Hey there everyone! It's been a long time since I made an RP, but here it goes. I know, I normally make little posters/headers for my RP's, but...I don't have printshop installed right now. I lost it when I reformat computer. I will re-install it again sometime, though. Don't know when. Anyway, on with the RP.

The Infection - A deadly virus has spread throughout most of the world. By the year 2012, only two places remained uninfected and a large wall was built around it. The wall was built by the end of 2011, when everyone knew that most of the world was now infected and they wanted to keep the infected out and the survivors in. The two places uninfected were Australia and Asia. Soldiers and law enforcment had the wall heavily guarded. Nothing could get in or out without them knowing. On the inside of the wall, things were now like they used to be. Many people and families living happy lives. But on the outside of the wall, it was complete chaos. Zombies were taking over. When the infection first began in 2009, all the zombies were like the ones you'd see in movies: very slow walkers and they were stupid. As time went on, and more people got infected, by 2012, they became smarter and faster and some began getting different abilities and they began to make names for them selves, some of which were known as the Crawlers, Screechers, and even Vomiters(check the 'The Infection - Complete Creatures List' for more details), and many more. Our story takes place on the outside of the wall...where the zombies roam, and the living fight for survival, as a team or on their own.

Now, for the character creation. NOTE: You can create up to two main characters. Both don't have to be created right away...they can be created as the story progresses when you meet up with them, or whatever.

My Character:

Name: Kevin
Age: 26
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Occupation(Optional): Street Fighter
From: Broken Arrow, OK
Current Location: Brooklyn, NY
Hair Style & Color: Short Hair; Black w/ purple streaks
Eye Color: Purple(contacts)
Starting Outfit: Black tank top, black jeans with the knees ripped, black leather fingerless gloves, black bandana, and black leather vest
Tattoos(Optional): Green and purple snake going around his right arm from his wrist up to his shoulder, silver dagger with a black handle and blood stain on the tip of the blade with a drop of blood coming off of it, and a tattoo of a wolf's head on his chest
Piercings&Jewelry(Optional): Gold lip ring on the right side of his lip, and a silver chain around his neck with a cross pendant and a purple diamond in the center of the cross
Primary Weapon: 12 Guage Shotgun(Flashlight & lazer sight attatchments)
Secondary Weapon: Colt 45(x2)(Flashlight & lazer sight attatchments)
Extra Items: Switchblade, Bottle of whiskey, pack of cigarettes, silver zippo lighter, and a picture of Jennifer(his girlfriend)
Bio: Before the infection, Kevin and his girlfriend Jennifer lived together in Broken Arrow, OK. Kevin was a pro street fighter. He fought for money and respect and never lost one fight, even if the fighter cheated. He fought everyone except for Brock, another tough fighter who never lost one fight. He was a street fighter, and a pro wrestler. Kevin didn't like him and he always wanted the chance to fight him. He thought that Jen liked Brock because of his muscles and strength. Kevin wanted to prove to her that compared to him, Brock was just another wimp. Jen never really did like Brock. Only as a wrestler. But she knew that Kevin could probably win against Brock, but Kevin thought she thought differently. Before Kevin was given the chance, though, the infection had begun, and things got crazy. But that's still not going to stop Kevin from killing Brock, even if it means risking his own life to do so.

Well, that's all. Oh, and as for the rules...

-Simply...HAVE FUN!!

-The Infection-

OOC: I'll let someone else start off...my fingers are getting sore. But if no one else wants to start us off, then just give me a bit and I'll start us off later...I gotta go make the Creatures List thread real quick.

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I hear voices in my head, they council me, they understand, they talk to me!

Maybe I'll join if this gets more attention.

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Lol okay. I may start off the story soon. I keep meaning to but I have a lot of problems to deal with right now. I will soon, though. Don't worry. And hopefully more people will join.

---

I hear voices in my head, they council me, they understand, they talk to me!

Name: Michael Minford   
Age: 30
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Occupation: Ex-Police Officer
From: Belfast, Northern Ireland
Current Location: New York City
Hair Style & Colour: Shoulder Length Hair (In a ponytail), Brown
Eye Colour: Gray
Outfit: White T-Shirt, Urban Camo Jeans, Black Combat Boots and a Black Leather Jacket
Tattoos: Black Serpant running down his back and around his chest, Red and Black Tribal markings from his shoulder to forearm (left arm) and a portrate of a Viking Warrior on his right forearm
Primary Weapon: Long Sword
Secondary Weapon: SMG 10mm (Laser sight)
Extras: Pack of Cigarettes and a Small Clipper Lighter
Bio: In the months before the infection began Michael had just served his first year in the PSNI, he had rapped up quite a record of arrests including members of extremist paramilatery groups, rapeists, murderers and the occasional drunk and disordaly. He had just became a member of the SWAT/Riot Squad when the infection hit the UK boarders, but because it came so quickly that he had no time to prepare his family had no escape but thanks to the fort like police stations in Northern Ireland he survived. 
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Well its been a long time since I made a RP profile and an even longer time since I did a zombie RP.  

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Given The Choice Whether To Rule A Corrupt And Failing Empire Or To Challenge The Fates Againsts Destiny What Is A King To Do?

Name: Edna Grubb

Age: 97

Race: Caucasian

Gender: Male (up until 27), Female following a bizzare Hoovering Accident

Occupation(Optional): Old Lady

From: Badgers Mount, Kent

Current Location: Front of the shopping queue in Tesco, Badger's Mount, Kent

Hair Style & Color: Gray, in tight bun with blue rinse.

Eye Color: Not sure 

Starting Outfit: Headscarf, Hair Curlers, Overcoat, sensible shoes, long skirt, cardigan, 19 vests.

Tattoos(Optional): Tattoos are everything that is wrong with the world today.

 Piercings&Jewelry(Optional): Pearl necklace

Primary Weapon: Malacca walking stick & laser sight attatchments

Secondary Weapon: Talking at people

Extra Items: Shopping Trolley, Bus Pass, copy of Daily Mail,  large collection of pre-decimal money used in regular attempts to pay for s.

Bio: For the past 45 years Edna Grubb, spinster of Badgers Mount, has led a largely blameless life of traditional rural pursuits, such as Joining the Women's Institute, Baking Cakes for village fetes, and fundraising for the National Front.

Since the Infection began, Badgers Mount has errected a makeshift baricade around the village made from stockpiled copies of the Daily Mail. Needless to say the infection is simply a symptom of declining moral standards and wouldn't have happened if we'd sent all those bloody foreigners packing back when we had the chance in the 1970's - but no, it's too late now and now we've got all those zombies wandering about in their hoodies listening to the rap music and drinking cider in our bus shelters, when they should be doing National Service instead. Hanging is too for them.

You'll be telling me they've abolished slavery next. It is political correctness gone mad.

---

Edna went home and put the kettle on. Pouring herself a cup of Darjeeling, she began to crochet a MkIII Zombie net.

---

As it was approaching 4:00 in the afternoon, Edna decided to pop out to the local shop to buy some scones for afternoon tea. She put on her best hat and coat, carefully locked the front door on the way out - you can't be to careful these days, after all - and made her way down Highland Road to Milton Avenue where Mrs Figgleys cake shop was. Pausing only to rip the head of a stray zombie with her Malacca cane in an orgy of frothing blood and grue, she went into the shop, bought four delicious scones and 3oz of clotted cream.

Then she pottered home and put the kettle on.

---

After accidentally catching 5 minutes of 'Hollyoaks' thinking it was 'Countdown', Edna sat down at her Edwardian writing bureau to write a stiff letter to 'Points of View'. She wrote it on cardboard.

Then she put the kettle on.

---

Name: Dr Internet
Age: He lost his birth certificate and his drivers licence. He looks around 30.
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Occupation (Optional): He is a doctor of the internet. He legally changed his name to reflect this back in 1998.
From: On most things he writes 'the internet'.
Current Location: Technically, in a bomb shelter somewhere in Greece, but he is absolutely convinced that he lives on the internet and that the brief glimpses of his body are lies from Satan.
Hair Style and Colour: Unkempt and growing longer by the day. It's supposedly brown but he hasn't seen his reflection in years.
Starting Outfit: Completely naked apart from a fashionable sack of potatoes tied around his waist.
Tattoos (Optional): None.
Piercings and Jewellery (Optional): None.
Primary Weapon: His computer.
Secondary Weapon: Fly spray. Unopened, never been used.
Extra Items: Endless tins of food that have lasted him for many years. A toothbrush, a packet of spearmint polos and a golden pocketwatch that constantly reads two thirty, which he consistently reminds himself is 'Dentist Time'.
Bio: Dr Internet descended into his Greek bomb shelter long before the infection began in order to escape life. He has kept himself update on the situation by monitoring the exploits of the incessant BBC. He plans on one day, taking over the world through the magic of the internet. In his spare time he plays video games using the Onlive service, which by 2012 actually works half the time. He is an entirely self taught hacker, but despite his ineptitude has managed to digitially infilitrate almost all key systems on the planet, with the exception of the media centre he tried to set up from his PC inside his bomb shelter. It never quite works as intented.

---

The only thing worse than beating a dead horse is betting on one.

While attending a Women's Institute meeting on the subject of "Macramé, Jam-Making and the Joys of Nuremberg", Edna thought she heard a noise outside the Church Hall. Adjusting her hearing aid and picking up the General Electrics M214 Minigun she kept for the tourist season, she went outside. Seeing a figure shambling through the graveyard she pushed the firing stud and unleashed a hell of hot lead at 10000 rounds per minute, delivered in a cataclysm of fire, smoke and noise, devastating the surrounding area and reducing the figure to red mist.

Hobbling over to the crimson puddle she made, she picked up the oddly intact dog collar soaking up blood and felt a momentary twinge of guilt as she realised she'd just shot the vicar.

"Oh well," she thought. "He was only an Outlander."

She ambled back inside and tabled a motion they spend an afternoon tidying the Church grounds. Then she put the kettle on.

---

Dr Internet grumbled as we watched zombies roam free and unfettered in the British Isles. Thank God for CCTV, he thought absently. He zoomed in on a bobby being brutally butchered by a burly member of the undead and wrote 'LOL' into an instant message chat box to himself. He had long forgotten how to speak verbally.
After pretending to be a pregnant woman on an internet chatroom for half an hour, he decided it was time to begin Operation Billboard. The plan had been on the drawing board ever since he had heard that zombies were thankfully replacing all this irritating humans. Today, he had finally programmed his messaging software to hack into the various electronic billboards dotted around the world. He fervently typed into DOS command promt, since it made him feel more like hacker, rather than using a mouse, and sent his message to the world.

All over the planet, in red comic sans, every electronic billboard read: "Hello, I'm Dr Internet. ASL?"

---

The only thing worse than beating a dead horse is betting on one.

As Edna lay in bed reading Agatha Christie's "Miss Marple in Murder Most Moist", she was surprised to see the message ""Hello, I'm Dr Internet. ASL?" flicker across the digital alarm clock her Godson had bought her. Picking it up, she dropped it into the bin - she'd never worked out how to wind it anyway.

Then she topped up her opium pipe and passed out for the night.

---

After spending roughly eight whole hours fiddling around with his new messaging software he had managed to contact the very same butch looking zombie who had tore the head off a policeman not too long ago. He zoomed closer using the nearest CCTV camera and saw the zombie reading the messages on his PSP. The zombies command of the English language was rudimentary at best, but he had been learning really hard was currently deciphering instructions on how to download and install msn messenger.

A further eight hours later, Dr Internet and 'Philip' as he had come to call the loveable brain eating undead monstrosity, were getting on rather well.

Name: Philip
Age: 40
Race: Zombie
Gender: Male
Occupation: Zombie
From: Barnsley
Current Location: Barnsley Metrodome
Hair Style & Colour: Thin grey straggly tentacle like things. He has three of them.
Eye Colour: Red.
Starting Outfit: A dinner suit that never fit him in the first place, now almost completely ripped to shreds.
Tattoos (Optional): None.
Piercings & Jewellery (Optional): A stud in his left ear.
Primary Weapon: His zombie strength.
Secondary Weapon: His biting wit.
Extra Items: A can of Dr Pepper and an obscene photograph.
Bio: Philip was minding his own business at his mates wedding when this whole 'infection' thing started. He didn't realise it at the time, but not only had he completely ruined the large expensive highly decorated wedding cake, he had also completely cannibalised all the large expansive and highly decorated wedding guests. He developed a taste for the left hemisphere of the human brain and has continued his illustrius career amongst the undead ever since.


Dr Internet began the painful process of teaching Philip the difference between right and wrong and the two made sterling efforts to channel Philip's unfortunately demanding zombie rage into more fruitful pursuits like killing pigeons that crap all over the town centre.
Philip fell to sleep, twitching madly from the excitement of the day, on a park bench and Dr Internet sighed happily. It had been a days work.

---

The only thing worse than beating a dead horse is betting on one.

Edna played the spoons.

Clink clink-clink cliiink
Clink clink-cliiink
Clink clink-clink cliiink
clink clink-clink clink cliink
Clink clink-clink cliiink
Clink clink-cliiiink
Clink clink-cliink clink clink-cliink clink clink-cliink clink clink clink-clink!!!

Then she put the kettle on.

---

Name: Andreas Schmidt
Age: 31
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Occupation(Optional): Dentist
From: Mainz, Germany
Current Location: Airport in Frankfurt
Hair Style & Color: Short, dark hair.
Eye Color: Gray
Starting Outfit: Brown T-Shirt, Blue Jeans, Pair of Black Sneakers, Brown Sweater(he only wears it when it's cold)
Tattoos(Optional): None
Piercings&Jewelry(Optional): None
Primary Weapon: G36
Secondary Weapon: Spear(a kitchen knife strapped to a stick)
Extra Items: Firelighter, deoderant, binoculars, ten meters of string
Bio: When the zombies took over, Andreas was one of the few lucky ones who survived. He hid from the zombies as as he could and survived by plundering the stores. Once, he went to an army base outside of Frankfurt to get a gun. After some searching(most had been plundered already), he found a G36 and four clips of ammunition. He felt a lot safer with it. He occasionally encountered other survivors, and they would exchange their stories. One day, he met a whole group of sirvivors, all armed with pistols and rifles, one even had an assault rifle, two were pushing shopping carts filled with tin cans. He asked them who they were, and they replied that they were a team sent to scout the area and to collect food for their settlement. Andreas was overwhelmed when he hear that there was a whole settlement of survivors. He asked them where it was, and they told him that it was at the airport. He went to the settlement with the team.

The settlement was much bigger than Andreas had expected. There were several guards at each entrance. The airport had also been fortified: Airplanes had been moved into position to form a wall around the settlement, behind the glass windows and doors, walls had been built out of scraps of all sorts. The residents turned the planes into homes for themselves. Andreas was shown his "house"; it was an old American "Rosinenbomber". It was small, but with some work it could be made into a comfortable home, he was sure of it. After looking around a bit more he went to sleep.

---

Name: Anthony Figueroa
Age:23
Race:Half white/Half hispanic
Gender:Male
Occupation(Optional)tudent at NYU
From: New Jersey
Current Location: Central Park, NYC
Hair Style & Color: Head-Short & Messy Beard- 5 O'clock shadow. All dark brown
Eye Color: dark brown
Starting Outfit: White guinea-t. Light blue dress shirt (untucked, unbuttoned). Navy slacks. Black dress shoes. Leather gloves. All dirty and worn.
Tattoos(Optional): None
Piercings&Jewelry(Optional): Gold chain with a small cross.
Primary Weapon: metal bat
Secondary Weapon: Modified automatic air-soft gun that shoots marbles
Bio: In the initial panic of the infection Anthony sent his family (Wife and son) to Australia, one of the only places the outbreak had not affected. He could not go with them because only women and children were to be evacuated from the western hemisphere. His only mission now is to survive long enough to see his family again or to get to Australia.

Anthony was fishing for food when he heard the moans and growls of a zombie. After three years of living around them his body had become accustomed to the sound and treated it as an alarm. Anthony jumped to his feet and turned around. The zombies had become slightly faster so he had less time to react. He picked up his bat and swung at the zombie's head. Rotted blood gushed from the wound as the zombie hit the ground. Anthony hit the zombie several more times before he went back to his makeshift fish trap. He gathered it and the fish he caught and headed to a house where he had made his residence. On the way there he killed several zombies one of which was a deformed child. The virus was unmerciful and did not distinguish between men, women, or children.

Anthony opened up the door, which Anthony had replaced with a steel door some time ago. All the windows were closed up with steel as well. Inside the small house Anthony had gathered up thousands of batteries and marbles and hundreds of canned foods. He also received purified water from Central Park through a battery operated pump he built. Anthony recorded his day to day actions in a small notebook. The past days he had been searching for a leather jacket and pants but most stores had been already looted the year of the infection. Tomorrow he would go to the car dealership about ten miles away on his bike to see if there were any hydrogen powered cars left at the lot.

---

Edna cried out in anguish as she realise her favourite BitTorrent site 'The Pirate Bay' had just lost it's legal battle. Where would she get lost episodes of Songs of Praise from now?!? How would she complete her collection of Last of the Summer Wine! Oh, if only there was someone out there who could help her in her hour of need. Someone who could make the internet better again. A sort of Doctor of the Internet. A Dr Internet, if you will.

She was too upset to put the kettle on. So she leaned out of an upstairs window and tossed an RGD-5 grenade she'd got from a WWII Russian soldier during her adventurous younger days into the cluster of Zombies that'd been gathering on her lawn for the past 4 hours. She quickly pulled the window closed again.

"Kerblammy!" went the grenade, and the sky was awash with biohazardous red rain. Three-Fifths of a twitching zombie slid down her bedroom window, and flopped into the fishpond. She'd never get that window clean, no matter how much vinegar and newspaper she used.

Then she leant over to her bedside table and put her Goblin Teasmade on.

---

After spending some quality time with his suspiciously male internet girlfriends, Dr Internet got to work sending Phillip on various errands up and down the country. He infiltrated a zombie swap meet, posing as an undead iPod salesman and begun the process of learning as much about these zombie folk as he possibly could. What the zombies did not know however, is that the iPod's they were being sold were actually refurbished Zune's that Dr Internet had bought in bulk from the United States during the Great Mp3 Player Famine. You've gotta help those yanks in recession somehow, he thought at the time.

Whilst he was directing Philip in building an Ark, since he was absolutely convinced that Great Britain was going to flood shortly, Dr Internet's Internet Sense started tingling. Bitten by a rogue Ethernet cable when he was six, Dr Internet had always had a sort of seventh sense for all things related to the internet. His sixth sense was his sense of style.

A shrill, banshee-like cry reverberated in his ears and he immediately knew that something was terribly wrong with the internet. He searched the depths of the web, like some sort of digital spiderman, looking for the problem.

Philip scratched his nose and continued hammering nails into the huge wooden, strangely phallic vessel.

Pirate Bay! Woe, woe! Dr Internet was similarly upset, albeit very briefly. It wasn't long before he realised that the site was in fact a huge pile of shite and that there were plenty other places to get what you want, namely his own personal server, which he had stolen from Blizzard back when the world finally understood that WoW was a waste of time.
He would not let another fellow internet user go without though, and he felt it was his duty to serve. He called it his Nettocratic Oath. In a hot minute, he had every electronic device in the world read "Hello, I'm Dr Internet. ASL? I am a Doctor of the Internet and I am here to help you. All who are dismayed at the loss of Pirate Bay come hither." And he gave a list of contacts. Of course, it didn't originally read like that, it was more like: |-|3LL0, 1'/\/\ dr 1|\|73r|\|37. 45L? 1 4/\/\ 4 d0(70r 0Ph 7|-|3 1|\|73r|\|37 4|\|D 1 4/\/\ |-|3r3 70 |-|3LP j00Z. 4LL \/\/|-|0 R d1$/\/\4'/3D @ 7|-|3 L0$$ 0Ph p1r473 b4'/ (0/\/\3 |-|17|-|3r but luckily the software he had developed was rather at translating for him.

---

The only thing worse than beating a dead horse is betting on one.

Bob swam about in his pond. Gloop! he went, and also sploosh from time to time. Happy life.

Suddenly he heard a loud detonation from the bright thing above the wobbly bit. Then something twitching and big fell into the pond and the wobbly stuff began to turn red.

This was certainly an interesting development for Bob. Normally he just swam about and nibbled pond weed and so forth. But now that the wobbly stuff red, he felt different. More agitated. Downright angry, in fact. Rage....Taking.... Over!!!!!

Name: Bob

Age: 2

Race: Goldfish

Gender: Male

Occupation(Optional): Zombie Goldfish

From: Badgers Mount garden centre, Kent

Current Location: Edna Grubb's fish pond, Badger's Mount, Kent

Hair Style & Color: Fish don't usually have hair

Eye Color: Black

Starting Outfit: Scales

Tattoos(Optional): Edna wouldn't let him get any tattoos

Piercings&Jewelry(Optional): None, he's a fish

Primary Weapon: Nibbling

Secondary Weapon: Fearsome Zombie Goldfish Rage

Extra Items: Sometimes has a bit of poo trailing behind him in the pond

Bio: Can't really remember much beyond the past 5 minutes or so to be honest. Oh look! Some Pondweed! Sorry - what was the question?



Bob the Zombie Goldfish Raged about in his pond. Then he nibbled some pondweed. Angrily.

---

In an effort to get some real work done, Philip had enlisted an entire workforce of zombies, most of which were previous clients during his short-lived run as an iPod salesman. Due to a bizarre series of rather mundane events however, they had formed a trade union and were flatly refusing to build any more of the Ark until Philip provided them with a decent dental care plan and stopped forcing them to share toilet paper. And when I say toilet paper, I mean the toothbrushes they were forced to take to work with them.

Philip continued work on the Ark regardless figuring he hadn't needed their help before. He was slightly worried though at the fact that Dr Internet hadn't contacted him in a while. He must be testing me, he thought as he hammered away at the stern, soon Dr Internet shall deliver this world from !

One of the workers, a certain Michael Hoofbridge trundled up to Philip nervously, dragging behind him the ravaged corpse of a young woman.
"I'm not interested." Philip said testily. He glanced at the body and raised his eyebrows. "But leave it there anyway."
"It's not for you." Mr Hoofbridge said, flicking a tiny piece of brain from within his rotting teeth. "It's for my lunchbreak."
"What lunchbreak? The whole bloody day is a lunchbreak for you lazy workers."
"Well, we're going to stop holding up those signs for fifteen minutes and have a sit down. I brought this little tasty morsel for the guys."
Philip sighed. "Then what do you want?"
Hoofbridge pursed his lips.
"Spit it out man, I don't have all day. Well, technically I do since I don't technically need to sleep, but regardless. Out. Spit. It."
Hoofbridge looked back to his fellow workers, holding up various colourful and creative signs in protest of his vicious taskmastery. "They all have iPod's" He pointed at them. "I feel left out."
Philip groaned and put down his hammer. Just then though, his PSP started beeping.
"It's Dr Internet!" He called out happily. "Hrm. He wants me to go south. Fair enough. See you guys later."

And with that, he left. The zombie workforce continued protesting for a while and finally appointed Hoofbridge as their president. He took over building the Ark and converted it into a nightclub with blackjack and hookers.

---

The only thing worse than beating a dead horse is betting on one.

Bob the Zombie Goldfish was bored. He tried to relieve the tedium by swimming upside down for a while, but that just made the blood rush to his head an one of his eyes popped out. So he stopped.

Then he nibbled some pondweed.

---

Dr Internet had a heart attack and almost died. He had foolishly gone with an Australian ISP and had gone over his download limit. His internet was cut off.

He lay there, struggling for life, fervently fingering one of his computers USB ports in a desperate attempt to inject it with internet juice, which he assumed he must have flowing through his veins.

Then, miraculously, since it was the end of the month it all reset. He promptly canceled his current internet plan and finally got round to torturing Richard Branson, who he had held hostage, and convinced him to hand over Virgin Media, which he quickly changed to 'Got Laid Media' in an effort to improve the companies image.

---

The only thing worse than beating a dead horse is betting on one.

Bob the Zombie Goldfish had accidentally swallowed his eye. You know - the one that popped out when he was swimming upside down. While it gave him an undeniably interesting view of himself he never thought he'd see, it was driving him nuts. He wasn't sure what that purple, wobbly thing was, nor the green thing that went 'Skwoosh', but they were making him really, really hungry.

He tried nibbling what was left of the big, twitchy thing that'd fallen into his pond before he got angry, but the nerve ending of his eye trailing out of his mouth just got in the way. this was even worse than the trailing poo thing he used to have going on.

He was unable to nibble any pondweed. So he raged about his pond for a bit.

---

Name: Mike Smarka.

Age: 21

Race: English, European

Gender: Male

Occupation: Military Genius.

From: London, England.

Current Location: Brooklyn, NY.

Hair Style and Color: Ponytail. Dark brown.

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Starting Outfit: Class 3A Alpha Power Armor ( Like Fallout 3's brotherhood of steel armor)

Primary Weapon: AK47 with Silencer and Laser sighting,

Secondary Weapon: Desert Eagle, Laser Sighting and Silencer.

Extra Items:3000 euros. (notes), 3 Frag Grenades, 70 slots of Light Weight ammo. Nintendo DS. Tool Kit.

Bio:
In 2007 he was known as a Genius. He had the mental age of a 45 year old Engineer and a high comprehension of Science. When he was 18 he enrolled for High Military Training. At 20 he was fighting in Iraq, He retired after injury in Iraq, He is now Healthy.

In 2011 he made it to Austrailia, After setting up a base in Brooklyn, He now has a small bunker with AHP doors. (AHP = Atomic Holocaust Protection)

---

Your people just destroyed a hard built character with a simple stupid decision. Yes i understand the game said it was irreversible

I think you'll find it was you.

- The Bag,

Name: Pauly Evans
Age: 17
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Occupation: Student
From: Barnsley
Current Location: Down the Brigg
Hair Style & Colour: Black and Red pony tail
Eye Colour: Blue
Starting Outfit: Ecko red hooded top with a mix of white,black and grey graffiti writing all over it with a white Rhino on the chest and Navy blue jeans.
Tattoos (Optional): None.
Piercings & Jewellery (Optional): Two diamond (Fake) studs one on each ear and one on his belly button. Wears a ring on each finger along with 3 other chains that are silver.
Primary Weapon: BB gun (high powered) Samaria swords (Replica).
Secondary Weapon: Gansta like attitude.
Extra Items: Magnifying glass, BB bullets, Bottle of lucuzade.
Bio: It's 2009. Pauly along was at his home with his Cousin *Steven(me) who was up for his weekend visit to stay there getting drunk and playing video games. This night didn't go as planned as the infection had just hit (unbeknownst to the duo). Whilst in bored out of his skull waiting for Steven(The fussy basterd) to finish creating a character in the new smackdown game he decides to go down stairs to steal some food out of the fridge. However before as he reaches the living room he finds the place oddly silent.. his mum isn't moving but just laid there not making any sound at all... not even a snore which is extremely out of character for her. Ignoring the silence for nothing he calmly heads for the kitchen, but stops again to notice the back door to the kitchen is opened. Now a little frightened Pauly cautiously walks towards the kitchen, the baby gate on the kitchen door is already unlocked and now he's hearing clacking noises. Popping his head around the corner he notices a poorly dressed man crouched in a pool of blood, on closer inspection he notices that the man is chomping on his old dog Dusky. Enraged and confused Pauly confronts the poorly dressed man, Pauly grabs hold of the man's back and throws him into the washing machine and follows it up by kneeing him in the face. The man is now sat there pissed and staring at Pauly while twitching his neck... Pauly as played enough resident games as to know what this thing really is. Panicking Pauly hit's the zombie in the face and follows it up with another hit, and another until he's crept upon by another zombie.

This Zombie swipes for him but Pauly manages to notice the zombie and quickly ducks under it. Noticing the door is still opened he quickly closes it and pulls the handle up but noticing the keys aren't there, Knowing that he has nothing close to the amount of time that it would take to find the keys with the shambling zombies on his tail, he quickly runs up stairs to find Steven (Totally oblivious to what has just happened down stairs and still trying hard to create a character on smackdown). After a couple of minutes explaining this Steven finally gets it into his head about the fact that there is zombies in the house... this is further evidenced by one of the zombies hand punching through the door.

Frightened Pauly and Steven pick up the nearest weapons they can find... Pauly opting for his high powered BB gun and Steven opting for a xbox control pad. After firing off a few shots of the BB gun Pauly notices that the gun is doing very little damage to the zombie, Steven manages to his the Zombie over the head with controller and the impact causes the controller to get lodged into the zombies head. The zombies still standing and Pualy and Steven now cornered they decide to jump over the bed and into Liam's (Pauly's brother) old bedroom, Liam hasn't yet moved all his belongings from his bedroom and what's noticeable is a set of replica Samurai Swords that Liam's annoying friend had left when finally moving. Thinking quickly we both pull out a sword a piece (knocking every think off of the shelf in the process). Neither of us having any real sword fighting skill (Steven as the very basics from watching Krabi Krabong films on youtube and although would claim to be an expert, knows *** all about Krabi Krabong) we just swing away at the two zombies. The swords are blunt but they do the job, although after a swing nearly takes Stevens head off stabbing became the preferred approach.

With the two Zombies defeated Pauly and Steven go down stairs to find the keys and lock the door while barricading the house up. Steven is on guard duty while Pauly searches for the keys and in doing so realises that is mum is going to possibly turn into a zombie. This creates a amount of emotion for Pauly but after a amount of crying he realises what he must do and executes her while Steven happily finishes the dog that always barks at him when he comes to the house.

A couple hours have past and the house as been barricaded up the corpses have been moved into the pantry and the rest of the family have been texted/phoned and given the gist of things and told to barricade up for the night.
Now all that's to do is wait for the morning, both Pauly and Steven attempt to sharpen there swords but fail miserably so opt for going back on the Xbox....

*
Name: Steven Skelly
Age: 18
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Occupation: Student
From: Barnsley
Current Location: Down the Brigg
Hair Style & Colour: Short, Mouse brown
Eye Colour: Hazel
Starting Outfit: Timberland green rain jacket, Adidas blue trackies
Tattoos (Optional): None.
Piercings & Jewellery (Optional):None
Primary Weapon: Joystick (Xbox) Samaria swords (Replica).
Secondary Weapon: Martial arts.
Extra Items: Wallet, Phone and Memory stick.
Bio: See above.

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"IrishMorn"
If Adon and Sagat step in....ah, what the hell, I'll get drunk and join in on that one.