What's your name?" Upon discovering someone he figured wasn't infected it was the only thing he could come up with. Pathetic, yes, but he wasn't really going to throw a celebration.

Sabrina looked up from the trash can she'd been digging through for food. She looked around searching the area for infected and put her hand in her bag ready to grab her pistols if necessary. After she'd determined that the intersection was clear for the moment she grabbed a handkerchief out of her bag and wiped the small pieces of rotted trash off of her arms. She glanced down at the handkerchief and examined the faded name on it's torn up surface. Her mother had given it to her when her brother died to dry up her tears. But she was never able to give it back cause her mother died soon afterwards. She quickly shoved the handkerchief back in her bag and pulled out one of her pistols, aiming it across the intersection towards an infected she'd heard. It just stood there as if unsure of whether she was there or not. Sabrina didn't feel like being food right now so she quickly shot it in the head a couple times before it could make a move and it collapsed ungracefully to the ground.

Sabrina had to leave now. A horde would be on its way soon after being disturbed by the shots. So she ran down the street opposite of the way the infected had come from. She was careful not to make more noise than the sound of her shoes hitting the cracked and overgrown pavement.

alice began to hum a song her mother used to sing to her before all of this happend all her fun today and she was still bored enough to hum that stupid song "man i want to have some fun mabye rip somebody apart." she giggled at that thought it was always fun to her to hear people scream.

Tyler sat on the floor of the abandoned apartment building she was almost positive she shared with at least some infected people, which was why she never used the door and kept it locked at all times, she used to window as a door and the fire escape to get to ground level. She had her legs crossed underneath her while she checked the ammo in her gun, she didn’t like to use it but if she had to she liked to know it would work. The apartment she stayed in was unfurnished with no gas or electric, she had a small supply of bottled water in the cupboard under the sink and a fridge just because it was there, it was a small apartment with only 2 other rooms besides the one she was in. Her bed was a mattress on the floor and her clothes lay scattered across the floor, on the windowsill there was a photograph of Tyler with her brother and sister carefully placed so she wouldn’t knock it over every time she went in or out of the apartment. Tyler yawned as she got up and placed her gun on the counter, she heard people walking on the creaky floor boards outside her door, she rubbed her eyes and moved to her bedroom picking up her trainers she pulled them on pulling her jeans leg down over the top covering over half of her shoes.

She dug her black and red hooded jacket out of her clothes pile and pulled it on zipping it up over her black tank top, she stretched her arms up as she moved back to the main room of the apartment and picked her gun back up. Slipping it in the back of her pants she went back in the bedroom and opened the window. Tyler jumped off the last rung of the fire escape ladder bending her knees as she landed on the pavement below. Checking her gun was still in place she yawned again, she was getting more sleep that the last few months but still not enough for her to catch up on the sleep deprivation. She almost wished that she wasn’t alone then maybe she would have someone to keep watch while she slept and vice versa. She walked down the alleyway towards the main road, being cautious in case any of the infected were around. She didn’t have any particular place she was going but sometimes she didn’t want to stay in that building, she still had hopes that they might be able to fix everything and she could go home. Part of her knew it wasn’t likely but part of her needed to believe to be able to carry on. Her hands in the pockets of her jacket Tyler walked along the pavement broken glass from various shops crunching under her feet, she sighed if there was one thing you could count on humans to do it was ransack shops whenever there was some kind of disaster causing panic.