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Post by jonathon on Jul 19, 2009 9:26:55 GMT -6
Date: March 23 1924
Time: 1300hrs
Location: Hayloft, The Cannon Stables (Pub Stable)
Weather: Light Shower, 55 Degrees Fahrenheit
War, it made a man or it broke them. Then again some just survived, they were good at that. Although sometimes they survived at the expense of others, like now for instance in this visitation of hell on Earth. At least it had waited until after the war, these demons were not something I'd want to face in the trenches. Still at least this way the battlefield is one I know explicitly this time.
As he drew himself back out of his thoughts, the smell of wet decay hit Jonathan's nose once more and with a sigh he rolled over to look down to the stable floor. For now he had no undead pestering him and those that did he dumped the corpses of in an abandoned meat locker across the road, using a mask he'd fashioned from a piece of an apron he'd found there.
Still with a sigh he rolled back into his bed of hay, his usual clothes off to one side. Although the ladder was also off to one side as well, he'd soon learned that leaving that on the edge invited a few zombies up towards his sleeping form. Smirking a little he wasted little time checking his weapons and getting dressed, it was time to forage. There was a general store not far from here he planned to raid before returning and if he could find a jerry can then he'd be on his way towards turning his hayloft into a base of operation.
Muttering softly as he loaded his pistol with one round in the chamber and a full magazine, he moved the ladder back into place so he could get down. Knowing full well that within minutes he'd be dealing with the undead, but here where they concentrated he believed to be more safe in the long run. After all they'd have to fan out soon and here would become rather quiet and safe, then as he got down to the ground he took the ladder down. Once he'd hidden it in an empty stall, he turned to the chained shut door and began to slide it open just enough for him to squeeze past.
His pistol holstered and his crowbar in hand, after all shooting here could well damn him to death.
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Post by josiah on Jul 19, 2009 17:06:22 GMT -6
GM[/b]
In the dark morning air, many things sounded. It was raining, it was cold, and the streets of London were dangerous at this time. A horde of zombies sat across from the hayloft. They were eating the corpse of a dog. Howls could be heard from afar. The zombies were eagerly eating away. There were six of them. Two were missing an arm, three were in perfect condition, and one had no legs. The Runners were dressed in bloody, torn nurse clothing. The one with no legs was a British police officer.
The last two were dressed in plain clothes, nothing special. The cobblestone streets of Old Town were soaked in blood, both coagulated and fresh. Not many infected were out and about at this time, but this horde had found easy prey on the injured dog. As the zombies finished the dog off, one of the Runners raised his head. He had heard something not far off. She sniffed the air and growled.
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Post by jonathon on Jul 19, 2009 17:30:21 GMT -6
((OOC: It's midday not morning but I like the group, it keeps things interesting and old town is probably a little darker then the rest of town anyway.))
When he began to leave Jonathan froze in the doorway, he'd seen the group. Hopefully he had a while before they saw him, still with a mental curse Jonathan looked around him for something within easy reach to divert their attention with. He could avoid them but the important thing was that they didn't see where he came from, he'd have to leave the door open for a few hours now but there was no helping it. Then with luck Jonathan's eyes settled on an empty can within grabbing distance, so without hesitating he grabbed it.
His focus flicking back to the zombies before he pitched the can as one would a grenade, albeit it with enough force to make his arm sore for a moment. A moment later though it broke a window a little up the road and made a fairly loud thump as it hit something, for a moment Jonathan wondered what it hit.
But then as he caught himself, he moved back into the darkness of the stable. Hoping the zombies would remain silent and try to ambush the source of the sound, he watched the light coming in through the gap. His crowbar ready to smash the skull of anything that tried to come inside. Still the noise hadn't come from here so hopefully they'd move off towards the broken window, giving him enough time to get out and away down an alley. Perhaps if luck favoured him they'd even give him a chance to pull the door closed behind him and not have to deal with another surprise when he returned.
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Post by josiah on Jul 19, 2009 22:14:14 GMT -6
GM[/b]
The zombies suddenly froze. All six of them went screaming and moaning towards the window. The Runners jumped through the window and crawlers stumbled into the window after the rest. Sounds of breaking glass, wood, and a myriad of other horrific sounds resounded from the window. Suddenly, the streets of Old Town London turned into a rampage, undead from alleyways, darkened buildings, and the occasional sewer drain rallied to the sounds that pierced the quiet mid-day.
It was complete chaos.
(OOC: Not a good idea. Tin cans make tons of noise when they strike objects at a high velocity, especially in conjunction with the glass. And the zombies ravaging things doesn't help you either =]. And in conjunction with London being grossly overpopulated with the zeds.)
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Post by jonathon on Jul 20, 2009 9:40:25 GMT -6
A curse began to form on Jonathan's lips however he cut it off before the words formed with it, pushing the door closed under the cover of the noise. At least he didn't have the group to worry about, no now he had every on of the blasted things in Old Town to worry about. Still at least their focus wasn't on him, so for now he'd wait for an opening. But to do that he needed to see outside, so with little time to waste he moved to grab the chain and seal the doors once more.
Then sliding it open just enough to see outside he knelt down behind the door and peered out of the gap, his crowbar returning to his belt even as he unholstered his pistol. Then deciding better he took up his crowbar in his off hand, if they came at him he needed to be ready for them. Although in this part of London if they came at him the best he could do was run like anything, still even as he expected to be overrun he looked around for a repaired part of the stable.
There had to be somewhere that led outside, perhaps a small repair he'd have to force open. He refused to be trapped with the dead around, still he'd caused this and now he had to deal with it. Part of the risk of staying in so deep.
((OOC: Not a good idea but a fun one though, still it'll give me something to think of and I have some ideas. I planned to not be able to return here anyway, given that it's Old Town he'd be forced to give up safe locations all the time just to survive.))
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Post by Nathan Ellis on Jul 20, 2009 9:51:43 GMT -6
GM
The old barn had undoubtedly been here a very good while. The support boards had collected mildew and looked as if they were rotting, the shingle roof had many fist size holes from past damages. Which meant that a it the rest of the buildings around it had been built to it. The western wall behind the stables was made of old whitewashed brick, no doubt the only thing separating the stables from the next building. Searching the work bench in the back of the shed, Johnathan spotted a sledge hammer, perfect for making rubble out of the wall. On further thought though, this would create a good deal of noise.
After another quick search for a way out, Johnathan remembered that the loft was just next to the roof, which was comprised of rotting cedar shingles. It was only a 4 foot reach to it, and would give him a nice quiet escape. However he had no idea if there was a way down from up there.
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Post by jonathon on Jul 20, 2009 12:04:15 GMT -6
A sledgehammer, that could be useful and Jonathan knew it. Grabbing it before fetching the ladder from it's hiding place, quietly he put it back in place. Although by that time the gathered horde had began to batter at the barn doors, with a muttered curse he wasted little time grabbing working the chain free from the sliding door. Then knowing he had only moments until by some chance they got inside Jonathan wasted little time rushing up the ladder, even as he did so he could hear the door buckling and grinding off it's tracks.
The sound of the damned rose to new levels as they saw him, although by the time they rushed him he'd be out of reach. Although no doubt some of them had the memories about them to climb the ladder and as soon as he got clear Jonathan turned, kicking the ladder free of it's rest and watching it fall. His eyes moving from it to the gathered horde that were pouring into the stable, he couldn't help but laugh for a moment then. Sure of his safety for a moment, that is until the entire loft shook as the massed undead began to smash against the supports. Cursing he turned wasting little time in turning the sledgehammer on the roof, smashing himself a way through as the floor below him shuddered with the efforts of the zombies to get him.
As he felt a support give way he gathered his meagre belongings and forced them into his bag, then as he heard another support give way the loft began to tip. Cursing he secured his bag and ran for the hole, grabbing the sledgehammer as he threw himself carefully at the hole. Grabbing the edges as his body passed below it, then hauling himself through the hole he watched the the loft collapse into something close to a ramp he had minutes before the undead piled high enough to make the gap. And by then he planned to risk a jump to another roof or at least to bait enough inside to give him a decent chance of escape.
((Gained 3ft of old chain (not rusty but hardly new either) and a sledgehammer.))
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Post by Nathan Ellis on Aug 4, 2009 14:17:51 GMT -6
GM
On top of the roof, Knight looked around for a way down. There was an alley to the rear of the building, however it was a good two story drop down. Looking over, there was a damaged blaster and brick wall. No doubt if he broke it down with the sledge hammer, it would open into the next building, but there was no telling what would be lying in wait.
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Post by jonathon on Sept 11, 2009 9:53:06 GMT -6
Pondering his course of action Jonathan glanced carefully over the roof, avoiding skylighting himself as he did so. Then with a faint sigh he set about smashing handholds and footholds into the wall before him, he wasn't going inside or down until he was a little further away from that hoard. So shaking his head he heaved the sledgehammer into the wall, praying it wouldn't give way on him as he did so.
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