"I ain't gonna let these God-damn vampires beat me."
"They're zombies, Francis."
"Whatever!"
-RP Blog between Fever and Snail.
-This is an L4D RP between our characters the Hunter/Hunter and The Smoker/Danny.
-No deer, all zombie. Don't read it if you have issues with "ZOMBEES IN YOR TEF". Srsly, I will laugh if you complain.
-Don't read/watch the above video if you're squeamish, dislike cussing, or mixes of humor/horror.
-Hunter and Danny are far more intelligent than normal SI in this RP because... well, growling and coughing and wandering around aimlessly isn't all that fun. D:
-Comments on characters should be forwarded to their bios. Comments on the RPG are okay on here.
-Someone should totally join our posse with a Witch, a Tank, or a Boomer.
A month after initial infection...
All known immune survivors have been evacuated or killed by the infected. The city has fallen into quiet darkness - electricity has run out, water no longer runs, most fires are extinguished, and the huge behemoth of Mercy Hospital is packed to the brim with zombies. Infected humans, actually. Wrathful half-dead humans with no morals, no sanity, and no drive to do anything but walk aimlessly about and sleep.
Granted those were normal infected. You know, the ones that just bite and punch and go down with one shotgun blast to the torso? No, the Special Infected were the most interesting cases of this entire disease. Norma Infected mutated into more powerful, sometimes grotesque forms after being exposed to a certain strain of the disease. Tanks, Witches, Boomers, Smokers, and...
"GRAAHHHHYAAAAO!!" the Hunter screeched at the top of its dying lungs. Several of the normal Infected that stood nearby in the halls of that desolate hospital looked quizzically at the rolling ball of rotting flesh and ripped clothes. Granted it only distracted them for a few seconds before they continued on with whatever they were doing. Like vomiting. Or gnawing off their fingernails.
The Hunter rolled under a surgical gurney and gnawed at his arm - a piece of the duct tape he had wrapped around several parts of his hoodie had yanked a good slab of gray skin off his forearm. Bright red oozed from the ripped portion with the fleshier bits underneath pulsing with a pain that he could not feel. Instead, he had screamed out of frustration.
"Damn Wal-Mart brand tape!" His nose crinkled up in anger, Hunter bit at the flapping piece of duct tape and yanked at it more, which just ripped off more of his dead skin. Granted the skin underneath looked living enough, it would soon heal up and start rotting again. He needed that arm for disembowelment purposes, dammit!
Of course, it was nothing but zombies here and there, wandering aimlessly with nothing to do but perhaps accidentally trip over a Witch and get cut to nothing. But that was unlikely. Sure they were dumb and had no initial urge to do anything but attack things that were living. Some attacked animals just because they were bored or that it threatened them in some way. But other times, they were just lazy. Lazy and stupid. A tall, lean body pushed a infected away from himself as he wandered through the hallways, his tongue slipping in his mouth to speak to the infected, not like they understood him at all anyway. His hair was musty and coated with a fine layer of dust and dandruff, due to being dead for God knows how long.
Then he heard it, the agonized, no, more like angered, screech of one of his brothers. Turning his head in a slow motion, he eyed where the source of the howl. Returning his gaze to the infected on his floor, he closed his eyes and shook his head side to side. What was going on now? Was a Hunter irritated just because one of the infected just looked at him a way it didn't like? Well, whatever was the case, Danny, the Smoker who's left side of the face was completely disfigured due to the infection, would go and figure out what was going on.
Hands in pockets, he trudged slowly towards the stairwell. By the sound of the howl, he wasn't that far up. Reaching the floor, in several attempts to shove infecteds out of the way, he opened to door to see a figure wrestling what appeared to be a long strand of tape. Danny could believe that this simple little strand of tape was causing so much chaos. Tongue slipping into his mouth, he spoke.
"Idiot." He simply said, putting a hand on his uninfected side of his face. He didn't mind touching the large tumor that grew on his left side, it just seemed appropriate for the occasion. Watching the figure swear obscenities to the object, he coughed in attempt to catch the writhing Hunter's attention.
"If you keep doing that, you won't have an arm left." Danny coughed, putting a hand in front of his mouth to prevent green bile and blood to be spattered onto the floor to cause a wandering infected to fall and cause something bad to happen, not that it mattered to the others. He had seen an infected fall, another just walking right over and crushing the skull and exploding brain guts and fluids everywhere. It wasn't pleasant to witness.
A cat-like hiss filtered through the creature's clenched teeth once the tape refused to budge anymore. He was all coiled up under the surgical table with his knees on shoulder level and rivulets of blood splotching the once-sterile floor. Once he realized that jerking his head back with the tape between his teeth wouldn't work anymore, Hunter released his prey and flapped his bleeding arm around - the tape wiggled about as it refused to let go. Wet eyes glared at it.
"Don't get too comfy. You're coming off by the end of the night." Properly threatened, Hunter pawed at a streak of red on his face and peeked out from under the table. An acrid smell filled the immediate area, instantly recognized as Smoker fumes. While it wasn't exactly perfume, he didn't care for the scent. He was a reprimanded cat with the way he stared out at the much taller Special Infected, Danny, he believed was his name.
"My aerodynamancy - I think that's the word... - is ruined by this... this offensive strip!" A Hunter who couldn't fly like an eagle down onto its prey wasn't a proper Hunter at all. Hunter took pride in his gigantic leaps-of-faith onto the ribcages of his prey. It ensured that they didn't get away, or at least was wounded just enough for a second attack to kill them off. Not that he understood this urge to exenterate anything still living. It was too powerful to ignore in the first place.
Hand after foot, Hunter shimmied out from under the surgical table and turned. A small leap later and he was balancing precariously on his hands and feet on top of the table as it rolled away from Danny just a few feet. It hit the back of a musing normal Infected and knocked the dead man down onto his face. Hunter looked back at it as it hesitated, then climbed back to its feet in a stupor. "Heheheh. Ah, hm. If I still had the proper feeling in my fingers, I'd cut it off myself. But I kinda lost all sensation in the extremities about a week back."
He could be bold and find a Witch and ask her to cut it off, but they tended to always be... er... "on their time of the month". Perhaps the only Special Infected that would actively harm her comrades if they pissed her off enough. Which wasn't that hard to do. Hunter sighed and laid down, knees in the air and his arms barely dangling off the table - not unlike a resting predatory cat. "So... What brings you back to the Ye Ol' Mercy Hospital?"
Danny watched the agile man move swiftly, wishing he could move like the Hunters could. He shrugged his broad shoulders and let his tongue hang for a moment longer before replying.
"Just happened to pass by. And that strip is called 'tape'. I can get if off." Danny offered, pointing to the strip that hung from a piece of decayed flesh. It made him a bit squeamish to see dead flesh bleeding even though the dead weren't supposed to have any blood. But who was he kidding? He too, was dead, so was everything else that was wandering around the city.
Hunter patted down the sheets that still lay on the table, dirtying them with the filth that clung to his clothes. No one ever said intelligent zombies were hygienic. Far from it. He thought he was a filthy sewer rat until he saw the horror that was the Spitter.~shiver~...
"I heard some of the others are migrating elsewhere. All the survivors in this city have been rooted out. It is getting kinda boring around here..." He shrugged his shoulders and looked out one of the nearby windows. It was nearly pitch black outside, dotted with the occasional barely-flickering lamp. Thankfully his "new kind" used all their senses equally, so he could navigate quite well in the darkness. Ah, the good old days~... Plenty of fresh meat to munch on, creepy lighting, the sounds of the Horde reigning supreme...
A shame, really. Hunter loved the thrill of the hunt. Puffing his cheeks in discontent, the infected looked back to his comrade and nodded before holding out his taped-up arm. "Have at it. Enjoy it while you can. Rigormortis is a bitch."
"I noticed, I haven't heard word from the others about Survivors roaming about or heading our way." Danny said as he gently held the arm and tugged at the tape lightly, making sure not to rip too much flesh off as he peeled it away.
He was right, the good old days were gone, the times he had hid from the Survivors and strangled them helpless. It made him smile again. It was fun while it lasted. Finally pulling the tape away, he grinned. "There, all done." He said, waving the piece in his fellow comrade's face.
He had worked so hard on high-top pounces too. Now with no one to try it on, it felt like a waste. He had better find something to use it on before they all rotted away - or some still-standing government nuked the infected part of the USA. Strange how he was both expecting and totally okay with inevitable death. His first "death" really woke him up to his mortality.
"Last I heard, most were heading either north or south. North because the cold slows us down, and south because of the evacuation centers that are still up. My best guess it to go south." Hunter mused as Danny worked to unravel the tape. South meant more guns, but it wasn't like he hadn't numbly felt the bite of a shotgun blast before. The only issue he had with the south, swimming through all those dusty memories of his former life, was the open areas. As a Hunter, he didn't like walking on flat ground. If there was anything tall to climb on, he'd rather be there than in the open.
Once the tape was off, he gave the offending material one last glare before twisting his arm about. Still a bit bleeding, but it would harden over soon. "Thanks, man. Gotta find some more to replace it. Don't want wind flying up my sleeve and slowing me down."
"That shouldn't be too hard to find." Danny said with a small smile as he scratched his arm, covered in bumps of the mutant DNA. "South, huh? Should be fun." He added, letting his tongue slip out to hang as he looked towards the other infected just wandering around, being motionless and boring, as usual. He had been dying to have a go at strangling someone again, he missed the squirming feeling of a fish on a hook.
Of course, it was nothing but
Then he heard it, the agonized, no, more like angered, screech of one of his brothers. Turning his head in a slow motion, he eyed where the source of the howl. Returning his gaze to the infected on his floor, he closed his eyes and shook his head side to side. What was going on now? Was a Hunter irritated just because one of the infected just looked at him a way it didn't like? Well, whatever was the case, Danny, the Smoker who's left side of the face was completely disfigured due to the infection, would go and figure out what was going on.
Hands in pockets, he trudged slowly towards the stairwell. By the sound of the howl, he wasn't that far up. Reaching the floor, in several attempts to shove infecteds out of the way, he opened to door to see a figure wrestling what appeared to be a long strand of tape. Danny could believe that this simple little strand of tape was causing so much chaos. Tongue slipping into his mouth, he spoke.
"Idiot." He simply said, putting a hand on his uninfected side of his face. He didn't mind touching the large tumor that grew on his left side, it just seemed appropriate for the occasion. Watching the figure swear obscenities to the object, he coughed in attempt to catch the writhing Hunter's attention.
"If you keep doing that, you won't have an arm left." Danny coughed, putting a hand in front of his mouth to prevent green bile and blood to be spattered onto the floor to cause a wandering infected to fall and cause something bad to happen, not that it mattered to the others. He had seen an infected fall, another just walking right over and crushing the skull and exploding brain guts and fluids everywhere. It wasn't pleasant to witness.
track
A cat-like hiss filtered
"Don't get too comfy. You're coming off by the end of the night." Properly threatened, Hunter pawed at a streak of red on his face and peeked out from under the table. An acrid smell filled the immediate area, instantly recognized as Smoker fumes. While it wasn't exactly perfume, he didn't care for the scent. He was a reprimanded cat with the way he stared out at the much taller Special Infected, Danny, he believed was his name.
"My aerodynamancy - I think that's the word... - is ruined by this... this offensive strip!" A Hunter who couldn't fly like an eagle down onto its prey wasn't a proper Hunter at all. Hunter took pride in his gigantic leaps-of-faith onto the ribcages of his prey. It ensured that they didn't get away, or at least was wounded just enough for a second attack to kill them off. Not that he understood this urge to exenterate anything still living. It was too powerful to ignore in the first place.
Hand after foot, Hunter shimmied out from under the surgical table and turned. A small leap later and he was balancing precariously on his hands and feet on top of the table as it rolled away from Danny just a few feet. It hit the back of a musing normal Infected and knocked the dead man down onto his face. Hunter looked back at it as it hesitated, then climbed back to its feet in a stupor. "Heheheh. Ah, hm. If I still had the proper feeling in my fingers, I'd cut it off myself. But I kinda lost all sensation in the extremities about a week back."
He could be bold and find a Witch and ask her to cut it off, but they tended to always be... er... "on their time of the month". Perhaps the only Special Infected that would actively harm her comrades if they pissed her off enough. Which wasn't that hard to do. Hunter sighed and laid down, knees in the air and his arms barely dangling off the table - not unlike a resting predatory cat. "So... What brings you back to the Ye Ol' Mercy Hospital?"
Danny watched the agile man
"Just happened to pass by. And that strip is called 'tape'. I can get if off." Danny offered, pointing to the strip that hung from a piece of decayed flesh. It made him a bit squeamish to see dead flesh bleeding even though the dead weren't supposed to have any blood. But who was he kidding? He too, was dead, so was everything else that was wandering around the city.
you guys sing so beautifully!
Hunter patted down the sheets
"I heard some of the others are migrating elsewhere. All the survivors in this city have been rooted out. It is getting kinda boring around here..." He shrugged his shoulders and looked out one of the nearby windows. It was nearly pitch black outside, dotted with the occasional barely-flickering lamp. Thankfully his "new kind" used all their senses equally, so he could navigate quite well in the darkness. Ah, the good old days~... Plenty of fresh meat to munch on, creepy lighting, the sounds of the Horde reigning supreme...
A shame, really. Hunter loved the thrill of the hunt. Puffing his cheeks in discontent, the infected looked back to his comrade and nodded before holding out his taped-up arm. "Have at it. Enjoy it while you can. Rigormortis is a bitch."
---
lololol Fish xD
"I noticed, I haven't heard
He was right, the good old days were gone, the times he had hid from the Survivors and strangled them helpless. It made him smile again. It was fun while it lasted. Finally pulling the tape away, he grinned. "There, all done." He said, waving the piece in his fellow comrade's face.
He had worked so hard on
"Last I heard, most were heading either north or south. North because the cold slows us down, and south because of the evacuation centers that are still up. My best guess it to go south." Hunter mused as Danny worked to unravel the tape. South meant more guns, but it wasn't like he hadn't numbly felt the bite of a shotgun blast before. The only issue he had with the south, swimming through all those dusty memories of his former life, was the open areas. As a Hunter, he didn't like walking on flat ground. If there was anything tall to climb on, he'd rather be there than in the open.
Once the tape was off, he gave the offending material one last glare before twisting his arm about. Still a bit bleeding, but it would harden over soon. "Thanks, man. Gotta find some more to replace it. Don't want wind flying up my sleeve and slowing me down."
"That shouldn't be too hard