I never intended it to replace End Round maps.. since they take like.. 30 minutes to make if I go real real fast. This one took me around an hour and a half.
Oh man Pony.. you want the PSD? So many layers... SO MANY..
naw it's cool
the psd i am using now is layered enough
i don't need a seperate layer for each zombie, especially since i periodically replace them with different icons, like ones for knocked down or flaming or alert zombies.
Pony on
0
VivixenneRemember your training, and we'll get through this just fine.Registered Userregular
edited January 2007
Dark, man, that shit is fucking amazing, haha!
Definitely makes it easier for me to figure out the basic events of the round, though I still have to go through to dig up the dialogue. :P
You're drawn to my eccentric Brawl Code: 4596 9143 4529
0
VivixenneRemember your training, and we'll get through this just fine.Registered Userregular
edited January 2007
Chapter Two
Team ZAP
"All right, ZAP, we know where we're going. Meet me there," Scrum muttered to his men as they vaulted off the back of the truck and instantly began their move southward.
It was a depressing sight, if only because they'd seen it many times before. What had to have been a relatively lively part of the city was now reminiscent of a war zone. Dried blood was spattered on every surface in sight, alongside broken bones, rotting food, and tattered shards of clothing, glass, and other debris. The air was rank with the smell of death, but that wasn't new to them in the least; you got used to anything if you breathed it in everyday. A dilapidated gas station was the first building to greet them, with the narrow street lined with buildings that looked as though they'd been bombed from the inside.
Fierce Deity cocked his shotgun and signaled to Monkeyfeet to take point, then gestured to Ham. "Slow down, got it? You're our medic, so stay a pace behind us at all times."
Ham Hammer nodded and slowed his step. "Roger that."
"Monkey, hold at the door to the drugstore so that we can assess our situation. Scrum and I will watch your back."
"Roger."
Scrum looked ahead to see Team ASH just turning the corner ahead of them to the entrance of the gas station. "We left you cocksuckers the gas station, so don't waste what you find!" he called.
"We'll see if we can save anything for you and your fucking fire truck," Green shouted back.
"Will you fuckers shut the fuck up?" Fierce hissed. "You act like the Zeds are deaf!"
They dashed past the barricaded gas station, with Team Hart following in their wake. Scrum's trained eyes swept east and west, hands tightening on his rifle every time he saw a whisper of a moving shadow. While a trained Dead-eye that operated best in concealment or on an elevated perch, the circumstance made such a strategy a poor choice; you either stayed together, or you were almost certainly a goner.
Monkey came to a halt outside the door to the drug store, and Scrum instantly dropped to his knees, rifle raised, to check the area. Fierce did the same behind him, while Ham and all of Team Hart came to a stop behind them.
"Looks clear," Fierce muttered to his comrades.
Clang.
Scrum nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around, finger on the trigger.
Clang.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Scrum groaned, scowling at Hart. "What in god's name are you doing?"
"Arming up," Hart the mechanic answered, not looking up as he continued his hammering. "I don't know if you've noticed but I don't have a goddamn weapon and neither does my man Darkblade here." He lifted one of his makeshift Bludgeons, hefted it, and tossed it over to Darkblade. "I take care of my own."
"Thanks," Darkblade said to Hart, patting him on the shoulder.
"You couldn't do that before we left the convoy?" Scrum sighed, exasperated.
"Want me to test this thing out on your face?" Hart asked, lifting a second Bludgeon.
"Shhhhh." Fierce said then, the barrel of his shotgun sweeping this way and that. "I think I hear something. Ugly."
Team ASH
"Quetzi, are you going to be okay handling that yourself?" Green asked as Quetzi as the little sneak ran off to the east.
"Yeah, the lock will be no problem. Can I get some help searching?"
"All right. We'll get to you once we take care of the gas station." Green tested the weight of his Bludgeon as he got to his feet. "Armed and ready to go," he said to Marathon with a nod.
Marathon, who'd just fired off an answer to Team Foxtrot via his radio, holstered it and gestured to Naporean. "Whatever you're going to do, do it." To Kong, "Head to the corner to back Quetzi up."
With a maniacal grin, Naporean ripped his chainsaw once, twice, and the beast of a machine roared to life. "Stand back!" he shouted over the sound of the saw.
"I think you might need some help with that, man," Rockmonkey yelled, drawing his blade and stepping forward towards the barricade. "You take care of the initial blockage and I'll slice a way open. No sense in wasting more fuel than you absolutely have to."
Naporean nodded, then, with a roar, hurled himself at the barricade, breaking through an impressive combination of wood and metallic reinforcements. "I'm in!" he bellowed as he began to pull his saw downward, slicing a clean groove into the door. A long, narrow crevice now ran straight down the middle of the improvised-yet-sturdy barricade. He turned off his chainsaw, tossed it aside, then, without warning, hurled himself at the barricade, ramming his shoulder into the wood.
"Calm down!" Marathon ordered, and Rockmonkey leapt forward to pull Naporean back. "You're not getting it open that way. We need you uninjured. Let Rock do his thing."
Naporean nodded, sweating slightly and breathing heavily, as though coming down from an adrenaline high.
Rockmonkey stepped up to the plate, grasped his sword with both hands, and inserted it into the groove his comrade had managed to carve. Twisting the sword sideways, he cut it left and then right, so that now a giant cross appeared on the door. Then, from the center of the cross, he cut in four more directions, so that it was marked with a massive asterisk. He gestured to Naporean, who rushed up to slam his foot into the barricade, instantly breaking it apart and bashing through the debris behind it.
Team Foxtrot
"Come on, guys, I need to raid that hospital," Favlaud said to his teammates as they dashed westward. "The things I have now would make a boy scout laugh!"
"Don't worry, Favvles," Sars Boy assured him. "We'll get you there with time to spare."
Beside Favlaud, Smart Hero raised his radio to his lips. "All teams, Foxtrot. We're moving west. Keep your heads down and be careful. Over."
Marathon's voice crackled over the radio. "Foxtrot, ASH. Thanks man, you, too. Over."
"Let's keep this quick and get back in one piece," Smart Hero said as he holstered his radio and took hold of his shotgun. "Druhim, you see anything?"
"All clear as far as I can tell. Could change in a hurry, though."
"Okay, stop at that intersection up ahead to get our bearings," Smart ordered. "I want me and Dru ahead, Dru on point. Favvles, you stay back and Sars will take care of you, got it?"
"Roger," Favvles and Sars Boy responded together.
"We gonna search that?" Druhim asked, gesturing to the building on the southwest corner.
"Hospital's our top priority. Okay, hold here and let's decide whether to turn south or keep heading west. Shouldn't be too much father."
"AHHHHH what the fuck, man!" a voice suddenly screeched through the radio.
"What the fuck was that?" Sars demanded, staring at the radio on Smart's hip.
===
Chapter Three already half-done. Fuck, keeping track of everyone and keeping the fights believable is fucking HARD, haha.
[EDIT] I'll post Chapter Three some time tomorrow; heading home from work now.
Side note: If you're going to write my side story I believe I began in the "Zombies!" thread and continued here.
This story is fun stuff so far. The flash is amazing.
If anyone else has any projects for which they need the photoshop template (it's layered and organized into neat folders) PM me.
I'm just going to say that between the old Zombie thread, this game, and Dark and Viv's contributions, this has probably been my favorite thing about SE++, ever.
Yes, I would indeed say this has surpassed Assassins as my favorite forum game EVER!
But, I still really really like assassins and wish they'd let us play it again.
What is this you speak of?
Assassins? where the players divide up into teams, and then get a kill list of people on the other teams. to kill someone you must wait until they post and then post DIRECTLY after them quoting them and saying the proper kill phrase. There are shield and a certain number of times you have to post a day and all types of things.
Like if someone quotes to kill you then you can post AGAIN DIRECTLY after them and say the escape phrase to stay alive. They can then try and kill you again but by that point the chain is usually broken.
You can only hunt the top 3 people on your list. Teams last time were pirates, robots, ninjas, and something else.
edit: it was stopped because some people would get pissy when the killing spread over into their thread. It was strictly limited to SE++, but still...
oh and you had to have your team sig displayed. Here's the ninja one:
and you replaced it with a different version when you died.
rockmonkey on
0
VivixenneRemember your training, and we'll get through this just fine.Registered Userregular
edited January 2007
Chapter Three
Team ZAP
"AHHHH what the fuck, man!" Fierce screamed, raising his shotgun. "Shit, shit, oh fuck!"
"Stay calm," Hart shouted. "We've got your back!"
"Holy shit, I'm glad I'm not those guys," Homeless whispered softly to his teammates.
"Shut the fuck up you bleeding vagina!" Ham Hammer shouted in answer. "Those are my guys up there!" He looked up ahead, where a half-dozen Zeds were right on top of Scrum, Fierce Deity, and Monkeyfeet. Please be okay, Scrum.
It was Ham's first time in close proximity to a moving Zed (he'd never say "living"), with "close proximity" translating into "within a mile." He'd dealt with the infection itself, having managed to delay it in many of his past patients, but his old hospital had been evacuated long before any of the infected actually turned. Though he'd been briefed and seen enough news reports to know what he was up against, there was absolutely nothing that could prepare him for the six moving corpses that were less than a stone's throw away.
Their gray-green skin—if you could call it that—hung off of their skeletons like loose rags on a homeless bum, with patches of it missing, revealing the rotting flesh and bone beneath. Their eyelids had long rotted away, revealing unblinking, unstaring eyes, coupled with blackened teeth gleaming menacingly through lipless mouths. They were, very literally, the walking dead.
Yet, they moved pretty damned fast for corpses beset by rigor mortis, which, in the end, only seemed to make their flesh that much harder to penetrate with any kind of weapon. Their senses were still relatively intact, even if their sentience was now limited to the level of that of the simplest of organisms. Their speed had been shocking, as the first three had turned the corner and lunged at Scrum and the others before either ZAP or Hart could react.
It was a testament to their training, then, that Scrum, Fierce Deity, and Monkeyfeet were still alive.
Fierce's shotgun went off with a ferocious bang, and a split second later the tactician was running back behind Team Hart's location, almost crying with relief as he fell to his knees. His target joined him—if only in motion—collapsing to the ground in a headless heap, flesh torn apart by an overdose of close-ranged buckshot, droplets of a thick, oozing bile splattering in all directions. How Fierce managed to hit the head for such an efficient kill while retreating, Ham would never know.
Scrum, significantly calmer than Fierce, managed to dodge the first Zed attack and instantly made a mad dash past Fierce's location, near the insertion point. Moving smoothly, gracefully, he instantly whipped around and lined up a shot in the span of a heartbeat. BANG. He got his headshot, the Zed's head imploding as the force of the shell pounded into its left eye, black blood blasting out of the back of its neck.
Hammer rushed up to Scrum immediately. "You all right? Looked like a close one," he said, eyes scanning his comrade's body.
"Yeah," Scrum replied, swiping at his brow and putting a hand on Ham's shoulder. "Fucker almost got me. Fuck."
"Nice shot."
"Thanks."
"Hey, you two okay?" Redeemer of Team Foxtrot asked, rushing up to the two of them from the insertion point.
"Yeah," Ham answered with a nod. "We're good."
Together, the three of them looked to the south, seeing that Team Hart and Monkeyfeet had chosen to hold their position by the drugstore, with more Zeds approached from the surrounding area, closing in slowly. Ham saw Team Hart's hands collectively tighten on their respective weapons, with Rolo already lining up a shot. Rockmonkey and Rolo were the only guys on Team Hart with a ranged weapon; it'd come down to blows even if they managed to take two Zeds completely out.
What the hell was wrong with Monkeyfeet, and why wasn't he hightailing it with the rest of his team?
"Everyone get out of the way or GET THE FUCK DOWN!" a voice suddenly bellowed from just ahead of them, and they saw Kong heading towards Team Hart from the gas station, his flamethrower in his hands. No one needed telling twice; Rolo pulled a frozen Monkeyfeet out of the way while the rest of Team Hart either hit the deck or ran back behind Kong.
With a resounding "WOOOO!" Kong lit up and sprayed the Zeds with a brilliant jet of flame. Ham could feel the heat even from where he stood and resisted the urge to raise his hands and block the blast.
Five of the zombies were set aflame, but this didn't slow their approach in the slightest.
"Oh, fuck," Ham said, eyes widening as one of the flaming zombies took a swing at Kong. "Get out of there, Kong!"
Team ASH
"Clickety-click," Quetzi half-hummed as he heard the satisfying sound of tumblers sliding into place. He tucked his lock picks back into his belt. "I'm in!" he announced, waving to his teammates.
"We're in, too," Marathon shouted back. "Get over here and help us check this place out. Nap and Rock kicked up a racket so let's get in and get out, fast."
"Roger that," Quetzi answered, then proceeded to slither his way toward the gas station, his footsteps making absolutely no sound. He joined his teammates, who greeted him with a chorus of nods. He felt his eyes widen at the sight of the splintered, jagged doorway that Rockmonkey and Naporean had unceremoniously carved into the entrance to the gas station.
"All right," Marathon said, pulling Quetzi up close. "We're going to go in. Me on the right, you on the left, Naporean in first to cover us. Got it?"
"Roger," Quetzi answered with a nod.
"Marathon!" Kong's voice suddenly shouted from behind them. "ZAP's got some crazy shit bearing down on them, man! Permission to assist?" He lifted his flamethrower as he spoke, as if to make a point.
Right on cue, a screech echoed through the radio on Marathon's belt. "AHHHH what the fuck, man!"
"Sounds like Fierce," Quetzi remarked, hands over his ears as the swearing continued for a good few seconds before Fierce seemed to remember to turn off his radio.
Marathon caught Kong's eye and nodded. "Go. Be careful."
Heavy footsteps thundering on the sidewalk, Kong dashed south.
"Damn, I hope those guys will be okay," Green said, shaking his head.
Quetzi's sharp eyes narrowed slightly at Green. Did the stalwart mechanic just tremble in fear, or was that just his imagination?
"Okay, Quetzi," Marathon said then, drawing the sneak's attention back to the task at hand. "On my mark. Two. One. Mark."
Naporean pushed his bulky self through the hole, glanced around, then gestured for the rest to follow, moving to the right side of the room.
Quetzi leapt through the hole in the barricade, his lithe form sliding in with no difficulty at all. He kept to his left hand wall and whipped out his flashlight, searching the southwest corner of the gas station.
Behind him, he heard Marathon's soft footfalls as the tactician entered the building.
His movements were smooth and steady, keeping his black-clad figure in the shadows as much as possible while the light of his flashlight swept across the floors and walls. A headless, burned corpse appeared in the shaft of light, frozen as though the poor fuck had been set on fire long before he'd been decapitated. Quetzi didn't blink, only continued his search.
"Uh, Marathon?" Rockmonkey suddenly called from the doorway. "We got us some fucking company!"
Quetzi's heart jumped at Rock's words but he didn't whip around or slow down. He hadn't received orders to stop what he was doing.
"How many?" Marathon asked.
"Just one, coming at us from the southeast," Green reported.
"Taking him out, Rock. Nap, you're backing him up."
"Roger that," Rock and Naporean replied in unison, and Naporean muscled his way out of the gas station and back to the sidewalk just beyond
Quetzi's eyes narrowed as he came to corner of the building. Were those…? "I've got fuel, sir! Two pints!" He rushed forward and wiped some of the dust off of the rusting red canisters. Without hesitation, he tucked his flashlight into his belt, grabbed the canisters, and made for the exit.
"I don't want to waste anymore fuel, man," Naporean was saying as Quetzi plopped the canisters onto the sidewalk. "Not on just one Zed."
"Shit, shit," Green muttered, almost cutting his finger off as his eyes shot from the shard of metal in his hand and the approaching Zed and back again. "Here!" he shouted, thrusting the leather-bound blade into Naporean's hands. "Take that fucker out!"
Naporean put his chainsaw on the ground, took up the makeshift blade, and took off after Rockmonkey, who was only feet away from the Zed.
It happened too fast for even Quetzi to track; Rockmonkey moved in a blur of gray and black, with his sword gleaming in a series of silver arcs. The next moment, the Zed had fallen in a heap of diced flesh, and Rock had crouched down beside it, most likely to whisper one of his trademark lines.
Team Foxtrot
"Almost there guys, keep your eyes peeled," Sars Boy said to his teammates, keeping an eye out behind them.
"Looks clear to the east," Druhim confirmed.
"Roger that. Dru, go ahead and check out what's around the corner. We'll hang back and wait for an all clear before we move for the entrance."
"Roger that, scouting ahead." Dru took off, with Smart Hero, Favlaud, and Sars Boy lagging several paces behind him.
"Shit, I think I hear one of them!" Favvles whispered, his eyes wide and tone fearful. "Don't make too much noise!"
Druhim gestured for him to shut up and edged his way to the corner of the building.
Team Hart
"Run for it, you bastards!" Kong cried as he dodged a second attack from the flaming Zed.
"Something's wrong with Monkeyfeet," Hart insisted. "We can't leave him!"
"Stay with him and I guarantee you fuckers are goners as well," Kong snarled.
"We're fine!" Hart insisted. "You get out of here. Those Zeds are ashes by the time they get to us!" He turned to Homeless. "Go, go, go!"
Moving with a deft finesse such as only Homeless could manage to pull off with five fiery, ferocious foes practically puking onto his face, Team Hart's warrior dove past the two flaming Zeds in front and dodged a swipe from a third. An expert swing from his blade, and the one Zed that had managed to stay fireproof suddenly found itself with nothing but a bloody stump for a head. Without even waiting for his victim's head to hit the ground, Homeless had leapt out and away from the rest of the Zeds to rejoin his team, his neck and cheek stained with the black blood of the kill.
======
Fuck all that was hard to compile. Doesn't leave much wiggle room, hah.
Posts
naw it's cool
the psd i am using now is layered enough
i don't need a seperate layer for each zombie, especially since i periodically replace them with different icons, like ones for knocked down or flaming or alert zombies.
Definitely makes it easier for me to figure out the basic events of the round, though I still have to go through to dig up the dialogue. :P
You're drawn to my eccentric Brawl Code: 4596 9143 4529
Team ZAP
"All right, ZAP, we know where we're going. Meet me there," Scrum muttered to his men as they vaulted off the back of the truck and instantly began their move southward.
It was a depressing sight, if only because they'd seen it many times before. What had to have been a relatively lively part of the city was now reminiscent of a war zone. Dried blood was spattered on every surface in sight, alongside broken bones, rotting food, and tattered shards of clothing, glass, and other debris. The air was rank with the smell of death, but that wasn't new to them in the least; you got used to anything if you breathed it in everyday. A dilapidated gas station was the first building to greet them, with the narrow street lined with buildings that looked as though they'd been bombed from the inside.
Fierce Deity cocked his shotgun and signaled to Monkeyfeet to take point, then gestured to Ham. "Slow down, got it? You're our medic, so stay a pace behind us at all times."
Ham Hammer nodded and slowed his step. "Roger that."
"Monkey, hold at the door to the drugstore so that we can assess our situation. Scrum and I will watch your back."
"Roger."
Scrum looked ahead to see Team ASH just turning the corner ahead of them to the entrance of the gas station. "We left you cocksuckers the gas station, so don't waste what you find!" he called.
"We'll see if we can save anything for you and your fucking fire truck," Green shouted back.
"Will you fuckers shut the fuck up?" Fierce hissed. "You act like the Zeds are deaf!"
They dashed past the barricaded gas station, with Team Hart following in their wake. Scrum's trained eyes swept east and west, hands tightening on his rifle every time he saw a whisper of a moving shadow. While a trained Dead-eye that operated best in concealment or on an elevated perch, the circumstance made such a strategy a poor choice; you either stayed together, or you were almost certainly a goner.
Monkey came to a halt outside the door to the drug store, and Scrum instantly dropped to his knees, rifle raised, to check the area. Fierce did the same behind him, while Ham and all of Team Hart came to a stop behind them.
"Looks clear," Fierce muttered to his comrades.
Clang.
Scrum nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around, finger on the trigger.
Clang.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Scrum groaned, scowling at Hart. "What in god's name are you doing?"
"Arming up," Hart the mechanic answered, not looking up as he continued his hammering. "I don't know if you've noticed but I don't have a goddamn weapon and neither does my man Darkblade here." He lifted one of his makeshift Bludgeons, hefted it, and tossed it over to Darkblade. "I take care of my own."
"Thanks," Darkblade said to Hart, patting him on the shoulder.
"You couldn't do that before we left the convoy?" Scrum sighed, exasperated.
"Want me to test this thing out on your face?" Hart asked, lifting a second Bludgeon.
"Shhhhh." Fierce said then, the barrel of his shotgun sweeping this way and that. "I think I hear something. Ugly."
Team ASH
"Quetzi, are you going to be okay handling that yourself?" Green asked as Quetzi as the little sneak ran off to the east.
"Yeah, the lock will be no problem. Can I get some help searching?"
"All right. We'll get to you once we take care of the gas station." Green tested the weight of his Bludgeon as he got to his feet. "Armed and ready to go," he said to Marathon with a nod.
Marathon, who'd just fired off an answer to Team Foxtrot via his radio, holstered it and gestured to Naporean. "Whatever you're going to do, do it." To Kong, "Head to the corner to back Quetzi up."
With a maniacal grin, Naporean ripped his chainsaw once, twice, and the beast of a machine roared to life. "Stand back!" he shouted over the sound of the saw.
"I think you might need some help with that, man," Rockmonkey yelled, drawing his blade and stepping forward towards the barricade. "You take care of the initial blockage and I'll slice a way open. No sense in wasting more fuel than you absolutely have to."
Naporean nodded, then, with a roar, hurled himself at the barricade, breaking through an impressive combination of wood and metallic reinforcements. "I'm in!" he bellowed as he began to pull his saw downward, slicing a clean groove into the door. A long, narrow crevice now ran straight down the middle of the improvised-yet-sturdy barricade. He turned off his chainsaw, tossed it aside, then, without warning, hurled himself at the barricade, ramming his shoulder into the wood.
"Calm down!" Marathon ordered, and Rockmonkey leapt forward to pull Naporean back. "You're not getting it open that way. We need you uninjured. Let Rock do his thing."
Naporean nodded, sweating slightly and breathing heavily, as though coming down from an adrenaline high.
Rockmonkey stepped up to the plate, grasped his sword with both hands, and inserted it into the groove his comrade had managed to carve. Twisting the sword sideways, he cut it left and then right, so that now a giant cross appeared on the door. Then, from the center of the cross, he cut in four more directions, so that it was marked with a massive asterisk. He gestured to Naporean, who rushed up to slam his foot into the barricade, instantly breaking it apart and bashing through the debris behind it.
Team Foxtrot
"Come on, guys, I need to raid that hospital," Favlaud said to his teammates as they dashed westward. "The things I have now would make a boy scout laugh!"
"Don't worry, Favvles," Sars Boy assured him. "We'll get you there with time to spare."
Beside Favlaud, Smart Hero raised his radio to his lips. "All teams, Foxtrot. We're moving west. Keep your heads down and be careful. Over."
Marathon's voice crackled over the radio. "Foxtrot, ASH. Thanks man, you, too. Over."
"Let's keep this quick and get back in one piece," Smart Hero said as he holstered his radio and took hold of his shotgun. "Druhim, you see anything?"
"All clear as far as I can tell. Could change in a hurry, though."
"Okay, stop at that intersection up ahead to get our bearings," Smart ordered. "I want me and Dru ahead, Dru on point. Favvles, you stay back and Sars will take care of you, got it?"
"Roger," Favvles and Sars Boy responded together.
"We gonna search that?" Druhim asked, gesturing to the building on the southwest corner.
"Hospital's our top priority. Okay, hold here and let's decide whether to turn south or keep heading west. Shouldn't be too much father."
"AHHHHH what the fuck, man!" a voice suddenly screeched through the radio.
"What the fuck was that?" Sars demanded, staring at the radio on Smart's hip.
===
Chapter Three already half-done. Fuck, keeping track of everyone and keeping the fights believable is fucking HARD, haha.
[EDIT] I'll post Chapter Three some time tomorrow; heading home from work now.
This story is fun stuff so far. The flash is amazing.
If anyone else has any projects for which they need the photoshop template (it's layered and organized into neat folders) PM me.
I'll see if I can't assemble my entries.
Sorry I havn't been showing up much, guys. I recently got a scholarship offer to school and I've been doing tests and crap.
3mb gif file ftw
You're drawn to my eccentric Brawl Code: 4596 9143 4529
pokemon pearl friend code- 4897-2782-3202
So I'm making animations..
You're drawn to my eccentric Brawl Code: 4596 9143 4529
It's not like you'd be doing much more than decomposing anyways.
You're drawn to my eccentric Brawl Code: 4596 9143 4529
No skulls have to smile. Ashes can frown though, don't worry.
Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr | Last.fm | Pandora | LibraryThing | formspring | Blue Moon over Seattle (MCFC)
The Viking Plan? Yes.
Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr | Last.fm | Pandora | LibraryThing | formspring | Blue Moon over Seattle (MCFC)
Round 2
I decided to focus the map on the top right corner, where all the action is anyway.
I shaved half the size off of it because of that change..
ENJOY!
You're drawn to my eccentric Brawl Code: 4596 9143 4529
Ahh well.. I'll leave that up till I finish it..
You're drawn to my eccentric Brawl Code: 4596 9143 4529
oh wow
that's amazing
pokemon pearl friend code- 4897-2782-3202
then round 5 can have me getting butchered by a lunatic
Keeeses.
Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr | Last.fm | Pandora | LibraryThing | formspring | Blue Moon over Seattle (MCFC)
But, I still really really like assassins and wish they'd let us play it again.
Assassins? where the players divide up into teams, and then get a kill list of people on the other teams. to kill someone you must wait until they post and then post DIRECTLY after them quoting them and saying the proper kill phrase. There are shield and a certain number of times you have to post a day and all types of things.
Like if someone quotes to kill you then you can post AGAIN DIRECTLY after them and say the escape phrase to stay alive. They can then try and kill you again but by that point the chain is usually broken.
You can only hunt the top 3 people on your list. Teams last time were pirates, robots, ninjas, and something else.
edit: it was stopped because some people would get pissy when the killing spread over into their thread. It was strictly limited to SE++, but still...
oh and you had to have your team sig displayed. Here's the ninja one:
and you replaced it with a different version when you died.
Team ZAP
"AHHHH what the fuck, man!" Fierce screamed, raising his shotgun. "Shit, shit, oh fuck!"
"Stay calm," Hart shouted. "We've got your back!"
"Holy shit, I'm glad I'm not those guys," Homeless whispered softly to his teammates.
"Shut the fuck up you bleeding vagina!" Ham Hammer shouted in answer. "Those are my guys up there!" He looked up ahead, where a half-dozen Zeds were right on top of Scrum, Fierce Deity, and Monkeyfeet. Please be okay, Scrum.
It was Ham's first time in close proximity to a moving Zed (he'd never say "living"), with "close proximity" translating into "within a mile." He'd dealt with the infection itself, having managed to delay it in many of his past patients, but his old hospital had been evacuated long before any of the infected actually turned. Though he'd been briefed and seen enough news reports to know what he was up against, there was absolutely nothing that could prepare him for the six moving corpses that were less than a stone's throw away.
Their gray-green skin—if you could call it that—hung off of their skeletons like loose rags on a homeless bum, with patches of it missing, revealing the rotting flesh and bone beneath. Their eyelids had long rotted away, revealing unblinking, unstaring eyes, coupled with blackened teeth gleaming menacingly through lipless mouths. They were, very literally, the walking dead.
Yet, they moved pretty damned fast for corpses beset by rigor mortis, which, in the end, only seemed to make their flesh that much harder to penetrate with any kind of weapon. Their senses were still relatively intact, even if their sentience was now limited to the level of that of the simplest of organisms. Their speed had been shocking, as the first three had turned the corner and lunged at Scrum and the others before either ZAP or Hart could react.
It was a testament to their training, then, that Scrum, Fierce Deity, and Monkeyfeet were still alive.
Fierce's shotgun went off with a ferocious bang, and a split second later the tactician was running back behind Team Hart's location, almost crying with relief as he fell to his knees. His target joined him—if only in motion—collapsing to the ground in a headless heap, flesh torn apart by an overdose of close-ranged buckshot, droplets of a thick, oozing bile splattering in all directions. How Fierce managed to hit the head for such an efficient kill while retreating, Ham would never know.
Scrum, significantly calmer than Fierce, managed to dodge the first Zed attack and instantly made a mad dash past Fierce's location, near the insertion point. Moving smoothly, gracefully, he instantly whipped around and lined up a shot in the span of a heartbeat. BANG. He got his headshot, the Zed's head imploding as the force of the shell pounded into its left eye, black blood blasting out of the back of its neck.
Hammer rushed up to Scrum immediately. "You all right? Looked like a close one," he said, eyes scanning his comrade's body.
"Yeah," Scrum replied, swiping at his brow and putting a hand on Ham's shoulder. "Fucker almost got me. Fuck."
"Nice shot."
"Thanks."
"Hey, you two okay?" Redeemer of Team Foxtrot asked, rushing up to the two of them from the insertion point.
"Yeah," Ham answered with a nod. "We're good."
Together, the three of them looked to the south, seeing that Team Hart and Monkeyfeet had chosen to hold their position by the drugstore, with more Zeds approached from the surrounding area, closing in slowly. Ham saw Team Hart's hands collectively tighten on their respective weapons, with Rolo already lining up a shot. Rockmonkey and Rolo were the only guys on Team Hart with a ranged weapon; it'd come down to blows even if they managed to take two Zeds completely out.
What the hell was wrong with Monkeyfeet, and why wasn't he hightailing it with the rest of his team?
"Everyone get out of the way or GET THE FUCK DOWN!" a voice suddenly bellowed from just ahead of them, and they saw Kong heading towards Team Hart from the gas station, his flamethrower in his hands. No one needed telling twice; Rolo pulled a frozen Monkeyfeet out of the way while the rest of Team Hart either hit the deck or ran back behind Kong.
With a resounding "WOOOO!" Kong lit up and sprayed the Zeds with a brilliant jet of flame. Ham could feel the heat even from where he stood and resisted the urge to raise his hands and block the blast.
Five of the zombies were set aflame, but this didn't slow their approach in the slightest.
"Oh, fuck," Ham said, eyes widening as one of the flaming zombies took a swing at Kong. "Get out of there, Kong!"
Team ASH
"Clickety-click," Quetzi half-hummed as he heard the satisfying sound of tumblers sliding into place. He tucked his lock picks back into his belt. "I'm in!" he announced, waving to his teammates.
"We're in, too," Marathon shouted back. "Get over here and help us check this place out. Nap and Rock kicked up a racket so let's get in and get out, fast."
"Roger that," Quetzi answered, then proceeded to slither his way toward the gas station, his footsteps making absolutely no sound. He joined his teammates, who greeted him with a chorus of nods. He felt his eyes widen at the sight of the splintered, jagged doorway that Rockmonkey and Naporean had unceremoniously carved into the entrance to the gas station.
"All right," Marathon said, pulling Quetzi up close. "We're going to go in. Me on the right, you on the left, Naporean in first to cover us. Got it?"
"Roger," Quetzi answered with a nod.
"Marathon!" Kong's voice suddenly shouted from behind them. "ZAP's got some crazy shit bearing down on them, man! Permission to assist?" He lifted his flamethrower as he spoke, as if to make a point.
Right on cue, a screech echoed through the radio on Marathon's belt. "AHHHH what the fuck, man!"
"Sounds like Fierce," Quetzi remarked, hands over his ears as the swearing continued for a good few seconds before Fierce seemed to remember to turn off his radio.
Marathon caught Kong's eye and nodded. "Go. Be careful."
Heavy footsteps thundering on the sidewalk, Kong dashed south.
"Damn, I hope those guys will be okay," Green said, shaking his head.
Quetzi's sharp eyes narrowed slightly at Green. Did the stalwart mechanic just tremble in fear, or was that just his imagination?
"Okay, Quetzi," Marathon said then, drawing the sneak's attention back to the task at hand. "On my mark. Two. One. Mark."
Naporean pushed his bulky self through the hole, glanced around, then gestured for the rest to follow, moving to the right side of the room.
Quetzi leapt through the hole in the barricade, his lithe form sliding in with no difficulty at all. He kept to his left hand wall and whipped out his flashlight, searching the southwest corner of the gas station.
Behind him, he heard Marathon's soft footfalls as the tactician entered the building.
His movements were smooth and steady, keeping his black-clad figure in the shadows as much as possible while the light of his flashlight swept across the floors and walls. A headless, burned corpse appeared in the shaft of light, frozen as though the poor fuck had been set on fire long before he'd been decapitated. Quetzi didn't blink, only continued his search.
"Uh, Marathon?" Rockmonkey suddenly called from the doorway. "We got us some fucking company!"
Quetzi's heart jumped at Rock's words but he didn't whip around or slow down. He hadn't received orders to stop what he was doing.
"How many?" Marathon asked.
"Just one, coming at us from the southeast," Green reported.
"Taking him out, Rock. Nap, you're backing him up."
"Roger that," Rock and Naporean replied in unison, and Naporean muscled his way out of the gas station and back to the sidewalk just beyond
Quetzi's eyes narrowed as he came to corner of the building. Were those…? "I've got fuel, sir! Two pints!" He rushed forward and wiped some of the dust off of the rusting red canisters. Without hesitation, he tucked his flashlight into his belt, grabbed the canisters, and made for the exit.
"I don't want to waste anymore fuel, man," Naporean was saying as Quetzi plopped the canisters onto the sidewalk. "Not on just one Zed."
"Shit, shit," Green muttered, almost cutting his finger off as his eyes shot from the shard of metal in his hand and the approaching Zed and back again. "Here!" he shouted, thrusting the leather-bound blade into Naporean's hands. "Take that fucker out!"
Naporean put his chainsaw on the ground, took up the makeshift blade, and took off after Rockmonkey, who was only feet away from the Zed.
It happened too fast for even Quetzi to track; Rockmonkey moved in a blur of gray and black, with his sword gleaming in a series of silver arcs. The next moment, the Zed had fallen in a heap of diced flesh, and Rock had crouched down beside it, most likely to whisper one of his trademark lines.
Team Foxtrot
"Almost there guys, keep your eyes peeled," Sars Boy said to his teammates, keeping an eye out behind them.
"Looks clear to the east," Druhim confirmed.
"Roger that. Dru, go ahead and check out what's around the corner. We'll hang back and wait for an all clear before we move for the entrance."
"Roger that, scouting ahead." Dru took off, with Smart Hero, Favlaud, and Sars Boy lagging several paces behind him.
"Shit, I think I hear one of them!" Favvles whispered, his eyes wide and tone fearful. "Don't make too much noise!"
Druhim gestured for him to shut up and edged his way to the corner of the building.
Team Hart
"Run for it, you bastards!" Kong cried as he dodged a second attack from the flaming Zed.
"Something's wrong with Monkeyfeet," Hart insisted. "We can't leave him!"
"Stay with him and I guarantee you fuckers are goners as well," Kong snarled.
"We're fine!" Hart insisted. "You get out of here. Those Zeds are ashes by the time they get to us!" He turned to Homeless. "Go, go, go!"
Moving with a deft finesse such as only Homeless could manage to pull off with five fiery, ferocious foes practically puking onto his face, Team Hart's warrior dove past the two flaming Zeds in front and dodged a swipe from a third. An expert swing from his blade, and the one Zed that had managed to stay fireproof suddenly found itself with nothing but a bloody stump for a head. Without even waiting for his victim's head to hit the ground, Homeless had leapt out and away from the rest of the Zeds to rejoin his team, his neck and cheek stained with the black blood of the kill.
======
Fuck all that was hard to compile. Doesn't leave much wiggle room, hah.
Wish you'd made that earlier so tracking that round would've been easier, HAH.
:P
(May I ask why?)
ASH is re-recruiting rockmonkey. Yeah, that's right. We can do that.
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Cause, you're enthusiastic about the game, and also not retarded.
AND AZN BEWBS LAWL
(he wants someone to bone)