TIMELINE
1. BEGINNING Things have only just begun. Can you get ahead of the problem or are things just going to go to shit?
2. MIDDLE Things HAVE gone to shit. You're right in the middle of things and there's no end in sight. You have to do your best just to get to tomorrow.
3. END Things are finally winding down (or amping up getting ready to wind down). You're in preparations for the final battle, you're killing off the last few zombies, you're living your life.
4. REBUILD/DESPAIR Things are OVER. Either you won or you lost, time to rebuild or go down in your bunker and cry. Hold onto your asses, folks.
SCENARIOS
1. MONSTERS/KAIJU Think Godzilla or Pacific Rim. There are monsters, huge ones, and you gotta go through some shit to keep them from killing everything and busting up that last Dunkin Donuts you go to every Thursday with the cute girl working the counter. This is an outrage!!
2. ZOMBIES You know the drill. Whether fast or slow, virus or reanimated, airborne or fluid-borne, biting or eating: your favorite thing, zombies. Remember to aim for the head.
3. ALIENS Visitors from space! ... Except they're killing all of you! Does anyone you know have a cold? Send them to the front lines.
4. WAR Everything's gone to hell. It's going to become a nuclear winter out there if someone doesn't stop the tide of this war. History won't be written by the victors because there won't BE any.
5. "UTOPIA" Everyone is happy, right? Things are so much better now that we don't have any emotions, right? When we started culling populations to keep enough supplies for everyone, right?
6. ROBOTS YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELVES. YIKES. Skynet is a thing, everything is terrible, you're gonna get owned by a Reaper, whatever. Take 'em out, cowboy.
7. DISEASE You're not turning into rabid monsters, but people are dying off at alarming rates. What's causing it? Is there a cure? Is anyone immune? Figure it out, boyo.
8. MISC Anything left over!! Killer tomatoes? World taken over by talking dogs in exoskeletons? Whatever man, we're not the cops. Have fun.
As always, these are just suggestions. Make up anything you want, as long as you're having fun! |
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bakerstreet2017-08-18 02:50 pm
Gabriel Starling | OC
2 with zoms or any kind of weird threatening race of mons you like!
It's been raining, which helps stamp out any scents that those creatures are lured by, so Robert feels safe enough to take up residence in this burnt out gas station for a day. Rest up, make some repairs to his tools, take whatever provisions he can find useful.
The rain is a light drizzle now, but even it can't best Betsy and her sense of hearing. Standing on the defunct register counter, she perks up and growls, catching the sound or sight of something approaching. Robert is quick these days to reacting, and she's learned how to keep quiet under a single word command.
He hides the both of them behind the counter, cocking his long rifle quickly before anything can get too close to hear; there isn't even a door left on the frame to stifle any sound. Robert perches the barrel of the gun on the counter's edge and waits. Waits. Waits.
Before the soft and cautious sound of something approaches -- not snarling and bumbling like those Things. No, a person. An actual fucking person.
Which is possibly more dangerous than dealing with a mindless creature.
He watches the man come in, watching the air like he's listening for signs of his own. "Rude not to knock first," Robert announces, unconcerned with the top of his head being visible now that he's called out his own presence. "Would really love to not waste this ammo on you, bud." Please don't give him a reason to.
Betsy growls in an attempt to be intimidating, unseen from Robert's lap. Robert's lips go thin as he tries really hard to not let his own attempt at intimidation falter for that. Thanks...Betsy.
I'm a woman of simple tastes, so zoms are a-okay with me
He thinks he hears a dog growl from inside the building itself as he wanders round from the side, but he's not sure. The sound of a gun being cocked? Much harder to miss, or misinterpret. He's already a couple of steps inside when that theory's confirmed.
Bringing his hands up slowly at shoulder height, Gabriel stays put, glancing around once for the dog, soon figuring it's probably behind the counter with it's owner. When he replies, his voice is clear, but soft - maybe surprisingly so - as if he's worried about waking someone sleeping in the next room.
"And I'd appreciate you not wasting any on me either, so that's something--"
And there's another growl; not the deep sound of a bigger breed, so something smaller then. Not that he's eager to piss off anyone or their pets, but it's good to know he won't have to be wary of a mastiff or a doberman. Bites from small dogs take far less time to heal up.
"I don't want any trouble, I'm just looking for somewhere to rest up until the rain passes. But if you want me gone, then I'm gone."
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Betsy takes cues well, taking note that Robert's pulse doesn't jump, or that he doesn't raise his voice. She goes quiet in his arm, but still wary as he holds her in his arm.
It's not an unreasonable request that the man gives. This gas station is the only structure for a couple miles. Robert's eyes narrow thoughtfully as he considers.
He moves to stand, slowly, lifting the rifle off the counter as he goes. "Take the coat off." He wants to know what weapons you have on you -- and it's an expectation at this point that everybody carries some kind of weapon. Only an idiot wouldn't. "You alone?" Robert doesn't know why he bothers asking; most people are liars, anyway.
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But that's not how it works anymore, hasn't for a while and he knows it. So, when he's told to take off his coat, he does so without much protest. Keeping his hands where they can be seen as much as possible, he drops his coat on the floor close by.
He's not carrying much weapon-wise; he doesn't have a gun - too loud, too much hassle to keep loaded. There's just a knife kept in the inside pocket of the coat he just took off. If asked he'll let the guy know it's there, but if he can keep it from being stolen in the next five seconds, he will.
"Yeah. It's just me." He doesn't need to ask the same of Robert - or at least, ask if he's with any other people, though that does bring another question to mind. Probably a pointless one on the surface, but how Robert reacts to it might give Gabriel an idea of how this might turn out.
"Your dog...what's her name?"
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"--Huh?" Robert growls, attention snagged for the moment. Betsy sniffs the air curiously, eyes widening in concentration of her senses. She barks softly, as if merely trying to address the presence of the man in the room. As if Robert didn't know already.
"...She's Betsy." Betsy's wiggling a little excitedly, which is strange. She hasn't acted like this in a long time.
Robert lets her down onto the floor and she wastes no time before her claws are tapping briskly along the worn linoleum, over to the man. The very moment she stops short of the man, she's completely still, save for her nose sniffing way too intently at his pant leg.
All Robert can do is just...watch. "Well, shit. If Betsy likes you, there's no real point in me scrutinizing." Honestly, Betsy, what is so interesting about this guy?
But... Robert doesn't lower his rifle just yet. "...Still gonna wanna see what's in your jacket, though, before I decide."
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So far Robert seems level headed; not overly jumpy or trigger happy like some people he's been unfortunate enough to since everything went to shit. Hasn't reacted badly to Betsy coming over to investigate.
But that rifle's still pointed at him, so for now Gabriel plays it safe. Glancing down at his abandoned coat, he considers picking it up again, but thinks better of it.
"There's a knife in the left inside pocket. That's all." And then, maybe just to test the water a little more, "...If you could maybe not take it, I'd appreciate it."
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He hums a sound. "Wasn't thinking about it 'til you said something.
"But I don't want your knife...don't sweat it." He disarms his gun, eyes still on the man, but with less intensity than when he first walked in. "It's not my gas station, do what you want I guess." Up to and including trying to get the jump on Robert, if you're feeling so brave and stupid as to try. "We're here until the rain goes too. Or until those things show up."
Robert moves the gun off of the man. Betsy seems completely fascinated with the guy, excitedly hopping by lifting her upper body a few inches off the ground to get his attention. She yaps softly. Robert hasn't seen her act like this in months. He nods at the dog. "Looks like she's trying for your attention. Wouldn't wanna be rude."
That's the closest you're going to get Robert to say, yes, you can pet my dog.
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"Thanks.."
And then, with permission from Robert, Gabriel finally crouches down - his movements still slow, but definitely less wary than before. He lets Betsy sniff at the hand he holds out for her before he starts petting her, smiling quietly to himself when she rests her front paws on his knee, nudging into his hand and licking it when the chance presents itself.
"I didn't see any on my way here- or not enough to really be an issue. As long as we're quiet we should be fine."
And after a beat, he adds;
"I'm Gabriel, by the way." Because the only thing more rude than ignoring a dog wanting your attention is not to make small talk with the owner, obviously.
He probably doesn't care what Gabriel's name is, but it's been a while since he's had an actual conversation with another person who didn't want to kill him. If they can spend their rain-escaping time somewhat amicably, that'd be preferable.
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This man -- Gabriel, apparently -- doesn't seem like that level of insane, though. Not so far, at least. Once it seems as though the interaction between him and Betsy is a safe one, Robert moves with slow, casual movements around the defunct cash register counter.
"...Robert." Not as if fake names serve a purpose anymore, what with society in shambles and government a crumbled colonnade. The only things Robert has left to lose are his weapons, his rations, and his dog.
He slings his rifle over his shoulder by its strap, peering out the door-shaped void where Gabriel entered through. "How many did you see? How long ago?" Seeing any is still enough of a concern to Robert to stay prepared and alert -- which, to be fair, is already just the baseline to existing anymore.
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"Couldn't say for sure - a handful, no more than six or seven over the last couple of miles anyway, spread out. I wasn't counting though, if I'm being honest."
There are likely more, trapped in hiding places that ended up not being good enough, or not wandering close enough to the road to warrant alarm. But when you don't necessarily need to pay as much attention to them, it's easy to let yourself get lost in thought during the hours upon hours of walking. Gabe can tell when one comes close and can outrun them easily enough. That isn't to say he's reckless, but for the most part he lets his senses do the work for him.
When he finally straightens up, Gabriel brings his coat up with him and dusts it off before pulling it back on.
"I guess the closer you get to the city, the more trouble you'll find." After a pause, he adds, somewhat cautiously. Not everyone's so keen on sharing nowadays, information or otherwise. "Is that where you two are headed..?"