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Your name is Robert Susan.

It's a shit name, I know. And things are about to get even shittier. But first:

You live alone, you dont go to school, you have a dead-end job, and your parents died years back.
Fortunately, they left you with a hefty allowance. So you decided, having no goals, ambitions,
and a lost soul, to rent a little apartment somewhere that may as well be nowhere and kinda become
a NEET for a while. That is, until you realized you were running low on funds and it may be prudent
to start having an income so as to not shrivel and die from starvation. So you got a dead-end job to
keep your ass alive.

You're 20 years old but you look like a freaking chipmunk. You cheeks have a little more meat on them than
should- making you appear more 18 than 20, but your body itself is pretty skinny, undernourished by your diet
of cup noodles, chips, and twinkies.

If that all isn't shitty enough: you're now apart of a zombie apocalypse. BAM! Good luck with your life.

You're an ex-NEET and your goal is to survive.

Here, looking out the window of some punk chick's apartment, your neigbhor, you can see exactly how much your world can change in less than half-a-day.

You see, snow is a beautiful thing. Its clean, a pristine white, with a soft touch and gentle sway. It cloaks all it touches in its beauty. Let it fall long enough and it cloaks everything.
Cloaks the filth, the dirty things in the world. The things you dont want to see. It blankets the world in an illusion. Because when that snow melts, everything returns back to normal.

So what does it mean when all that snow is red?

It means you're fucked. The world is too dirty or too messed up to cover anymore. And now you're stuck to brave this new, very messed up world with three other incompetent young adults: a woman
who tried to kill herself probably not too long ago and two who were unknowingly getting high off their asses and abusing ecstasy through the first wave with their other friend who's now dead.
And now you stand right next to one of them, not knowing if he's been bit or not.

"You three picked a hell of a time to get high...and unfortunately, your friend Jenn wasn't so lucky when the end came. Madeleine and I have barricaded the stairs. Uh...we'll leave you to grieve or
anything...it's a lot of shit to proccess..."

You look to Madeleine and a Mallory that's slowly fading to actual conciousness, as testified by her expression that shows some degree of understanding if not all. Madeleine nods and the two of you leave.
You step out of the apartment and shut the door behind you. You dont have to wait long to begin hearing soft sobbing beyond the door.

"So what now?" she asks.

Note: You can ask me what you have at anytime. Like an inventory, only you wont always have access to it as it only lists what you know (or think) you own.
>>
>>446840
- acquire machete. were armed now, always.
- double check stair barricade, stealthy like.
- if good, leave it be, if not reinforce.
- acquire "jens" corpse....a decaying corpse is some serious health risk. out a window to the horde below perhaps?
- acquire roof access.
- begin room clearing, floor by floor.
>>
>>446840
See if there is anything lootable outside from the window.
>>
>>446877
>>446885

"We should check the stairway again," you say. She only nods in agreement. But first, that body and your machete. Sanitation is all too important now and you're not going through that shit struggle again.

You retrieve your machete, taking a brief look outside your window. There is nothing worth walking amongst the dead for. You meet up with Madeleine in the stairway, the first flight from the base floor. Your wicked blade gleams in the dim light and for a moment, she looks frightened.

"You have a machete?"

"Sorry, yeah. I went to pick it up before the...wave reached here." A few seconds pass in silence until she finally shrugs.

"It looks alright I guess. I tried listening for any noise outside of the door but I don't hear anything. No groans, no moans, no shuffling."

"And we can't see the lobby without actually opening the door and going with the elevator...should we ask Mallory for some furniture to reinforce the stairway?"

"Nah, I dont think it's neccessary. Not yet at least. But I'm worried about the elevator. It's the only entrance to our floor besides the roof and it's accessible from the lobby."

"Oh, the roof!"

"What?"

"The roof is usually safe in these...situations. It's high from ground and we can get a good scope of the area below and around our building." She shrugs.

"Sure. If it all doesn't work out, I can just try and kill myself again." You stare at her blanky. She pauses for a moment then nudges you, walking past.

"It's a joke. Come on."

The two of you climb the stairs but find that the door to the roof is sealed with a lock. You can always break it with the machete, easy. but what bothers you is the warning sign that the entrance is only to be used in emergencies and will sound an alarm if opened. You suppose the building managers didn't account for a zombie apocalypse when they put a sign up with the words "alarm" and "emergency" in the same sentence.

>Electricity is cut. Maybe the alarm won't sound.
>The alarm shouldn't be loud enough to alarm the dead outside.
>Leave it.
>You don't need to make a decision just yet.
>Write in
>>
Dont for tonight. See you guys tommorrow. Probably 16 hours from now. I'm more occupied on weekends.
>>
>>446998
>>Electricity is cut. Maybe the alarm won't sound.
>>446998
goodnight op, cool story bro.
>>
>>446992
Try and look for the wire that connect the alarm to the door just to be safe before breaking it open.
>>
>>447154
second this, those things always have a wire or magnets but they also have their own battery so we have to destroy the actual sound maker as well just to be safe
>use a well placed bullet or machete whatever we chose
>>
>>447154
This
>>
>>447257
Using a bullet would defeat the purpose of cutting the wire.

We have a multitool, which typically has a wirecutter located at the base of the pliers.
>>
>>447090
>>447154
>>447257
>>447814
>>447866

Roll 1d50. I'll get back to you guys in 3 hours.
>>
Rolled 45 (1d50)

>>448125
coolio
>>
Rolled 46 (1d50)

>>448125
>>
Rolled 28 (1d50)

>>448125
These high 40s, check out this 1!
>>
Rolled 40 (1d50)

>>447257
Use machete
>>
Rolled 26 (1d50)

>>448125
might not be here but gonna put my roll in
>32
>>
>>448130
>>448131
>>448137
>>448158
>>448170

Daddy's back. Give me some time to get ready and write.
>>
>>448324
Our appartment building doesn't have batteries or a generator for the alarm, right? Right?
>>
>>448365
alarm could have a batter in it...its possible.....others mentioned useing our machete and multitool to try to find a wire, or control box etc.
>>
Everyone roll for an investigatio check
>>
Rolled 27 (1d50)

>>448423
Detective Neet! He knows what he's doing, he saw it on tv once.
>>
Rolled 35 (1d50)

>>448423
I got this
>>
Rolled 35 (1d50)

>>448423
>>
>>446992
>Your wicked blade gleams in the dim light

Can we take that sheen off of our machete? Might broadcast our presence to zeds or raiders.
Maybe with some paint?
>>
Rolled 7 (1d50)

>>448423
>>
>>447090
>>447154
>>447257
>>447866
>>447814
>>448130
>>448131
>>448137
>>448158
>>448170
>>448425
>>448430
>>448432
>>448439

You read the signs, bold letters is warning. "No resident of this building or visitor is allowed to enter the roof other than for reason of emergency. Entering the roof other than for this reason will be viewed as tresspassing. Tresspassers can and will be arrested for said violation of rule." Next to it is another sign in large blue letters: "The alarm is motion tiggered an will sound if the door is moved." You look to a box connected to the push bar of the door. Its has key hole and is connected to another, smaller structure that is connected to the other side, on the door frame.

Oh.

You see Madeleine looking at you from the corner of your eye. You turn to meet her...well, general direction. Meeting eyes make you too nervous.

"You going to use that machete?" she says, nodding to the sharp object in your right hand. But you brush off her question and ask your own.

"The alarm is motion-triggered, right?" she nods. "So it uses magnets?" she nods again. "So we should destroy the alarm or something?"

"You should, yes," she nods. "I dont have my own machete," shes says, palm upturned.

[1/3]
>>
>>448452

You sigh. You'll have to work on your confidence building later. You take a step back and raise the blade overhead, wrenching it down with your hands and body in a downward swing. The swing shreds through the top of the box and you jump back in suprise. You knew trying to destroy the alarm would make noise but not this much noise. Not loud enough for any...thing outside the building to hear. You hope. But definitely your floor and the floor below. You look to Madeleine who looks a little shocked as well. She even looks back down the stairs- you do too. The two of you just stand there for several seconds, making sure you haven't gained any unwanted attention. Then you turn back to the alarm, nervous and cautious. You take another step back and send a side-way swing straight to the box.
You repeat this several times before you're convinced the box has been destroyed. The contraption looks mutilated, whatever is left hangs mangled and dented, like an eaten carcass of some long dead animal- used and worn by too many other predators and scavengers to count. You flip out your multi-tool and take a good look at the wires. You're not a locksmith but you have watched all episodes of Detective Conan and read as well as watched all the Sherlock Holmes books and movies. What does that have to do with cutting wires? Absolutely nothing. So you take your multi-tool, flip out the wire-cutter, and snip every wire you see.

(QM note: I know nothing about snipping wires in magnet-operated door locks so I apologize if this is wrong. I am a lazy QM but my mommy loves me.)

"I think that's enough," says Madeleine. "Unless if alarms are coming back to life too."

You slowly and carefully put your hands on the bar. You close your eyes and wait for the blaring cry of the alarm- to alert the dead of two healthy, living meals. Like the lunch bell in your school days. But when you finally push, there is no alarm and the cold kisses your face. You open your eyes the a white, flat roof top. The snow is undisturbed here, no salt to melt it, no sludge from being dirtied, no red from being painted by bodies and blood. You step out and Madeleine follows in suite.

"It's almost like a dream," says Madeleine. "You can't see the chaos below, only the top of some other building and then the sky. Almost like a miniature Eden. A heaven in hell."

You say nothing. The you walk to the edge of the roof and look over the city.

The sight is terrifying.

[2/3]
>>
>>448455

"It's almost like a dream," says Madeleine. "You can't see the chaos below, only the top of some other building and then the sky. Almost like a miniature Eden. A heaven in hell."

You say nothing. The you walk to the edge of the roof and look over the city.

The sight is terrifying.

Your breathe catches in your throat and your eyes widen in shock. The street look upturned. Cars are abandoned, some on their heads, bodies litter the street, some walk, and the roads look like red rivers. Some building are actually on fire, dammit. And windows are broken and you know what that means.

Something catches your eye, and it seems it caught Madeleine's as well. A green blanket is drapped over a balcony with large black letters that spell "S.O.S.". Come on, everyone knows you're supposed to use red over white fabric.

"There are other survivors," says Madeleine, stating the obvious. "Maybe we should try communicating with them."

As much as you don't want to, you might need to.

[3/3]
>>
>>448456
Yeah, let's have a look at those survivors, we'll take the machete in case they're zombies already.
>>
>>448456
If we can do it in some way that isn't loud or flashy, sure.
>>
>>448489
Give me some idea lol dont just say "sure". Like this dude v
>>448487
proposes that we give them a visit. But for something that huge, give me details.
>>
>>448496
The balcony should give us an idea, which apartment it is (floor, street-side): We go there with Madeleine as she's good with those social interactions, knock on the door till someone opens, check whether they're zombies or not, begin a friendly discussion about surviving in the zombie apocalypse. Humans unite!
>>
>>448496
First of all, locate where the blanket is relative to us. Across the street? Down the block?

Scout its perimeter. Zombie infested? A few stragglers? Signs of a fight?

I don't think we should go yet desu, maybe set up a blanket of our own, or a towel if we need the blanket to keep warm (being winter), and try to communicate with them.
>>
>>448507
Thought it was in our building? Might be too dangerous if it's away from us...
Setting up a blanket ourselves makes sense.
>>
>>448507
The BlanketPhone is born.
>>
>>448509
Sorry, I'm a stupid QM. I should've specified that it was in a building a distance away.
>>
>>448516
It happens man, dw about it. So how far? Across the street, directly in front of us? Or is it 3 or 4 buildings to the side?

>>448513
Tie 2 tin cans to a string, throw one to them, ez
>>
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>>448519
A block away, drapped over a balcony that's at the far side of a building. REALLY crappy diagram to the left. But it's just to give you guys some semblance of what Im talking about. It isnt neccesarily how to area actually looks like.
>>
>>448507
Scouting counts as an action to get credible accuracy on the walker count. You see a lot of bodies, they dont clog up the street but they're hear and there. Not all of them are up, some are just inching forward, others are just standing. Keep in mind that it's winter and cold makes freezes the body, making it slower. It also illicits hibernation procedures. The ones that arent up yet arent neccearily not yet zombies. They could be, but not moving. Meaning that they may try and attack you when you come near. To actual determine something more specific, you need to scout.
>>
>>448531
do we still have the rifle?
>>
>>448531
No reason to take to the streets yet, I say we check out the rest of our building for survivors and zombies.
>>
>>448531
>>448538
Right, thanks dad.

Considering we barricaded the stairwell, that means we have to exit - and enter - through the fire escape.

I think we should scout out our surroundings. Know places of cover, do a quick headcount of anything remotely human, then come back to our building and build a plan.

>>448554
But this first.
>>
>>448552
Hunting rifle in our room.
>>448556
We have an elevator and a front door. But we should bring our keys. There are two door, the one you enter through and press a button on the wall corresponding to an apartment if youre a visitor. The 2nd door is locked, if youre a resident use your keys and go in. If youre a visitor, wait for some sound to signify access and enter.
>>
>>448568
I thought there is no electricity and I am wondering if we have any thing long enough to cross from roof to roof
>>
>>448568
Electricity is out, so that means that the elevator won't work, nor will the visitor doorbells.
>>
>>448581
>>448583
Oh shit, we can't be fat asses anymore?
>>448583
Described the doorbell for better understanding of why there are two doors and how they work. Sorry if I confused our situation.

>>448581
We have no zip-lines, no. We dont even have anything to anchor on the other side of the building once we throw it. If it even travels that far. I would need to be both strong and light enough to carry something heavy at one edge to whip around and stay around something on the other building. And we'd need to do this twice because the blocks are pretty large. The streets have some significant width.
>>
You guys agree on a plan and I'll get writing. Right now I'll write for this:
>>448554
>>448556
Do any of you want to try for this:
>>448509
Setting up a blanket ourselves?
>>
>>448610
Search first, then blanket. If it's getting dark, there's no point in setting up a perfectly comfy blanket when no one is there to see it.
>>
>>448610
Man no blanket, lets not draw excess attention to our building.
>>
We haven't cleared our building yet have we? Also have we gotten rid of "Jenn" yet or is she still rotting away? If we don't clear this whole building top to bottom before we leave we are asshats and will return to several zombified friends. Always have machete ready when searching. No rifle. Ever. Noise is the enemy now.
>>
>>448643
Good choice. But all choices have consequences.
>>448661
I didnt go into detail on purpose. But implied it was taken care of. Next post will give you some more information. on what "taken cared" of means.
>>
>>448554
>>448556
>>448661

The sky is getting dark. It always does earlier during the winter. It must be late in the afternoon already.

"Not yet," you say. "We should contact the people in our building before the others. And it's getting dark."

"You're right," she says.

The two of your get off the roof, going back to Mallory's apartment. You're all too aware of where the body was, as if the body- not there any longer- had left a spiritual residue of sorts. You had wrapped the body with a blanket of Mallory's, with the assistance of the guy, and thrown left it on her balcony. You wanted to suggest that they throw it off, safety hazard as it is, but you doubt he, or Mallory would have appreciated that. Either way, you conciously avoid the area, staying to on side of the hall.

You reach her door and Madeleine knocks. After a few tens of seconds later, the door opens. It's Mallory. Her eyes are downcast to the floor but you can see her eyes are red.

"Hey, sorry about that." she says, her voice is scratchy.

"Madeleine. And I think you've already met Robert," says Madeleine after a moment. Mallory nods.

"Mallory, cool to meet you."

You can see the guy over here shoulder. He sit on the bean bag chair, leaning forward with this palms to his eyes and finger through his hair- as if he were frustrated with some detail of his life.

"So...you want to come in?"

"Sure," says Madeleine after a moment. And you walk in awkwardly with your machete in hand.

Time passes: Madeleine stays quiet most of the time, you apologize for mutilating what turned out to be her longtime bestfriend's corpse, the guy from earlier doesnt even move, and awkward silence passes.

You guys wanted to team-up with the residents of the building. How do you convince them to join you, these two or just Mallory specifically?

>USE WORDS! You can do this!
>Stare at her until she feels so uncomfortable that she begins to read your mind.
>Can we just be normal for once? (no we can't)
>Don't ask to team-up.
>Write in

Roll 1d50
>>
>>446840
Should probably link chapter 1.

>>439957
>>
>>448702
Just ask them when their going to leave, have a long pause, then back track like the autist we are and say a just want to know their plans.
>>
Rolled 38 (1d50)

>>448702
Ask them if they wanna work together to (hopefully) get through this shit. Its gonna take a lot of work to survive, and the more hands the better.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d50)

>>448702
YELL Dovakiin like the autistic we are. But ask to team up
>>
>>448754
>>448779
>>448788

Come on, anons, make that third roll a good roll.
>>
Rolled 24 (1d50)

Ask them if they want to work together.

Heavily imply that we are making this building our base of operations no matter what they choose.
>>
>>448779
>>448788
>>448863

We need to work together. It'll be harder to ride this shitfest if we're alone. Maybe impossible. It's definitely impossible for you. You need help. You do. You need to ask. Yes. But how? Words. Words? Yes. You can do it. You can. You definitely ca-

"DOVAHKHIIN!" you shout, your eyeballs sperging in your sockets.

Everyone jumps in their skin and looks to you, even the dude, his face now out of his hands. Their faces are filled with utter confusion and their bodies are leaned back. Okay, great, all apart of the plan. Now that you've got their attention, everyones attention, you need to speak...what were we going to say again? Oh right, team up. Okay...shit this is hard. How do we do this? Words...okay, words. Words again. We need to use words. You can do this, Robert. You went 3 days in a row keyboard smashing to climb the PvP ladder once. You can do this. One. Word. At. A. Time.

"Uh...hi."

Nailed it.

"Hi?" Mallory replies, unsure. Everyone still looks at you, albeit questioningly. But you still have their attention.

"Uh...well...I was thinking that we could all team up. If...you know...you want to survive too. The more hands, the better." Madeleine slowly turns to Mallory and the guy, eyes still on you, and nods in agreement.

"Uh...I don't know..." says Mallory, glancing over to her friend. He says or gestures nothing. "Actually, sure, you got a plan?' asks Mallory. The guy just looks at you. No doubt still doubtful of you. His eyes flick to your machete.

"Well...we just stick together. Either way, I want to make this building as safe as possible, no matter if we work together or not. But first, we should try and get more people. Meet other survivors in our building." You look at Madeleine. You wondering if you should mention the blanket on the roof. But she makes the decision for you.

"We saw an S.O.S. hanging from the balcony of another building a block across," she says.

"From the window?" says the guy, finally speaking.

"The..." Madeleine's eyes flick to you. "Roof."

"You got past the alarm?" asks Mallory. "We used to chill up there before they installed the alarm."

"Yes, Robert used his machete," says Madeleine, nodding to the blade.

"And where'd you get that?" asks the guy.

>Reveal your equipment and supply run
>Reveal only equipment run (roll 1d50 for deception)
>Avoid the question
>Change the subject (roll 1d50 for verbal wit/subtlety)
>write in
>>
>>448904
Straight up tell them you took it from a store when you heard the news of all this shit going down.
They can call the cops if the want.
>>
>>448918
This
>>
>>448918
Sassy.
>>
>>448918
trust doesn't come from keeping secrets
>>
>>448918
this but leave out the gun
>>
>>448935
Ja mein nigga
>>
Rolled 36 (1d50)

>>448904
i went to a sports supply store while running from the hoard...got these new hikers too, new bag,etc.
shoulda grabbed a bike and a crowbar and a hatchet and a first aid kit....but i was kinda freaking out at the time...(no lies, just a distracting truth) remind them , there will undoubtedly be opportunities to rearm in the coming days. if there that envious.
>>
>>448955
also hi op,. im back.
>>
>>448960
you're black?
>>
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>>448991
>>
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>>448991
...no? im Canadian, white, mid twenties, work in railroad. how about you?
>>
>>448960
Hey, man.
>>448991
He's Larry.
>>448918
>>448930
>>448935
>>448955

"I took in from a sporting goods store when I saw new of what was happening," you say. " I was in a panick and stuff...they were close."

"You mean you stole it?"

"You can call the cops if you want." He stares at you for a moment.

"As long as you dont kill us with that too."

"Hey, come on Rawan. He...had no choice. J-Jenn wasn't herself anymore," she says, choking back on her friend's name.

"Fine, whatever," he says in a grimace. He turns to you. "I still don't trust you but prove me wrong. Name's Rawan."

"Uh...Dovah- Robert. It's Robert."

"Yeah, so we check everyone out?"

"Yes," says Madeleine.

"Cool, then let's get going."

The four of you get up and walk out. You notice Rawan chooses to walk behind you.

Still doesn't trust me. And all I did was kill his dead friend.

The four of you decide for your floor again, making sure to avoid the old lady's apartment.

Roll 1d50 for success in getting people's ass out of their apartments if they're there.
>>
Rolled 17 (1d50)

>>449034
Little pig little pig let me in
>>
Rolled 22 (1d50)

>>
Rolled 17 (1d50)

>>449034
>>
Rolled 6 (1d50)

>>449034
first, turn , lightly toss machete at rawans feet( that is proper knife practice etiquette) and tell him plainly to his face, "here, you hold on to this. you dont need to trust me, frankly i wouldnt either. But trust that i want to keep fighting to survive...as long as you feel like living too? lend me a hand and watch my back."
serious power move.
(note: dont let him see you sweating ....)
>>
>>449054
>>449058
>>449059
Looks like we're on our own.
If these people aren't opening their doors, we better not see them walking about all sneeki breeki like later.
>>
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>>449063
>serious power move
>6
>>
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>>449078
>>449063
>>
Rolled 42 (1d50)

>>449034
Yell, Halla back now
>>
Rolled 14 (1d50)

>>449034
I don't think we should do any of the talking. We sulk in the back, out of sight, while the normies talk it out. Anything gets violent, we step in and take care of it.
>>
>>449063
hahahaahahah pls no
>>
>>449054
Damn, you anons are active. Let's get a consensus and I'll write.
>>
>>449114
what consensus, we all want to go room by room...i said do talking as well.
>>
>>449124
Sorry, multitasking and forgot what my prompt was. Lazy QM will start writing.
>>
>>449129
stop having a life op...family and friends are dead now...
>>
OP apologizes for being a turd. Also, do you guys prefer for me to give you options like
>Say hello to the OP
Or just end the enttry without any choices and imply a prompt?

>>449054
>>449058
>>449059
>>449059
>>449063
>>449068
>>449086
>>449091

The four of you knock at doors and talk through doors. But to no avail, you get not respondents.

"What's up with these people?" says Mallory.

"They're scared. And they don't trust us, I think," explains Madeleine.

"It could also just be that no one's in," adds Rawan. But you swear you heard noise in two of the doors earlier.

Did they leave when we were at the roof or something?

"We should just move on to the other floors then," says Mallory.

You all agree and enter the stairway. But Mallory holds her hand up for silence. Pause. You hear it.

Voices.
>>
>>449150
>>449150
Sneaky time. Let's easdrop first
>>
>>449155
This. Everyone stfu
>>
>>449155
>>449157
Roll a 1d50 for stealth, my boys
>>
Rolled 27 (1d50)

>>449159
>>
Rolled 8 (1d50)

>>449159
>>
Rolled 50 (1d50)

>>
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>>449173
So we a get ninja trait lol
>>
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>>449159
*this is an infiltration mission, snake!*
>>
>>449173
Someone give this dude a cookie

You want this thing where you you automatically succeed when someone rolls a crit success (50 in a 1d50)
>>
>>449199
if that is a question then yes?
>>
>>449199
I'm the NotBlackGuy from yesterday
>>
>>449211
The hoser guy who doesnt like lolis?
>>449205
That is indeed a question. Sorry for not including a question mark at the end.
>>
>>449227
Ain't no hoser, and yea
>>
>>449234
welcome back.
>>
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>>449234
Sorry, wasn't calling you hoser.
>>444176
I also remember your preference.

But welcome back, man
>>
>>449165
>>449168
>>449173

Knowledge is power. Time to get some information.

You gesture to the group to stay, handing Rawan the machete.

Trust me now, smart ass?

You creepy away from the door and slowly crawl down the stairs. You remember living in a house as a kid- with your parents. You would often sneak down the stairs for a cookie or two at night. You learned the hard way that the very edge of the steps are the ones that are the least likely to make noise. Of course the steps here aren't wood, but moving from ledge to ledge will nonetheless still be swifter as well as quiet. And so you do.

You pass the door to the 5th floor and keep going. As you get closer, you begin to hear what sounded like unintelligeble whispers seconds ago now form words. And then sentences.

"...people aren't answering their doors, Gerald. Wise choices aren't always those that are welcomed with open arms. Too many people, too many ideas, too many disagreements that'll lead to problems we wouldn't have to deal with otherwise."

"Sam, the more friends we have, the less enemies we have. Safety in numbers, right?"

"Gerald, you're naive." A pause.

"But we've been friends for a long time. I'll follow. For now."

"Thank you, Sam. Let's go check out the 4th floor."

Shit.

You hear their footstep begin to gradually approach. They'll see you if you stay where you are. But maybe you don't have to hide. They don't sound bad.
>>
Done for the day- time for my nightly activities. I'll catch you guys tommorrow, about 17 hours from now. Thanks for being awesome.
>>
>>449300
Retreat to the group and get them to hide nearby so we can seem alone.
>>
>>449300
put the ball in there court. quickly call out, " hello , is someone there?" and stand up. do this before they see you. if there friendly they'll call out, if not they'll hide, etc.
>>
>>449315
night, man. (its only 630 here...?)
>>
>>449300

>>449322
Seconding this
>>
Rolled 42 (1d50)

>>449300
pretend to be doing the same thing(because we are) and ct like we weret just totlly ease dropping
>"Oh hey are you guys trying to team up with thefucking DOVAHKIIN and his merry men and women?"
>>
Rolled 43 (1d50)

>>449522
>>449300
Best plan is best
>>
Rolled 22 (1d50)

Best plan
>>
Rolled 40 (1d50)

Try to link up with these mildy paranoid (like us) people, after all we are DOVAHKIN
>>
>>449522
>merry man
>>
>>449327
I'm 2 hours ahead; we're in different time zones.

Daddy's back. Give me some time and I'll start writing. First post of the day is the hardest.
>>
>>449316
>>449322
>>449522
>>449630
>>449918
>>450040

You hear their footstep begin to gradually approach. They'll see you if you stay where you are. But maybe you don't have to hide. They don't sound particularly bad.

Looks like we have the same goals. That makes us allies, right?

You pop up from your hiding spot and yell loud and clear, half to seem as conspicious as possible, half to alert Madeleine, Mallory, and Rawan, all of whom you presume are still at the 6th floor's flight, that you've made contact:

"HALLO! Are you guys trying to team up with the-fucking-DOVAHKIIN and his merry man and women?"

Two men, both looking in their late 20s or early 30s, snap their head towards you. The first looks surpised while the other one only stares at you, but only for a second. The first man recovers and extends his hand in greeting.

"Uh, hey, Im Gerald. Nice to meet you." He must be the one that wants recruit people. You look to the other guy. And he must be "Sam".

But the man is odd. Unlike this man Gerald, he isn't so outwardly recieving. But he isn't hostile or suspicious as far as you can tell. He just...stands there. His lip gliding between a smile and a frown and his eyes welcoming yet cold. He gives nothing away. But even then, you can feel him probing you, your mind and body: your secrets, your lies, your likes, what makes you Robert Susan. He betrays nothing and gains everything.

You'll have to watch out for him.

You look back to Gerald's outstretched hand and back to his face. He has an assuring smile and eyes that harbor just a twinkle of something...hope. It's hope.

His lips press together a little and he cocks his head, almost inperceptibly, almost like he's concerned. You haven't reacted to his hand yet.
>>
>>451767
shake his hand and welcome him to the crew and continue sweeping floors
>>
>>451767
also the first time i actually got in the thread on time :)
>>
>>451767
go for the fist bump
>>
>>451792
The only time 4chan gives you tears
>>451809
Don't want them touching our dirty-cheeto fingers.
>>
>>451809
actually this i forget how awkward we are sometimes
>>
File: Spoiler Image (41 KB, 349x445)
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ANGELS SING AS WE DO A FIST BUMP OF G9LDY POPORTIONS
>>
>>451792
>>451809
>>451820
>>451828

You start extend your hand when you think better. You're a NEET. You don't have to abide by society's standards! Your flat hand clenches into a fist and collides with his knuckles in a legendary symphony of angels versus demons, God versus the Devil, DOVAHKIIN VERSUS THE DRAGON.

But that's all in your head.

"Uh...hi, my name is Robert."

"This is Samuel," says Gerald, accepting your bump and gesturing to the other man. Samuel only smiles in response.

"We're going around the building trying to coordinate everyone after the...you know. Our goal is to work together to keep ourselves and the building as safe as possible. If we're going to survive, we need to do it together." From the corner of your eye, you see Madeleine, Mallory, and Rawan at the top of the stairs, slowly creeping down and out of sight from Gerald or Sam.
>>
Am I the only one who doesn't like how autistic this is getting?
I get that he is a NEET but stop trying to make him into a fucking meme machine.
>>
>>451883
No problem. I have no idea how to write like a NEET so I thought I should have him think like someone who was selectively exposed to fictional heroes of steel and magic and now needs courage from said fictional heroes to keep his sanity and make sound decisions in a zombie apocalypse. You have any suggestions or just hold back on it or cut completely?
>>
Rolled 41 (1d50)

>>451883
sorry man if you have a suggestion just make them and togeher we can all become a little less autistic

but lets start clearing the building with these guys ill roll for success prematurelly becuase i have to shower and shit

>i saw we take our new friends and fortify the lobby maybe make a few diferent levels of defense and shit ya know?
>>
>>451874
Ask them if they can help go door to door talking to people, and looking out for suicides.
>>
>>451874
Ask what they have on them so you can take inventory.
>>
I mean, an actual NEET would probably just base his entire world knowledge on games and series.

As in, a zombie apocalypse! Oh no! Better fill my bath up before the water cuts out! They did that in show X!
>>
>>451946
There're a lot of holes and problems with doing that (which is why I didnt) but I'll try my best.
>>
>>451946
I fail to understand what your saying.
>>
Eh, you can keep going with what you were doing if you want, not my quest.
You are doing all the writing.
>>
>>451946
why wouldn't you just break into all the rooms and fill up all their baths you'd be set for a month or 2
>>
>>452058
Like I said, I'll try my best. Dovahkiin isnt apart of the plot (sorry Dovahkiin). I can ease up of the autism though, If you want.
>>
>>452058

Absolutely nothing here is planned. I just shit words out of whatever my imagination looks like. But I DO want this to be something more dark. If the autism is killing it, I'll try not to may it so prominent.
>>
>>451902
>>451934
>>451939

"W-we were actually doing the same thing." You turn your head to your group. They stop and stand back straight, walking normally down the stairs.

Gerald lights up in a smile. "That's great!"

"This is um..."

"Madeleine."

"And th-"

"Mallory."

"A-"

"Rawan."

"Uh...yeah."

This is a lot of people to be talking to.

"We were trying to get people together," starts Madeleine.

"So we can actually survive this shitstorm, you know? We just finished up the sixth floor," adds Mallory.

"Or tried too," corrects Rawan, looking to Samuel. He just bounces his eyebrows back, absolutely ignoring the fact that the an has a machete in his hand. It's then that you notice that Rawan and Madeliene don't actually trust the two men.

Gerald looks to Samuel with a smile and turns back to you and your group.

"That's great! We're actually on the 3rd floor. Well, Samuel lives on the 6th and I was just visiting, but we've gathered some people up too."

Maybe he was one of the people inside the apartments I heard noise from?

"We do too," says Mallory, grinning.

"We can work together, I think. We have the same goals," you say. "We can split the floors and go from door to door, checking for survivors and...", you look to Madeleine.

"Suicide victims," she finishes, the words send ripples of grief across her face. But it disappears before anyone else takes notice.

"Right...we already found two," states Samuel. Gerald's face twists into a grimace.

"So do you have supplies to last you guys a while?" you ask.

"We have to leave sooner or later," says Rawan. "But it's be cool to have some time to make that decision."

"Good news: we have quite a bit actually. A few of us got our cars and got as much as we could," says Gerald.

"Five days if we ration with the people we already have. Less if we get more," says Samuel. He looks to Gerald as he says this. Gerald scowls disapprovingly back.

"Don't worry about it too much. We'll survive if we have each other's back. How else have humans survived this long."

By holing ourselves in our rooms, playing games and watching anime all day. You silently patronize yourself. But what could you do? You're just Robert.

"Well we were just about to get to the 4th floor. We got the floors below. Not everyone has answered but with who we got, we made a little meeting room on the 3rd floor. But let's finish the rest first and we'll introduce you four. We do the 4th, you four do the 5th?"

"Sounds good," says Mallory. Rawan shrugs.

Roll 1d50.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d50)

>>452137
>>
Rolled 48 (1d50)

>>452137
come on lucky number 2
>>
Rolled 4 (1d50)

>>
>>452140
>>452142
>>452147


Buildings are usually quiet. Floors hold apartments and tenants rent these apartments. Then it's each to one's own. No one bothers the other person and the other person doesn't bother that person. But you never really realize how quiet it is until you're on a floor you don't live on- belong on. It's almost eerie.

You've never been to the 5th floor before. In fact, being on it feels like foreign territory-the uncharted region in the blank of a map. You arent familiar with the particular rust on the walls or the unique glimmer of each doorknob suited on each door. Or the alien homes beyond those doors, homes that harbor strangers, people you dont know- probably never seen. Behind which door is a potential ally? Beyond which door lies danger? Which leads to those who would be willing to kill other human beings- you- for a chance at survival? Who would have already turned? Who would be awaiting your arrival regardless?

Who would be looking through the eyehole? Waiting. Watching.

You try to shake off your doubts. The first door.

"Uh- hey," Madeleine calls.

You turn to the direction of her gaze. An open door. Wide open.

"Someone getting too desperate for friends?" remarks Rawan, a brow raised. Mallory snickers. You dont really socialize all that much these days, but you know sarcasm when you hear it.
>>
>>452217
Lead the way Rawan, your the one with my fucking machete.
>>
OP going to nap. Nap is good. Nap is rest. Maybe Ill be back in an hour if not two.
>>
>>452233
lol just woke up from one
>>452230
second this guy
>>
Back up. Is my writing getting worse? I feel it's getting worse.
>>
>>452230
>>452233

It's almost common sense not go in. What cliche bullshit is this?

"Lead the way Rawan, you're the one with the machete," you say.

"Huh, I wonder who gave that to me?"

Rawan takes the front as you approach the door. The meager lighting of the hallway offers little to burn away the darkness beyond the door. Further in, shapes swirl and figures form to the whim of your fears. And your hand drifts to your back pocket, to where your knife is.

"Hope you guys aren't scared of the dark," jokes Mallory. But no one responds. No one is actually ever scared of the dark- only the things that lurk in its cover.

And you plunge into that darkness.

I takes time for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. But when your eyes come to it, you begin to see outlines of shapes and shades of darkness. Like a black and white film but without the white and exponentially darker. None of which helps. It only spurs your imagination. Is that coat a looming figure? No. No it isn't. But your mind doesn't listen.

You here a soft click.

"Shit, forgot the electricity is down," whispers Rawan. So is the sun. You have no solace.

The four of you continue slowly, trying not to make any noise, taking time to feel out your surface and what's after. In your limited vision, you can make out that the shoes near the door are all over the place. Near, two coat lay sprawled on the ground, as in thrown or dropped.

Maybe someone was in a rush to get out?

You hear a soft thud and stumble stopped short.

"Crap, sorry," whispers Madeleine.

As you move deeper, you begin to flesh out the perimeter of the apartment. It isn't a studio like yours, for one. It has a small hall after a larger room, presumably the living room, that probably leads to a bedroom. But you also see a rectangular opening on another. A kitchen?

>Try to search here, the living room first.
>Go further, to what you think is the bedroom.
>To what you think is the kitchen.
>Back off, we don't need this shit.
>>
>>452555
Forgot to add
>Write in
Also, roll 1d50 no matter what you choose.
>>
OP will start very early tommorrow. Im a lot more free on weekdays. Right now, I'll stop here. Night activities calling. Submit your answers and whatnot. Ill start again in about 9 hours.
>>
Oh right, here's the first chapter. I forgot to add it to the opening post.
>>439957
>>
>>452539
whaaaat? you're crazy its all in your head
>>
>>452555
>>Back off, we don't need this shit.
"I almost forgot, lets go back to the doorway and call out to see if anything comes rushing out of the darkness."
>>
Rolled 15 (1d50)

>>452658
>>452555
its still very gud writing
>>
>>452555
tell rowan to lead the way into the bedroom cause if still cant see people then there is a good chance they're in the bedroom
>>
>>452724
im sorry "bedroom"
>>
>>452555
This is kinda stupid to do in the dark.

Do we have any candles or torches? We defs should have picked up a torch in our trip to the survival store. Let's go grab that and come back while the others watch the entrance.
>>
>>453197
Who the fuck uses a torch in the modern age
Use a flashlight you savage
>>
>>453358
Torch = flashlight

Fucking Americans. Lrn2english
>>
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>>453637
First google result :^)
>>
DADDY'S BACK.

>>452646
>>452662
Thanks, man. I probably am crazy.

>>453197
1. Choices anons make matter
2. Anons didn't pick up flashlight
3. Anons chose to go in the dark
4. Anons do not want to go through a horde of zombies to pick up a small little object that emits artficial light,
>>
Rolled 49 (1d50)

Check my rolling game
>>
>>452662
>>452658

"We don't need to do this in the dark," you whisper.

"Oh yeah?" replies Rawan.

You look around to find him, making a mental note to never walk around in the dark with someone who wears all black.

"Let's go back to the door and call out for anyone or anything that might be here."

And then hope nothing comes out.

"It's a good idea," whispers Madeleine. "We're not thieves."

You begin to turn for the only source of light in any direction- a literal spin on the light an the end of a tunnel. But as you twist your body and to head for the door, your feet interlocks with someone elses and you trip forward, stopping in front of your face just in time with the heel of your hands. But not in time to not make an audible "thud" that rings through the air like an alarm to all that lurks and lives in the dark. All of your freeze. Listening.

Fucking shit

Your ears tense for any sound of movement in or beyond the room. And much to your fears, you hear a long, audible creak of a door. But no sound that follows. Your body screams to run but no one moves. Not yet.

>Stay still and don't make any noise
>Run for thine ass
>Write in

Roll 1d50
>>
Rolled 8 (1d50)

RUN
>>
Rolled 18 (1d50)

>>453799
Throw something at a spot far away from everyone else.
>>
>>453868
>>453869
Waiting for a third roll
>>
Rolled 26 (1d50)

>>453893
Roll?
>>
>>453894
By another player. And it would be nice if you guys came to a consensus on what to do.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d50)

Cheese it
>>
>>453868
>>453869
>>453902

You rather like your ass.

"RUN!" you shout.

Everyone bolts for the door, but the darkness causes you all to end up tumbling over one another in a tangle of limbs and bodies. You briefly wonder if anyone has a machete through them at the moment when you hear a snarl. You whip your head back, mind screaming and skin tingling with fear, when you see a black figure descend on someone. A scream rips through the room.

Mallory.

"Fuck! Mal!"

Curses fill the room and you turn to Rawan. He looks to be running his hands across the floor- he must have dropped the machete. You look back to where you heard the scream. A figure pushes towards another on the ground. You can't see too well in the dark, but you can see well enough to catch the light of Mallory's blonde hair. She's on the ground. You don't see Madeleine, however.
>>
>>453913
Kill the figure who's attacking us, we're the hero of this story! Stab it!
>>
>>453913
>>453928

Crap, sorry. Roll 1d50.
>>
Rolled 50 (1d50)

>>453940
>>453940
>>453940
>>453940
>>
Rolled 21 (1d50)

>>453940


>>453948
Noice.
>>
>>453948
We're unable to form sensible sentences, but we sure can stab people in the eye... people should feel more comfortable around us, really. :)
>>
>>453928
>>453948
>>453949
>>454046

You aren't the most suave guy on the block but you have have a knife.

It's chaos. Rawan flies across the ground, sweeping for a lost weapon. Mallory lays pinned to the ground, struggling with her life and swearing at the top of her lungs. Madeleine is gone. And the figure atop Mallory seems to be very interested in her, wailing with violent intensity.

Your mind is muddled with thoughts and doubts. But in the mess, an idea surfaces.

You have a knife.

In an almost manic desperation, your hand flings to your back pocket and comes up with your knife. In a fit of blind faith and fury, you yell "LEROY JENKINS" and tackle the figure, driving your knife deep into its gut.

The two of you tumble across the floor and you come to find yourself just below the figure. Stringy black hair tickles your face and your nose fills with the stench of rot. Here, you can see the figure's face. It's face. Pale blue skin hangs plastered from the skull, as if it were a mask. You see a dark gap, a chunk of missing flesh from the neck of what you assume was once a woman. The wound is gruesome, messy and brutishly churned as if slowly dug out by a spoon. You almost hurl, tasting bile at the back of your throat.

A zombie.

It roars at you and you immediately throw your knife hand up, nailing it through the temple and eyes. It drops just beside your head, on your shoulder, and you frantically push it away. You're going to need a long-ass shower.

You turn to see Mallory and Rawan rushing over, machete in hand. Its silver sheen winks at you.

"Shit, you okay? What the fuck was that?" asks Mallory.

You don't even answer. Your body is trembling with nervous energy and your lips are sealed shut, for fear that you would otherwise vomit on the spot.

"Was this was Jenn turned into?" asks Rawan. You only nod.

You look around for Madeleine when you jump with a start. A figure stands by the kitchen entrance, a figure that you had almost mistaken for another dead if not for the outline of her fro. Mallory and Rawan look to where you do and see her too. They help you up and the three of you approach her, carefully manuevering the room.

She doesn't respond when the three of you are behind her. She just stands there, head pointing down. The three of you look at her and you notice she's actually trembling.

"Mad?" asks Mallory in a hushed whisper.

She points to a cupboard.
>>
>>454115
Noone is bitten? And how can they see in the dark now, moonlight?
>>
>>454147
It isn't pitch black, man. Windows and the sky's stars and moon. The give sufficient light to see outline, figures, and shades of black- though not really black. You distinguish in color but just barely. And no, no one is bitten.
>>453948
Thank Merry Man
>>
>>454115
And the cupboard... is bloody with claw marks? Someone is in there?
>>454158
Would hate to lose members of our crew, good dice rolls :).
>>
>>454115
Should we take back the machete, the dude seems useless with it? Or is it better to keep him feeling armed (he doesn't seem to fully trust us yet)?
>>
>>454199
>>454200
Discuss this with your fellow anons :)
Im just the QM.
>>
>>454200
take the machete, if dude pussies out just call him on it, and say something along the lines of "Either man up and chop the fuckin things head off, or gimme the goddamn machete."
>>
>>454208
We can rob the place, find food, big knifes (to arm our group with), batteries and maybe a flashlight (for the next dark apartment to search)?
>>
what's with the cupboard tho
>>
>>454222
I'm no expert on zombies in this system, but generally blunt objects are better for caving skulls in, and a lot more people are familiar with a baseball bat than using a kitchen knife to stab people.
>>
>>454228
Keep in mind that, despite what the games and movies tell you, smashing something with a blunt object is loud. Especially a baseball bat - you'll hear the crack from across the street, easily.
Bladed weapons will be far quieter than blunt weapons, and they'll pierce a skull with a lot less force than blunt.
>>
>>454236
>lot less force
Only when sharpened often thought, right? (blade vs bone, takes the edge off)

>>454228
>baseball
We need both, I believe - against human competitors and zombie enemies.
>>
>>454240
Nope, just a lot less force.
Let's say you swing a bat with ten pounds of force, and you swing a machete with ten pounds of force.
The bat will distribute that force over a wider surface area than the machete, which will be constrained to the edge.
Even if the machete is dull, it's going to go deeper into the skull than the bat would.

It's all about the surface area.

And hey, with a piercing weapon, you have something that generally doesn't really need sharpened, goes through a skull easily, and is arguably quieter than a machete. Spears master race
>>
>>454227
Are you guys going to open the cupboard or like what?
>>
>>454267
Sure, we open the cupboard and look for survivors.
>>
>>454267
let's put our ear up to it and see if we hear anything. If we do hear something, get the fuck out of the room, if we don't open carefully to see whats inside.
>>
>>454208
Dude, we're a NEET. Are our balls big enough to be saying that?
>>454273
>>454274
Writing
>>
>>454285
We should stutter while saying it, or get some of the words mixed up.
>>
>>454208
>>454273
>>454274
>>454292

The cupboard door is cracked open.

"Hey, Rawan?" you whisper, almost inaudibly. Irritation and anger bubbles in you. The fucker had the nerve to doubt you all this time even though you technically did save him from his own friend and then, when you give him your best melee weapon, he drops it and can't even get a fucking hit in? He couldn't even fucking make the slightest difference?

"Chop some fo-fucking heads or give m-me the g-goddamn machete." He grab the machete from his hands.

You approach, crouched and slowly creeping to the cupboard on the balls of your feet. Your heart still races from the last encounter but your mind is numb with adreneline and anger. You wonder if you would be doing this if it weren't. You attempt to manuever around the door to get a look inside the crack but you get nothing- too dark and the opening is too small. You return to the other side and press your ears close in an attempt to listen for noise. But, again, you get nothing. It's futile. Your heart thrums too hard in your chest and your ears buzz with loud energy. You take a few careful steps back and tenderly reach out with your machete, slipping its tip behind the handle. You slowly peel back the door and almost lose your heart. For a moment your nerves erupt, almost causing you to fling the machete aside and run out. You hear yips behind you, voices just caught in throats. But you stop yourself, yourselves. Good thing too. In the cupboard is a small child. Or what remains of one.

Its bib and mouth are awashed with dark stains, and its otherwardly tint of skin tells you that it's a only "living" husk. It gnaws on something, something it holds with its little stained hands...you shut you eyes. You don't need to know. You don't want to know.
>>
>>454394
>What do you do with undead little kid
>What do you do next?
>You want to loot the place?
>>454222
>Write in
>>
Rolled 36 (1d50)

>>454403
just chop the fucker i guess its time too get serious in this quest
no bullshit just chp and dispose off
>>
>>454403
Stab the undead, all of them, purge them from this world!
Then we can loot the place. Flashlights and food are a good way to start...
>>
>>454403
Chop up the kid and dispose of him over the roof and go loot the place.
>>
>>454425
>>454427
>>454440
Savage.
>>
>>454452
The apocalypse and the collapse of civilisation made us do it! And our childhood!
>>
>>454452
hey man you said you wanted to get heavier with the story dont blame me for hating kids

Escpeciallydead ones
>>
Rolled 40 (1d50)

>>
>>454474
And 4chan. Blame 4chan.
>>
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>>454614
4chan is perfect you slanderous slut
>>
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>>454620
I'm sorry. I can't control my libido.
>>
>>454425
>>454427
>>454440
>>454474

You thrust your arm forward and you feel the machete meet resistance.

Squelch

You hear a low, mourning groan and remove you machete, closing the cupboard shut. You look back to find your group evasive. Madeleine faces another way, Mallory looks at the floor, and Rawan just stares at the cupboard.

But it needed to be done.

"We should get what we can...food and supplies. The family here won't be needing it anymore," you whisper.

"Watch out for more of them," adds Madeleine. Her voice is shaky.

No one disagrees. The four of you get to work and scour the apartment. You find no more bodies- either the husband was out or this was a single mother. But regardless, your search is fruitful. You find a food- fruits and cereal among others, vitamins, juice and milk, a single flashlight, and a first-aid kit.

But it is unsettling. Apocalypse or not, in just one day you've been less than a feet away from death twice and now you're killing children and stealing from their homes. A neccessary evil, perhaps, but where is your humanity? Which is worse? The people willing to throw away their humanity for some chance at survival, as you fear you are becoming, or the dead that have no humanity but only indulges in their morbid gluttony? You were a NEET, for god's sake. You are no zombie slayer, you are no murderer of children, and you are no grave robber. The video games that were your solace for years in your solitude were thrilling, yes. And so it the real thing, to some degree. But only to some. The rest if madness and misery. What's the point of fighting to keep humanity alive if you must throw it away at first?

Hipocrisy.

You look to the window. A sliver of moonlight shimmers through the glass. You walk to it and peak to the world beyond this this room. So much red. So much death.

First your parents. Now your world.

The four of you rally your findings near the door and had dumped the bodies to the sidewalk below. A sickening crunch and splat of two dead bodies echoed through the streets, stirring others to activity. They had surrounded the bodies, curious and probing. But nothing more. The air of cold winter nights stung your face and you moved on.

You meet Gerald and Samuel once more in the stairway, the four of you coming from the roof. You explain to them what happens and they listen with grave expressions. They only nod in the end and tell you it wasn't your fault, any of yours. They return your news with their own, telling you they found a body themself. Wrists freshly slit. Suicide.

[1/2]
>>
>>454683

You meet Gerald and Samuel once more in the stairway, the four of you coming from the roof. You explain to them what happens and they listen with grave expressions. They only nod in the end and tell you it wasn't your fault, any of yours. They return your news with their own, telling you they found a body themself. Wrists freshly slit. Suicide.

"Let's finish the 5th floor together," Gerald offers. You follow and knock on doors, gently goading any possible residents through unfamiliar doors. And it pays off, thankfully. Semblance of hope stirs some, and of all that is dank and good, someone answers. A teenage boy peers out, his chain lock still in place. He is unnerved and shaken, but otherwise interested in your proposal. You presume he is freshly into high school if not in his last year of middle school. His eyes have a tinge of red. His parents must not be home and you understand what he feels at the moment. You are, after all, someone who lost his parents at about same age. He scrunches his eyebrows together, likely an attempt to hide his interest and sorrow.

"What do you want?"

[2/2]
>>
>>454683
>What's the point of fighting to keep humanity alive if you must throw it away at first?
Survival. But not only that, we have plans, big plans. And humane is whatever we say it is. Just think it ten times and it'll become true - something from our parents' self-help guides...
>>454707
>"What do you want?"
"Want to survive the zombie apocalypse together?"
>>
>>454707
Explain the situation as you would to an adult.
Teenagers fucking hate it when you don't treat them like a person who's smart enough to understand.
>>
>>454707
Checking for dead people.
And those on their way.
>>
>>454683
>Gerald and Samuel
Still not sure whether those two even got a group...
>flashlight
Rawan can have it, will make him feel safer.
>The rest if madness and misery.
We can create order where there is chaos, contentment where there is misery. We just have to make the hard choices first to reach that goal.
>>
>>454735
Bit too direct?
>>454725
>Teenagers
True. And he's scared but also lonely. Can't imagine him wanting to stay holed up in the dark...
>>
>>454722
this should try and disarm him by being friendly maybe offer some food or something try to sympathize with him
>>
>>454747
Well thats embarassing. That "if" is supposed to be "is".
>>454722
I shifted from the phsyical existence of "humanity", the human race, to the symbolic representation of the human race- humanity. What I was saying is that we throw away our meaning of humanity to save our race. But then what do we become? Are we still actually humans?
>>454747
Was talking about the life of our NEET. And even if you create order and contentment, madness and misery will always be there. You can only distract yourselves for so long.

Okay, writing.
>>
>>454821
>You can only distract yourselves for so long
A NEET can distract himself for very long, I suppose :).
>Are we still actually humans?
Human+, PostHumans, better than the old!
Madeleine can do the moral thinking for us.
>>
>>454821
cant wait for this quest to progress i like u OP
>>
Fucking shit. So sorry anons. Some crap happened and I couldn't warn you before left. My sincere apologies.
>>
>>455658
ive just been updating this thread for hours

>jk life happens man its cool
>>
>>455694
So sorry. That must've been real crap.
>>455205
Thank you. I think I like your eyes.
>>
>>455694
Writing now.
>>
>>454722
>>454725

"Uh...Robert."

Everyone looks at you. You try to avoid looking at them but you know what they're wondering. You never take initiative in talking. Only now. Of everyone here, you probably understand this boy the best. You owe it to him to at least try and be a bro. And they don't stop you.

"Have y-you seen the news?"

"No. But I saw outside the window. And I heard them. They're like...zombies...right?" You nod.

"Want to survive the zombie apocalypse together? We're uh trying to gather everyone together to survive this...like they always do in the shows and games. It seems to work." The boy narrows his eyes, looking from each person to the next.

"How do I know you're not lying or that you know what you're doing?" he finally asks. You don't say anything for a few seconds.

"I guess you don't...you can only make your own decisions and hope you made the right ones." The boy stares at you for a few seconds and finally nods, satisfied with your answer.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"An apartment on the 3rd floor. You can come back to yours anytime really. It's just a meeting place," says Gerald.

"Okay, cool. But these kind of groups usually infighting and mess up before actually working." he says. Samuel clears his throat and Gerald elbows him. "Hold on." He closes the door and several minutes pass before you returns.

He appears with new clothes, a jacket, and bag. Next to him is a girl, who looks to be about his height and age. She has his jet black hair but probably younger.

"This is my sister Jane. Let's go." Gerald smiles.

"In a moment, we're going to try and call your neighbhors as well." The boy nods.

The four of you knock on remaining door and discover a man with a stripped, collared shirt and slacks. He introduces himself as Amond. You move on.

[1/2]
>>
>>455884

The four of you knock on remaining door and discover a man with a stripped, collared shirt and slacks. He introduces himself as Amond. You move on.

"Well, now to meet everyone else," says Gerald, already leading you down the stairs. You open into the 3rd floor and he leads you to a door down the far end. You can already hear the voices. Gerald pushes the door open and your group enters the apartment.

The first thing that hits you are the many voices- attesting to the presence of many people. Silent whispers raise to overlapping arguments and descend back to nervous silence. Candles line the room, providing a satisfactory degree of luminescense. But immediately, distrust and suspicion find their way into your mind. How many people here are hiding bites in the dark? How many will suddenly attack you and tear your throat from your neck? But you are otherwise thankful for the darkness. This would be your first time in too long where you were in the company of so many people at once- the darkness provides you some cover of relief by a small measure of anonymity. But you still grow with nervousness at the aspect of being judged. Judged for being a NEET. Judged for not meeting expectations. You dig the nail of your thumb into your index finger.

"Everyone! Your attention please!" asks Gerald, his voice smothering the hushed silence and hushing the the smothering arguments. Everyone dies down to silence, eager with pained worry to learn what will become of their lives. "I would first like to thank everyone for cooperating. We're here right now for only one reason: to survive. But to do so, we'll need to work together as effectively and efficiently as possible."

[2/2a] OP is a moron
>>
>>456135

Samuel turns to your group and gestures inwardly to the room. Some people sit in chairs. Others on floors. And the rest stand, aganist the wall or otherwise. You take a rough estimate amounting to a little less than a dozen, excluding your group and the three from the 5th floor. Rawan walks to an open space on a wall and stands. Mallory, Madeleine, and eventually you follow.

"And that's why we're here. As you all know, the dead now walk. And they are dangerous. My primary concern is to secure this building as a safe location. But thereafter, we can begin to muster resources and build some foundation of trust between the residents of this building. So that we may live as best as we possibly can and survive this apocaylpse. Hold your faiths close. But more importantly, hold each other close. If you don't know the person, get to know them. It'll help." Some light applause follows and you hear someone yell a question asking if it would be okay to do so in bed. Someone raises their hand.

"But we'll have to leave sooner or later, right? For food and for water." Nervousness ripples through the room.

"Yes and no," says Samuel. "The few of us can take supply runs and scavenging parties to secure foodstuffs and water if need be in the future. But, as Gerald so tastefully put together, this will only be a succesful effort if it is effectively and efficiently done. And only if we trust one another. We cannot handle both the walking dead and the traitorous living. Migitate the arguments and infighting, and keep an open-mind. If all is well, rest assured that you will not need to leave your homes and me mine. We are all equals as those who want to survive. As an ending note, I implore you to excercise self-control. Do not be a moron, for the obvious reasons." Some murmurs and nods of approval.

"We should reinforce the lobby as our first task," says Gerald, taking over once more. "But it's already night and I'm sure everyone is tired. I think it would be best to start tommorrow morning. Is this acceptable?" You hear a number of agreements.

"Great! Thank you again, everyone, for your cooperation. We'll meet tommorrow, I guess. On the third floor." Voices raise in a confusing cluster of speech as everyone begins to get up and leave the room.

"So what now?" Madeleine asks.

[2/2b]
>>
>>456144

For now I say that we start to organize ourselves. First off I think our floor should stick together as a group, that way we can discuss things outside of the meetings and become a voting bloc, secondly take stock of our supplies and set up some candles and thirdly, exactly what he said, let's get to know eachother
>>
Catch you guys tommorow. Night.
>>
>>456163
I agree with these points.

Maybe let's have our own Floor meeting. The girls are fine with us, but we need to smooth things over with Rawan if we're going to become a true team.
>>
>>456202
ill second this


i definetly eant to secure the obby above all though and maybe we cn agin/ build trust by going out for the first raid to a neihborng buildng or omething of the sort
>>
Set up a night watch for the building. Let the whole group know we need to set up a guard schedule against raiders.
Cement your place. Not as a leader. But as a guy with good ideas.
>>
>>457270
>leader
True, the leader position seems to be already taken by Samuel.

>>456172
Thanks for writing this quest!
>>
>>457270
We need to decide on our philosophical approach to the zombie apocolypse.

Are we trying to save everyone - hero style? Are we a ruthless pragmatist?

The leader position might be filled, but we can still lead our bloc and sway them to think a certain way.
>>
>>457364
Somewhere inbetween those two.
We can't save everyone, too many mouths becomes an unsustainable drain on resources, but we don't need to go out robbing and killing everyone we meet cause we need their shit.
>>
We need to first become stable enough to keep our own people safe and taken care of. Then when we are ready we can even think of letting more outsiders in. Right now build trust and a good foundation for survival and eventually we will ponder in growth
>>
OP is super late and he will give you his left nut as an apology. But first, do you guys want to do an on-the-run type of thing or let's-build-something-for the-future-right-away type of thing? Because right now, it seems like the 2nd but I wanted to mix it up.
>>
>>457320
Oh shit, I was trying to make Gerald the leader guy and Samuel as some smart dude.
>>
>>456163
>>456202
>>456946

"We get some rest," says Mallory. "I'm crashed."

Now that she says it, you notice that you're trembling just a bit. Not from adreneline anymore. Just exhaustion. You look everyone's faces and find worried smiles and sagging faces. The four of you leave last, Madeleine to her apartment, Rawan and Mallory to her's, and you to yours. But you stop yourself.

You haven't really had friends for a while but you understand this is the closest thing at the moment. People working to together towards a mutual goal. A team. But that may not stay alive if things aren't clean. You look to Rawan, already walking away.

"R-Rawan," you call out. He stops and turns.

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk for a minute?" Mallory notices and looks questioningly to Rawan. He nods in assurance, telling her he'll follow shortly. You meet him halfway as he walks back.

"What do you want, man?" He sounds exasperated.
>>
Oh crap, my trip
>>
>>458742
"I... I think we should unite as a floor, but in other meets you should do the talking."
Try to convince him to become the party face.
>>
>already creating an inner circle
Yeah, I'm sure that'll go over well with everyone else when they start feeling like we're looking out for our group, and they just happen to be along for the ride.
>>
>>458742

Look man, I know I am not the best with human interaction but I feel like we should stick together, as a floor at least, that way we can tackle problems as a team and know for certain we have people we can rely on. Not saying that we don't trust the building but it's easier to come to an agreement as a smaller group.

(Picturing this as fast rambling)
>>
>>458860
Apologise for what happened to his friend and for our poor explanation of our current predicament - we're not a very social person.

Then lead into him being the party face, while we're the determined fighter and ideas guys.
>>
Is it getting boring? Should I speed it up a bit in terms of action? Or is this cool?
>>
>>459164
Update after this.
>>
>>459164
this is fine. we need some r&r after baby stabing and the 2 near death experiences we're a fucking neet for chirst sakes
>>
>>459164
It's going fine, don't worry.

There needs to be an even balance between action, social, stealth and moral choices.
>>
>>459164
Good pacing, you're doing excellent work pops.
>>
>>458860
>>458956
>>459122
>>459123

"L-look, I'm really sorry about your friend," you start. "But I really think we got off the wrong foot...uh...so to speak. I'm not the best when it comes to making friends and being with people but I really think we should stick together- as a floor at least." He raises an eyebrow.

"What I'm...I think we should unite as a floor. And I think it would be cool if you could kinda do the talking with other people. Like I said, I'm not good with people." He looks at you for a long while before he speaks.

"It's cool, dude. It wasn't your fault. You're not a murderer. And yeah, you aren't the biggest people person but I get most of what you're saying." He sticks out a fist. "It'll take some time for me but let's have each other's backs, yeah?" He gives you this really awkward half-smile but it makes you happy- just a little. You don't remember the last time someone smiled at you and wasn't stoned.

"Y-yeah, thanks." You bump it and he leaves. There may be some hope with you yet. You smirk to yourself and leave.

You enter you apartment, a place you know as "home" and "comfort", and suddenly the day's work and tires finally overcomes your body. It crashes into you like a winded punch- hard. You let out a shaky sigh as you peel off your boots and silently drift to your bed. Your body is glazed with sweat and you probably smell but you don't care. You've never worked so hard in years and now your muscles and mind protest at the aspect of more.

You don't even get a chance to think of today's events. End of the world, attacked by two zombies, killed them, ransacked an apartment, clusterfuck of mondboggling things you would only do in an apocaylpse. The first would at least entail some thought, right? But no, at this moment, you don't care. The side of your face is pressed aganist your mattress and the your sheets tickle your nose. And at this moment, your whole world seems to be just you and your bed and you just want some god damn sleep.

But you catch a whiff of something from the sheets of your bed...you. It smells like you. The old you. It stirs and relaxes you. You release all the coiled-up, nervous and scared tension from your muscles, your bones stop rattling in their sockets, your toes unfurl. And your lids fall over your eyes like the the dawning curtains at the end of a play. As if to say this is the end of Act I. But also: there are more to come.

And knowing this, you never want to wake up. It's all too much. But you rest for tommorrow, counting the seconds and minutes you have until the sun rises once more and your brief respite from the chaos and nightmare of this reality is swiped away.

And night turns to dawn.

[1/2]
>>
>>459324

You wake up groggy, your body aches, you eyes burn, your mouth tastes like something died in it, and your throat feels like the fucking Sahara Desert. You try to turn over when a sudden blast of pain smacks you awake.

Holy shit!

You release and ungodly groan. Your muscles scream in agony with every twitch of movement and it feels like Hell. But it's no suprise, really. Yesterday was the most excercise you did in years. Or today. It is the next day, right? Right now? You sigh. You're wet. Your back and chest is slick with sweat and your clothes are soaked. You must have had nightmare. No...not a nightmare. You close your eyes for a few more seconds until your own filth becomes too much to bare.

It takes you exactly 3 tries to get out of bed, the third when you promptly land face-first onto the floor. When you finally come to it, you undress yourself, accomapnied with too much pain, effort, and groans, and wipe your body down with a wet towel. It does little to remove the dirty feeling of sticky sweat on your skin but it's the best you can think of at the moment- perserving water and all. You throw on a new clothes, making sure your multi-tool and knife are with you, and re-wear same hoodie you did yesterday. You start to hobble from muscle soreness towards the door but when your face turns grim. You head for the window instead and take a peak. Not a nightmare. With that, you hobble to the door with your keys and an unruly cowlick of hair.

You're pretty sure you're late.

When you reach the third floor, you find a bluster of activity. But it's the smell you notice first. The good, old scent of warm cinnamon wafts through the air and into your nose, seducing your senses. You zero in on the door to the apartment the meeting was held yesterday and your stomach grumbles in response. A few people brustle past your shoulders, heading for the stairway. Doors on the floor are left wife-open and you see a young man, probably only a few years over your age, speaking with Gerald. They both looks serious and the man gestures animatedly with his arms and hand.

>Approach Gerald and the man
>Go into the room. Time for some freaking food. You hadn't even eaten lunch yesterday.
>Go down the stairway. See what's up.
>Write in

[2/2]
>>
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>>459219
>>459227
>>459294
Thank you.

Night, catch you guys tommorrow.
>>
>>459332
>GET FOOD
whens the last time you ate anyways?
>>
>>459332
>Go into the room. Time for some freaking food. You hadn't even eaten lunch yesterday.
Our body hates us already, let's do it one favour.
>>
>>459332
>>Go into the room. Time for some freaking food. You hadn't even eaten lunch yesterday.
Gaze out a window and just watch what the zombie do while you eat.
>>
>>459332
>Go into the room. Time for some freaking food. You hadn't even eaten lunch yesterday.
>>
>>459403
im an idiot ;-;
>>
>>459531
I agree if that makes you happy.
>>459403
>>459429
>>459473
>>459519
Daddy's back. Writing now.
>>
>>459429
>>459473
>>459519

You haven't eaten since the world had gone to shit, which is to say, yesterday. You refuse to deny yourself the simple pleasure of a filled stomach.

You walk into the apartment and you catch all the marks of a warm, kitchen-prepped meal. After years of covenience store purchases, this is a welcome change. And before you realize, you find yourself threading a scent trail to the kitchen, coming to a stop when you see a woman. She looks old, perhaps 50 or so.

"U-uh." The woman turns to you.

"Oh, hello. I was about to clean up- everyone already ate. Hold on, allow me get you some breakfast," the woman says she picks up a clean bowl and begins scooping ladle-spoons of oatmeal. You stare intently at the bowl.

"Sorry, I w-woke up late but did anything happen?"

"Not too much, I would say. Most of us pooled our food together and decided on a soup kitchen system. Everyday, we'll have two meals. Scant, yes, but God knows we don't want to leave anytime soon. Others are working downstairs, trying to secure the building anyway they can. Too much back work for me," she chuckles. "Oh, here's your food. It's a little dry, to conserve water, but I hope you like oatmeal. Have some toast too, fiber is important."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. You can call me Sarah or Ms. Glassman. Nice to meet you."

"T-thank you Ms. Glassman, my name is Robert." She smiles and you excuse yourself to the living room.

Almost immediately, you throw your spoon into your mouth, filling it with the flavor of cinammon. The oatmeal is dry but you find it still sweet enough to make your eyes flutter and you take a second to thank all old ladies in the world. No one else is here and you take the chance to undignifingly devour your bowl. Before you know it, you've finished, and staring anxiously out the window. They're silent when they do not hunt. It scares you because that means you don't know they're coming until they do.

The sight of the dead turns the satisfaction of a filled stomach into a stomach-churning reminder of raw flesh and your apetite is lost. You face twists into a grimace as you force the toast down your throat. You leave your bowl with Ms. Glassman and she smiles. Of course, being awkward as you are, it only occured to you that maybe you should have offered to help after you stepped out into the 3rd floor hall.

You feel a lot better with food in your stomach, if nothing. You look around but Gerald and the other man are no longer in sight. Time to go and help out then?

You have your knife and multi-tool with you.
>>
>>460351
>trying to secure the building
Let's get downstairs and help with securing the entrance. Have we already secured the whole building? Every apartment?
>>
>>460355
We tried to seal the entrance into the stairway from the lobby with some furniture in ch. 1. That's all we know for certain so far.
>>
>>460351
Try organizing a looting party and go to the sporting store. Try to get heavy duty water filters for the tap. Unless they cut off water supply. Then use a lake
>>
>>457270
>>457364
>>457427
>>457472
Pulling these down since they're relevant.

>>460363
Water supply cut. We're in a city. But we have bottles so that isn't bad.
>>
>>460364
Still go to the sport store. They're bound to have good stuff. I would hurry before they get looted
>>
Set up a rain catching system on the rooftop.
What we need:
waterproof material such as tarp
containers

The tarp is to make as broad a surface as possible to catch rain on. The center will purposefully be punctured and the containers placed under such a location.

Even if it's winter currently, getting this shit set up sooner than later is good. You never know when snow will turn into rain, and you don't want to set up mid-rain and lose precious water.
>>
First, I apologize for the slow updates as of late. Something came up yesterday and I'm not really at the right of mind at the moment (no, no one died). I'll try the best I can. I don't want to just throw up shit updates and call it a day.Going to try and write now.
>>
>>460506
I can't do it today, guys. Forgive me. I'll get out of this and I'll swing back tommorrow. Sorry again.
>>
>>460576

You're all good man, take your time, there's no sense in forcing it while you're distracted
>>
>>460576
yeah dude its all good, maybe try setting up a storyboard or timeline i found that helps me write faster and better

good luck with your shit OP
>>
>>460576
It's fine. Im really enjoying this thread. We should make a part 2 after this thread dies.
>>
Father has returned.
>>461693
This is the 2nd. Unless if I'm misinterpreting the synonymity of "part" and "chapter"
>>
>>460355
>>460363
>>460383
>>460487
>>457270
>>457320
>>457364
>>457427
>>457472

The barricade.

Madeleine and you had created a makeshift barrier just in time for the incoming impact of both the living and dead alike. Now it's time to see how that's doing. You remember the few people from before, passing you and heading into the stairway. Perhaps it's related? No, it must be. You enter the stairway and the door shuts behind. You stop breathing.

The stairs are almost pitch black- frighteningly relatable to some forsaken passage to Hell. Candles scarcely illuminate the deep, dark descent at every other step- whispering secrets and casting large, dancing shadows across the grey walls. Enough light to just barely see each step but not enough to light the deep, black corners of the passage. And every flickering shadow, every dark corner tugs at your fear, inducing a nauseous paranoia.Is anyone, anything there? Is what you would like to ask. But you don't speak. You can't. Your voice is caught in your throat and you find yourself paralyzed by the near-darkness. But you know why: if you were to move or speak, you would alert anything that may be hiding in the blanket of dark- waiting, watching, preying. And you would never be able to stop it. They would leap from their visage of darkness and maul your poor, paralyzed body. They would tear into your poor, paralyzed body as you are forced to watch, to feel, and to see without the luxury of a single scream to distract you. So you shut your eyes, banishing the darknesss before you only to be greeted by the darkness behind your eyelids. And then you just breathe, short and strangled, forcibly...calmly...surely. But it's still suffocating. And as soon as your regain control, you burst from the stairway and back onto the third floor. Your nerves are buzzed with heat and you lean aganist the wall for support as you slowly regain composure.

You've never had a reason to fear the dark. Now you do.

"Hey."

You get off the wall and turn. It's only Mallory.

"Oh...hi," you say. She looks tired and groggy. Wearing a slightly oversized black hoodie with the words "Green Day" is white, breakdown font and a hand holding a red grenade.

"You going down too?" You nod.

"Right, let's go then." You follow, thankful for company in the stairway. The two of you enter and once more, you are encased in darkness.

"Holy shit, it's dark," she says.

"Yeah," you say, barely a whisper.

[1/2]
>>
>>462776

The two of your climb down in silence, and you hear murmur of voices further down before long.

"... a risk we don't have to take."

"So what? We just do nothing and hope for the best? We could at least take a peak, know what's going on in our own frigg'in lobby."

"Heya," calls Mallory.

The two of you come to the last flight of stairs, leading to the entrance into the lobby. Several shadows of people barely distinguishable stand on stairs.

"Finally got up, huh?" It's Rawan.

"Shut up, you're not father," replies Mallory.

"We were just talking about how if we should keep the barricade up and reinforce it and remove it to take a peak in the lobby." And that's Gerald. You're pretty sure you see Mallory too. As she's the only person with the fro, and therefore the outline of her head must too.

"To know what we're up aganist. It's our damn lobby, we should at least know what's going on down here," says another voice.

"Honestly, I am pretty curious. And I'm feeling pretty rebellious today," you catch a glimpse of a grin in the faint light.

"You're always feeling rebellious. Get out of puberty already," says Rawan.

"Fight me, punk," says Mallory.

"And you, Robert?" It's Samuel this time."Each has it's own rewards and consequences. Opening the door is a gamble, but if it suceeds, it can get us some valuable information. It also offers us the chance to expand our sphere of control to the lobby."

"But if it doesn't suceed, and they see us, we compromised the safety of the entire building and it's residents," says Gerald.

"Exactly. We'll likely have time to shut the door but they'll attract others with their cries- more. Until they number too much for a single door and some furniture to handle. Think carefully Robert. This is a vote."

>Take a peak.
>Keep closed, fortify.
>Write in

[2/2]
>>
>>461693
To all those that are enjoying this thread, I'm glad to hear. I started this on a whim but I'm enjoying it as well.
>>
>>462777
>>Keep closed, fortify.
If people want to take peaks outside, they can use the fire escape ladders, no? Zombies can't climb ladders, right? Hopefully? Maybe?

First we should scavenge all the resources in the building before trying outside. Maybe the military will come and rescue everyone?
>>
Twitter and the QTG thread are good ways to announce the continuation of a quest...
>>
>>462776
>pitch black
Flashlight! Let there be light!
>Mallory >"Shut up, you're not father,"
So, Mallory and Rawan are siblings?
>>
>>462784
Sorry, noob OP. I'll QTG right now.
>>
>>462785
Nope, best friends. Did you read the first chapter/thread? They lost their third.
>>
>>462784
>>462790
Actually, it'd be cool to make them half-siblings. Rawan is Indian or Bengali or some brown-type of Asian and Mallory is a Caucasian with blonde hair so they're kind of too racially and characteristically incompatible to be direct siblings
>>
>>462796
or their father and mother remarried and brought children into the new marriage, bamn, instant siblings. :)
>>
>>462797
Noiiiice. That solves the age gap problem.
>>
>>462783
Seconding
>>
>>462800
and gives us a second waifu. Win.
>>
"I...sorry, does someone have a flashlight?" You hear a click and a star blazes to life somewhere in your vision. You shut your eyes, already adjusted to the dark. Reflexively, you blink a few times in an attempt to remove the light spots from your vision. You then take the oppurtunity to look around, seeing half a dozen people, all on different steps going down the last flight of stairs. Faces worried, some grim, some riled. You recognize the face of the man talking to Gerald earlier. He's one of the riled ones. Gerald looks the most exhausted, but his eyes glimmer with will and firmness. Samuel has his eyes closed.

"I liked it better when it was dark," says Samuel, muttering to himself. He opens his eyes.

"Thanks, uh I think we should keep it closed. It's too risky."

"Aw come on," goads Mallory. "Live a little."

"That's what he's trying to do!" yells someone.

"Hey, hey, shove it up your a-"

"Okay, children," interrupts Samuel. "At peace. Robert was the tie-br-"

Samuel stops. No one speaks for a few seconds, unsure of how to respond.

"Uh...what?" someone asks.

"Sh," urges Samuel. Seconds more pass and you smell it. The smell of rot.

"Oh..." you hear someone whimper.
>>
>>462818
>smell of rot
Where are the dead ones? Who's got a good nose? Which apartment?
>>
>>462821
Not what I was eluding to. We are currently in the stairway of a 6-story apartment building. Lets say we also have a basement only accessible by a backdoor from outside or the elevator- so 7 floors total. We are now on the last flight of stairs leading to a door- of which is currently closed and barricaded by a sofa, sofa chair, drawer chest, and a table- through which we can exit to arrive in the lobby-or ground floor. It is dark, poorly lit by candles and now a handy flashlight. Most of us are on the steps of the last flight. Both Mallory and us are on the edge of the platform between flights of stairs, as we just arrived and frankly, there's more space up here. Suddenly, it smells like rot.
>>
>>462827
The Undead are outside! Get more stuff to barricade the entrance!
>>
>>462834
Is is cool with you if I wait an hour or so before updating. I'd like some more reception before continuing. I think what we do here may turn out to be mildly important. Also, Im both curious and interested in others' opinions for this.
>>
>>462847
>more reception
Sure, more players would make this more interesting.
>>
is the rot smell coming from outside (which I presume is after the baricade), is it coming from the lobby (which means the zombies might have been able to break through), or are we not suppost to know?
>>
>>462880
After the barricade is the lobby. We barricaded the entrance into the stairway from inside the stairway so that anyone inside the lobby cant get it and go to other floors. By the way, the elevator is cut. No electricity. Hence, dark stairway. You don't know where the smell is coming from. It could be inside the stairway. It could be outside the stairway, in the lobby. Or it could be seeping stench from the outside that's drifted in. You can roll for perception but Im making the DC pretty high. 1d50, DC 40.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d50)

>>462895
We can always just leave it alone, ignore it and move on. Maybe it's a burst pipe...
>>
>>462902

I'm going to explain how we roll here for those who didnt partake in the 1st chapter. I need either 3 or 5 rolls from different anons. The number of roll that exceed the DC to that of those that dont will determine the success. The ratio, in simple terms. If someone rolls a 1, automatic fail. If somoene rolls a 50, automatic success.
Also:
>>439957
I have no idea how it's still up.
>>
>>462926
cause i think 850 is the post cap
>>
>>462940
Waiting on at least 2 more rolls if you guys want to try and determine the general direction of the smell. Otherwise submit your actions.
>>462940
Or 72 hours, I think. But it's been well over that since inactivity/completion.
>>
>>462940
not post cap, just bump cap - so it's not getting on the first page again, but qst/ being a slowish board, it's going to stay.
>>
Since there isnt ant activity. Op will return in 1-2 hours.
>>
Rolled 27 (1d50)

>>462895
>>
Rolled 48 (1d50)

>>462895
>>
You stop breathing and concentrate on the smell. You wince, it's a foul reminder of your first encounters with the dead. The rotting flesh, hanging limply from musty bones and decaying muscles. The snapping teeth the rancid breathe. A stale and sour incense. You clutch your stomach, prefering to keep your breakfast.

The candles flicker and shadows taunt you. No one moves or makes a noise for what seems like too long until Samuel breaks the silence.

"If it's them, and they can smell. We need to move away. Now." Samuel whispers, almost inaudible. But you catch it. Because to you, it sounds like a scream vying for your demise.

"Slowly," Gerald whispers. "Move up the stairs."

You are Mallory are the farthest. So the two of you begin first, then the rest. Slowly, all of you move further away from the door and barricade, just beginning to ascend up the second flight of stairs. But the stench grows stronger.

Oh no.

You look up into the darkness. If your nose serves you well, the stench doesn't originate from outside the stairway and in the lobby but from the inside. That would mean everyone in the stairway may be in immediate danger.

You have your knife and multi-tool in your pockets.

>The source is in the stairway.
>The source is on the 1st floor.
>The source is on the 2nd floor.
>The source is in the stairway.
>The source is on the 1st floor.
>The source is on the 2nd floor.
>Write in. The primary focus of the prompt is locating the scent, but it would be wise to write in some extra actions that would help you survive. But be aware that actions take up time and whatnot.

NOW I will return in 1-2 hours.
>>
>>463150
>>The source is in the stairway.
We never checked the underground garage! A great number of Undead may have gathered there and is now coming in, through an unlocked door! Rawr!

Run up and barricade the entrance to the first floor! It should hold them for a long time.
>>
>>463150
Lets play some charades.
Pointing the flashlight at our face, turn to the others. First, a finger to the lips to suggest not speaking at all. Point at our nose. Then gesture up the stairs. Point at the nose, then at the barricade, then shake your head.
Anyone who isnt retarded should understand that this means "The smell is here, not out there."
This should be very quick to do. Draw your knife, and make sure the others know they need to draw any weapons they might have too.
Direct the light up the stairs - it's been a day since most of the zeds in our area turned, so eyesight for them should be fairly deteriorated, because of the coagulation.
Ascend as silently as possible, sweeping the light to look for the corpse causing the smell, ready to strike.

A hero must be decisive.
>>
>>463150
>The source is on the 1st floor.
Gods forgive us, we never cleared the floor!
Creep around the corner and begin waiving the flashlight around.
>>
>>463150
oh shit gld to see you bck
i think its cominng fromm one of the floors have everyone move as a unit and get out of the stairwell until we find out where it is
>>
>>463193
Seconding.

Tell the group though, and get them to ready their weapons. Also, get our knife out.
>>
>>463193
Uping this
>>
>>463193
>>463343
>>463470
Roll for autismic (really sure this isnt a word but it sounds glorious) awesomeness. 1d50.
>>
>>463191
Just to be clear, everyone, we do not have the flashlight. Someelse does because no one called claim to it. Another anon, did, however, say that he wanted Rawan to have it.
>>463193
Glad to be back, man.
>>
Rolled 41 (1d50)

>>463573
>>
Rolled 23 (1d50)

>>463573
>>
Rolled 33 (1d50)

>>463874
sheeit nigga get off dem stairs FAST.
Then look for shit in the 1st floor like nice hall tables with flower pots on the to throw at who come up the stairs.
>>
Rolled 18 (1d50)

>>463874
Jesus christ people, you niggers must be retarded to go stampede mode in a situation like this

Good to cull the weak and stupid from our population, at least.
Restrain the obvious zed for team tactics
>>
>>463191
>>463193
>>463343
>>463278

You stop and catch Mallory's arm. You need everyone's attention.

"Hey?" she whispers.

Turning around, you break into a frenzied waving of hands that mangage to make you look like you're having a seizure. But it gets the job done. The person holding the flashlight from earlier, whoever than may be, now has it directly trained on you. You shield your eyes from the beam of light and everyone looks to you with wide and frightened but questioning eyes, faintly reflecting the wispy luminescense of the candles.

Great. Now not to piss myself.

You execute a series of highly complicated and covert gestures signaling that the smell is indeed not from outside the lobby, but from somewhere within the stairway and its adjoining floors at the levels above: you place finger to your lips, point at your nose, gesture up the stairs, point back at your nose, then at the general direction of the barricade, and finally shake your head.

And it gets the job done. Many people look dubious but Gerald takes your word for it, so does Samuel, though you feel more in the aspect of I can't prove you're wrong at the moment so I'll consider it because I don't want to get my face accidentally ripped off.

You remove your knife from your back pocket and wave it towards to a nearby door exiting into the first floor, the shadow from your arm sweeping across your audience. Nods and weapons raise. You noticed one burly man actually carries a toilet plunger. Noice.

Slowly, and cautiously, you approach the 1st floor. Your heart hammers in your chest and you skin tingles for what may come. You turn the knob and enter, everyone follows in suite.

The 1st floor is every bit of alien as the 3rd. Dim light showers you, and although you welcome the vision, it scares you no less. The only difference between here and the darkness of the stairs is that you now get to see your killer. Then you hear the screams

You snap your head from side to side, eyes darting and body crouched low. But no. It isn't from the 1st floor.

No...

You realize with miserable clarity that you were wrong. You turn back into the stairway, knife up to your sides, ready to use. And you plunge back into the darkness. It's chaos. People push out of the stairway and aganist you, desperate to get away from the stairs and onto 1st floor. The stairway is filled with screams and shouts, as you see black figures of friend or foe dart and jostle. You think you see some people fall. But no one helps them, entirely too intent on saving themselves. And tiny embers atop candles dance angrily, as if irate by the disturbance of their peace. The beam from the flashlight flies all over the stairway, giving short glimpses of the chaos that enfolds.

For a moment, you thnk you catch sight of three of four brawling figures. And then you see it, a blue floral gown on a dimunitive stature. You don't ever recall seeing anyone with said dress.

>Write in
Roll 1d50
>>
>>463892
>>463901
Waiting on at least 1 more roll andI'll see if I can write the last post of the day.
>>
>>463940
waaat the fuck is going on op
>>
File: ctrl-x-ctrl-v.jpg (55 KB, 620x734)
55 KB
55 KB JPG
>>463949
I found a typo so I deleted the whole submittion. Sorry.
>>
Alright, see you guys tommorrow. We will become the king of the tommorrow lands as the first NEET zombie slayer.
>>
Rolled 15 (1d50)

>>464003
you should make a new thread and link it homie
gonna roll too
>>
Rolled 1 (1d50)

>>463940
LEEEROOOOOY JEEEENKIIIIINSSSSS
Jump in and just start beating the shit out of anything and everything that doesn't immediately look friendly.
>>
>>464711
dice+1d50
fucking nice roll m8
>>
>>464914
*sigh* i'm inept, help me
>>
Rolled 27 (1d50)

>>464920
Put dice+1d50 into the Options field.
Not a roll since I already did.
>>
>>464974
>>464681
>>464711
Writing
>>
>>465118
Did I kill us/someone?
>>
>>465147
kek

Last post of the thread in a few minutes. Then I'll write again and start a new thread. I'll link it on here (to the suggestion of an anon, thank you).
>>
>>463892
>>463901
>>464681
>>464711
>>464974


A combination of roars, grunts, and snarls fills the stairway. The flashlight is now on the ground and candles flicker wildly, some going out. The figures are all bellow the stairs, the platform between two flights. What would Dovahkiin do? Oh right.

"LEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOY JENKIIIIIIIIIINS!!!"

You charge into the fray, your shadow twisting and stretching with the flickering candles. Your glints dully before you send it down at the figure with the floral dress- damn, this sounds messed up. But you miss, instead nailing someone else in the arm.

You hear a furious roar. And suddenly you're flying towards a wall, your head smacks with a thunk and your lungs are slammed flat. The impact both rattles your skull and knocks the air out of you in one baffling second.

"Dammit, Robert!? Was that you!? Confound you and your knife, you fool!" Oops. You stagger, dazed and in pain. Something hits your head- hard and you fall to the ground, eyes rolling in your sockets. Your mind is muddy and the chaos around you is drowned under the sea- muffled and dull. You hear another scream. Another snarl. Another thwack. A sickening crunch. Then some weak sobbing. Then silence.

Or is that just you?

“Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

-William Shakespeare, Macbeth

___

Sorry, computer was acting up
>>
Chapter III:
>>465293
>>
>>464974
thanks man



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