OPTIONS:
WAKING UP
You wake up in a studio in an apartment building that's got windows all boarded up. You remember being sick, you remember dying, and you probably can't believe this is the afterlife. If you head out into the hall you'll see that others are heading out too, looking just as confused as you are. All of you died, most of you of the same thing. If you head down to the front office, you'll meet a native resident who will explain in brief that you're in Aqora, a settlement living among the undead and that people like you show up every so often. You'll be given an informational pamphlet, a shitty cell phone, and a walkie. Then you'll be expected to figure it out. No one has time to hold your hand.
EXPLORING
Miscellaneous things here: shops and restaurants turned into places to live, apartments full of people living day to day, the main focus (the library) being the hub where people come to learn and children go to school. Because school never ends, even in the apocalypse. Feel free to buddy up with other newcomers to figure out what the hell is going on.
OR, say you've been here a while. It's time to figure out how to get more supplies! Let's go on a supply run. You'll just be heading out past the barricades to start, and you'll have to dig through buildings to try and find things. If you're lucky, maybe you'll hit a cache. If you're unlucky, you'll find too many undead to fight. No one goes out alone though, so hopefully your partner can help.
"NETWORK"
Someone has set up a rudimentary network using the nearest cell towers. You can communicate with others in the area but only via voice and text. Anything further out is voice only via walkies. You can have a username or leave it blank.
Have fun, campers. |
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thebreathing2017-06-15 05:10 pm
no subject
[And there it is. She makes a sound like: hurgleurgle. Tired. So tired. All of a sudden she just wants to nap right here on this pile of crap.]
You got a dumb name. [THAT'S NOT HOW YOU . . .] Jolyne. [can she nap yet]
no subject
Jolyne's stupid too.
[It's not, and he knows it's not, but he can't leave that hanging.]
Maybe you've heard of me? You sound American enough.
no subject
[Which is true. While Florida isn't quite as separate a place as Texas, it's definitely not America as such. Really, though, what she's doing is dodging the question. If she has to deal with the zombie apocalypse, she's not dealing with Joestar bullshit anymore. That's where she draws the fucking line.]
And I know Jolyne's a stupid name. My dad named me after a Dolly fucking Parton song.
no subject
[Johnny frowns, peering closely at a shattered computer screen with somethink akin to wonder, albeit slightly angry wonder. He has a lot to catch up on, it seems like--or, rather, not catch up on. Perhaps a closer phrase is "make amends with". Time won't stop and allow itself to be caught.]
And if you're American, maybe you know me. I'm a jockey.
[God, it feels good to say that in present tense.]
But maybe not, considerin' I don't have the faintest clue as to who Dolly fuckin' Parton is.
no subject
[All alligators are separatists. Known fact. But now she's squinting. How does this guy not know who--]
[And then it hits her.]
You're either from the past or Amish.