The Unseen (post apocalyptic horror story) actively seeking, all players welcome

[Chreestafer]

I'm going to PM a few people tonight, but the story should be starting this week!!!! :)

[Chreestafer]

Hey all, sorry I've been quiet lately.  Really life has been ruthless to me :(

My plan is to get things up and going for this game this evening. The game is still accepting also!

[Eliza]

Name:  Marianne Chiu
Age:  25
Gender:  Female
Afflicted or Unafflicted:  Afflicted
Feelings toward Afflicted:  mildly sympathetic
Appearance:

Personality:  As a person who mostly keeps to herself, Marianne is very cautious when meeting new people, having gotten off on the wrong foot one too many times. In the presence of colleagues, she is vigilant and will only show favorable emotions to those closest to her.
Sexual Orientation:  Straight
Bio:  As a person who had everything going for her, Marianne could have been the most joyous person who walked the face of the earth, but with the onset of the Affliction, she was the only one of her family to start showing symptoms of the rash. Her family had not been sympathetic at all, with their thinking that their family was genetically superior and with the providence of modern technology and medicine, thought they were invincible, even to this new disease. She got sick really quick after her 21st birthday and immediately after her parents found out, they disowned her, disappointed that she was the only one to contract the virus. Soon after, they kicked her out of the house and even reported her to the CDC, who took her in for testing.

She didn't develop into any of the later stages, but that didn't stop an unauthorized offshoot of the organization to use Marianne as a lab rat. She was cured and re-infected over the course of three years, developing a natural, if not forced, immunity to the virus. When progress did not continue, they simply kept her contained in her cell until tragedy broke out. Marianne found that all the containment cells had been unlocked and the facility she was in had lost power due to a distant power grid being wiped out by nuclear arms fire. Marianne was able to escape with her life, though others met a horrifying fate as the military came in to contain the breakout.

Free from that place that used her to useless testing, as there was no way to eradicate the virus medically or chemically without the option of obliterating all of mankind, Marianne wasn't free from her trauma or the affliction that was her constant companion for the last four years. People stayed away, seeing the injection marks on her arms, scars she will have for a lifetime.
Weapons:  A samurai sword she looted from a house, virtually unused, and is more like a token than a weapon. Anything long and rigid that she can get her hands on.
Gear:  A medium knapsack, hiking boots, clothes (pictured), headlamp, loose wristband contained her identification of her containment cell, parka for heavy rain, hand-cuffs (mostly for herself, in the event she turns into Unseen)
Fears:  Of recognizing her family as the Unseen
Casual ons:  Rooftops, sketching people in her sketchpad
Casual offs:  Bullies, especially towards afflicted.
Sexual ons:  Dominant men. Anal.
Sexual offs:  Bathroom stuff. Vore. Excessive violence. Dismemberment

Additional Photos

[TheHangedOne]

Hey, Chrees; and everybody else, too  ;). I've caught some sort of nasty stomach bug; I'll spare the details. I'm pretty under the weather, though, so posting quality and quantity may be sporadic for a little while, while I rest up.  But I am looking forward to this game getting a proper launch.

[Narianna]

Hey all, sorry I've been quiet lately.  Really life has been ruthless to me :(

My plan is to get things up and going for this game this evening. The game is still accepting also!

I hope things are going better for you!

[Chreestafer]

Hey all, the plan is to definitely get this story set up soon.  Had really rough week and went away for the weekend and shut my phone off.  I. Back and somewhat rejuvenated a bit.  So I'm hoping tomorrow night is the kickoff! :)

[Eliza]

*peeks in to see if the owner is around*

[Chreestafer]

hey all, I do apologize for my absence do to real life issues :(

I am back however! YAY ME! so would everyone please move your characters to the character acceptance thread if you haven't already.

also we're still looking for players, so anyone new wish to post up a character here ill go through them!

thanks all!

Ill have the into thread up once everyone posts to the CS thread! :)

[Eliza]

Oh okay. Forgot to do that.

He's alive everyone!

[Kokaine]

Check.

[Chreestafer]

Update:

My good friend here, The Hanged Man, has signed on as a co-gm.  So any questions can be answered by either one of us.  :)

[Anouk Daae]

Name: Alexandra Rodriguez
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Afflicted or Unafflicted: Afflicted
Feelings toward Afflicted: "I'm just like you but with a rash. It itches, but it's not herpes."
Appearance:
- Brown hair
- Brown eyes
- Olive skin
- Rash along her right arm
Personality:
- occasionally talks to herself
- compassionate to those who know her
- clever albeit eccentric
- goal-oriented
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Weapons:
- Chef Knife
- Santoku Knife
- Birds Beak Knife
- Pairing Knife
- Utility Knife
- Jump rope tied with sharpened stones and a pairing knife at the end (make-shift steel-whip)

Gear:
- Bobble (water bottle with a filter)
- 1lb jar of Skippy peanut butter
- two cans of tuna
- a lighter
- 1 4-pack AA batteries
- 1 8-pack of protein bars
- 2 changes of clothes
- Black Jansport Backpack
- Steel-toed slip-resistant boots (black)
Fears:
- The Unseen
- Being eaten alive
- Ghosts
- Parasites
Casual ons:
- Ingenuity
- Hard-workers
- Compassion
Casual offs:
- Laziness
- Stupidity
- Apathy
Sexual ons:
- Confidence
- Competence
- Comfort
Sexual offs:
- Insecurity
- Head-games
- Laziness
Bio:

   Alexandra grew up in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn with her mom and her abuela. The community was tight-knit, if not a bit...rough. Her father bailed when she was four, and her mother hasn't seen a child support check since she was six. That's about when they moved in with her abuelita. Thin walls made her home possibly the worst place to study, and just about everyone expected her to get knocked up and drop out of high school by the time she was 15. Alex had other plans.

  She'd always loved helping out in the kitchen. Had a job working at a deli a block from her building until she graduated. She spent hours in the school library, struggling with the dial-up connection to find every food festival in the Tri-State Area. By the time she graduated, she had the grades and network to apply to the CIA. Culinary Institute of America. Arguably the best school of its kind in the country, possibly in the entire continent. Tuition was the real issue. She got partial scholarships for being Hispanic and for living in a low-income neighborhood, another for having a more-or-less ignored drop of "Native American" in her genes (Taino, Arawak Nation).

   The rest was up to her. Any competitions at school to earn extra cash, she commuted to school, bought her knife kit and uniform second hand from a drop-out. While her classmates, mostly rich kids who figured cooking school wasn't real college, dicked off, partying in their dorms, and finding the next way to deep-fry twinkies while high - she stayed on her hustle. An instructor got her a stage at an Italian bisto near 37th street, she aced it and got a job as their prep cook. The rest? Well, that's what Financial Aid was for, right?

  All in all, she was happy. Busy, exhausted, but happy. She was going to get out of that neighborhood, move her mom and abuela into a nice apartment where they wouldn't have to work so hard. Her instructors believed in her. Every day off was spent volunteering at urban co-ops, learning every single aspect of her industry. Farm to table, farm to factory - didn't matter. She was a sponge for it all.

   The day the virus really messed with her was a quiet Tuesday afternoon. She was in the living room, building a small hydroponics system for her balcony so she could grow some herbs. The TV was on, low volume, just white noise so she could focus. The door to their apartment swung open after the sound of scratching and keys jingling, before her grams toppled into the kitchen table. Her family didn't have insurance, couldn't afford it. So when her mom saw her abuela bleeding from the arm, she rushed into action. First aid kit, dried herbs that stunk up the place, an a tourniquet make out of a kitchen towel. Oddly, the bleeding stopped fairly quickly, allowing her mother to sew it up.

  Class was canceled after that, postponed indefinitely the email had said. Back before emails went dark. Doña Ivy got sick, staying in her bedroom most of the time. Alex and her mother traded shifts between taking care of her and being glued to the TV. Two days later, the news told them there was a city-wide mandatory evacuation. Bus lines would run on a volunteer basis only. Her mom was in the bedroom when Alexandra heard a loud crash, followed by a scream. Rushing into the bedroom, she saw her grandmother getting up off the bed, but her eyes...they weren't right. Her mom was the quick thinker in that situation. Pushing her own mother back, Alex's mom rushed out of the room and shut the door.

  Without a word, she went to Alex's room and packed up some clothes into her backpack, rushing into the kitchen next to put whatever canned goods they had left in there too. Shoving them into Alex's arms, she yelled at Alex to leave before turning to the stove and putting a wad of paper towels on a bite bleeding on the palm of her hand. When Alex tried to hug her, to insist she wasn't leaving, the banging came from the other side of her abuela's bedroom door. A frail woman to begin with, it sounded like she'd fallen against the door.

From the reports, they knew that some people turned right away. "No tienes tiempo, mija!" her mother kept insisting. "Maldita sea, estúpida, ve!" Grabbing a potted plant off a shelf, her mother threw it at her head. No time for tears or goodbyes, she picked up her backpack and knife kit and shut the door behind her. On all sides of the hallway in her building, she could hear her neighbors screaming and yelling, glass breaking, that low-strained gargle just out of ear-shot.

Running down the stairs and into the street, she met up with her Tío Tito. Not really her uncle, but close enough to her abuela that he was considered family. He had his van outside, usually used for picking up parts at the junkyard and fixing appliances. Now, it was full of the neighborhood elderly and a few boxes of food. One look at her told him everything he needed to know. With a quick hug, he motioned for her to sit anywhere there was room. Nine other people stuffed on top of each other in the back of that van, but they made it work.

Telling everyone to hang on, he booked it out of the city. Their luck didn't run out until they were in the countryside. Gas was fine, it was the traffic that did them in. Patrols and military personnel kept the line of cars moving slowly along. Then the screaming started. From a window, Alex could see people getting out of their cars and running between the vehicles could two miles per hour on the interstate. Then the guns went off. Military shooting at infected or living people alike, they all looked deranged and dangerous in their flights.

  Then the roar. Starting as a low-hum before the ground started shaking. A few cars started veering around to go off-road, most of them ending stuff in ditches before the horde overtook them. From the driver's seat, she heard Tito yell "¡Salí! ¡Correr!" He'd already undone his seat-belt and was getting out of the van. When the sliding door opened, he started helping out the viejos and pointing to the tree line for them to run into there.

   For the rest of her life, she would regret what she did next. Grabbing her bags, she did what she was told and ran, only stopping when she found a tree she could scramble up. By the time she was up to safety, she looked back to see who else she could help up, only to see that the the elderly, and her uncle, had only made it halfway to the treeline before the horde got them.

  The next few days, she stayed up in that tree, quietly, holding her bladder until she felt sick. The Unseen ambled around the area for a while, picking off stragglers before finally continuing their migration west. A week later, limbs stiff, she made her way back to the ground and took off deeper into the trees. Eventually, she found a small group of traveling humans. Some afflicted but not turning, others showing no signs either way. Her own arm had been infected a few weeks back, but the thick denim jacket she wore covered the angry red marks in her flesh.

  They never stayed anywhere for long, which was for the best. Setting down roots made people feel safe. Safety made them lazy. Laziness killed. Always one half-step ahead of a group of Cannibals. Not Unseen, but actual people eating people. The thought kept her up most nights.

Additional Photos

[Anouk Daae]

Also, I know you have more females than males. I'm 100% fine with just playing a friend, side character.
I really love playing post-apocalyptic characters who develop through plot, so no worries about her coupling off with anyone.
Right now, her goal is not dying, way less focused on propagating the species if you get my drift.
Just point me in the direction where you'd like the plot to go, and I'll do what I can.
Assuming, of course, that she's accepted.

[Eliza]

Oh, I need to post my sheet in the other thread

[Chreestafer]

I plan on getting the OOC up and running for those in the game as of now.

Also, I know you have more females than males. I'm 100% fine with just playing a friend, side character.
I really love playing post-apocalyptic characters who develop through plot, so no worries about her coupling off with anyone.
Right now, her goal is not dying, way less focused on propagating the species if you get my drift.
Just point me in the direction where you'd like the plot to go, and I'll do what I can.
Assuming, of course, that she's accepted.

The game is going to be more of a heavy survival / horror style story anyways. So dont feel any pressure on having to "have sex" in the story. The smug aspect will be there, yes.  However it isnt a main point.

That being said, welcome aboard Anouk, go ahead and post her in the character sheet section.

[Anouk Daae]

Sweet! Thank you!

I mean, I'm open to smut in a story if it happens. But I would rather everyone else get their's first, ya know?

[Chreestafer]

Here is the OOC everyone :)

https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=293258.0

[Chajesdad]

Color me interested, but the concept is a bit off. The Walking Dead co-star Daryl (some might say star), Norman Reedus survived the Hollywood purge as the collapse of civilization by "Walkers" and worse occurred. Recognition, people skills, and an over-all tough guy reputation has won him quick acceptance into the groups he has crossed, though surprising is his education and true skill sets, apparently acting as a wilderness savvy character rubs off on a guy. Actually he studied general truths to add realism to the role. As such he is a skilled knife fighter (not professional), able to fire crossbow (more than competent skill), rifle, and pistol with proficiency, knows the barest basics of tracking, has an actor's endurance (considerable), and skilled with public speaking. I see him filling less the outlaw role, and more the liason/leader role, perhaps trainer.

I have other concepts, but to take a person that is recognized as a character, and putting him into a similar circumstance, I want to explore this avenue of life. (Yes, I intend to give him a crossbow. You can't not look cool with a crossbow.)

[TheHangedOne]

Color me interested, but the concept is a bit off. The Walking Dead co-star Daryl (some might say star), Norman Reedus survived the Hollywood purge as the collapse of civilization by "Walkers" and worse occurred. Recognition, people skills, and an over-all tough guy reputation has won him quick acceptance into the groups he has crossed, though surprising is his education and true skill sets, apparently acting as a wilderness savvy character rubs off on a guy. Actually he studied general truths to add realism to the role. As such he is a skilled knife fighter (not professional), able to fire crossbow (more than competent skill), rifle, and pistol with proficiency, knows the barest basics of tracking, has an actor's endurance (considerable), and skilled with public speaking. I see him filling less the outlaw role, and more the liason/leader role, perhaps trainer.

I have other concepts, but to take a person that is recognized as a character, and putting him into a similar circumstance, I want to explore this avenue of life. (Yes, I intend to give him a crossbow. You can't not look cool with a crossbow.)

Crossbows are pretty nice. Smart choice, too; most of the arrows can be salvaged if you know what you're doing, and you're lucky. The main drawback is reload time.

Then again, I'm also playing the guy with a throwing axe.  ;D

Ultimately it's up to Chrees, but I do like the idea you're working with.

[Chreestafer]

Crossbows are pretty nice. Smart choice, too; most of the arrows can be salvaged if you know what you're doing, and you're lucky. The main drawback is reload time.

Then again, I'm also playing the guy with a throwing axe.  ;D

Ultimately it's up to Chrees, but I do like the idea you're working with.

I trust THMs thoughts on this.  Go ahead and work up a character sheet and post it here for us to review :)

[Chajesdad]

Name:       Norman Reedus
Age:      49
Gender:   Male
Afflicted or Unafflicted:Unafflicted
Feelings toward Afflicted:Resources, they are immune to the bite, use them as shields and weapons against the Unseen, extremely lesser degree he likes to think he sees them as people to be held at a distance.
Appearance:   Rough and tumble, two day stubble, goatee,
Personality:   Strong and respected, he keeps himself calm and scripted, allowing himself to respond as needed often. He loves the attention that his former status and popularity provide, though knows that he is not the character that everyone is seeing. Having done research to flesh out the character and authenticate the skills of the rugged, zombie-survivor that he is expected to be, Norman also sees others expecting more than he can provide. His need for the adoration discourages him from setting them straight, and he concocts excuses for why his skills fall short. Norman hates himself for living the lie, knowing that others have died expecting him to be able to keep them alive, also realizing that if others realize he is a fake, he will be cast out. He is Daryl Dixon.
Sexual Orientation:Loves him some women, though stays aloof to keep down jealousy.

Bio:      Norman Reedus was born in Hollywood, Florida, to Marianne and Norman Reedus. A moderate student, he found himself working odd jobs trying to break into the silver screen. A surprising option came for him as he was asked to join a play. This opened him to movies and eventually the TV series The Walking Dead. He made his name there, as his following grew from exposure and a consistent bad boy with a golden heart series of roles.    

     When the fit hit the shan, Norman was on-site filming the next season of The WAlking Dead, they had a new crew and were working out new relationship dynamics and possibilities after four of the previous seasons prime actors had succumbed to the disease. Life was trying, humanity wanted familiar, even if it was a little close to the reality they had suffered. They had no idea…

   The first thought was publicity stunt, or gathering stunt by the makeup and stunt artists, but that quickly changed as the vicious attacks of the “Walker” was too real, no touch up would be needed post-production. Norman abandoned the show as did many others. His trusted crossbow in hand, Norman raced east and up the coast, where he found that New York Island was barred from traffic. The epidemic was in full swing again. Norman kept in contact with his son Mingus by the cell service, but was not allowed across the barriers.

   Norman worked with a refugee camp outside the metropolis, as he kept in contact, always seeking a way to get to Mingus. The young man had taken in several friends and a few strays, always assuring his dad he was being careful, but they needed him. Things in New York proper were getting bad.

   Then one night, as Mingus and he spoke, there was a commotion at the apartment, An Unseen was at the door, pounding away, then another, then another. The splintering of the door was one of the last sounds as the phone fell to the floor and was stepped on in the panic.

   That night, New York fell, but rather than flee, Norman joined a group of refugees that were returning to the island to find family. He found his apartment the next day after surviving a day that resembled many sets he had worked in the last few years. It wasn’t real yet, though his crossbow bolts were upgraded from the safety bolts on set to true bolts he had used in practice. Trained to alway recover the bolts, he habitually continued. His apartment was trashed, a pile of bodies, two torn beyond recognition, one unseen was broken, crawling with a single arm, the other broken, the spine shattered. Norman hasn’t found proof of his son’s survival, with many of the torn parts and people wearing his clothes. With no hope, and no answers, he had to get clear of the mega-city. He grabbed a few day’s food, but noticed that his personal crossbow was gone from his closet. He scoured the apartment quickly again, but no, it was gone. He left a message on the inside of the door where the food was left. A trail if his son could follow. Florence, New Jersey Watertower.

Norman made his way out of New York, regrouping with only one of the people he had come in, and her little sister. The sister had been bitten, Norman tried to get them out, but it was lost, the sister burned with fever before turning on them. Norman walked away from this one too.

Weapons: Crossbow, 6 bolts, (3 usable, 2 with adequate fletching and heads, one with just the head.) large combat knife on left hip, .38 Smith and Wesson snubnose with 2 rounds in back of his jeans. Six-foot walking stick split-stick on the top, padded with a beaver pelt for a crutch though never shortened.

Gear: backpack, 3 cans of Wolf brand chili, 2 lb ziploc of rice, camp pot,
Fears: finding Mingus, knowing the Unseen,
Casual ons: recognition, willing to follow directions
Casual offs: belligerent, stupid people, groupies.
Sexual ons: adoration (though this is short lived), capable subs, strength, intelligence
Sexual offs: drama, clingy, getting close

Additional Photos

[Amarlo]

Nngg... I'm tempted. I really am. Is this going to be sandboxy at all? It would be neat to play someone's sister, maybe. ;D

[Chreestafer]

@Chajesdad, let read it over and I'll get back to you asap.

Nngg... I'm tempted. I really am. Is this going to be sandboxy at all? It would be neat to play someone's sister, maybe. ;D

You can work out any kind of character you're looking to build :)

Are you looking for a more intimate bro / sis relationship? Or just the connection to tie you into the story? Both are accepted :)

[Amarlo]

You can work out any kind of character you're looking to build :)

Are you looking for a more intimate bro / sis relationship? Or just the connection to tie you into the story? Both are accepted :)

I honestly would be happy with either or! ^^ Sister/bro relationships are one of my kinks - especially twins or older bro + younger sis. HOWEVER, starting out with a sibling - male or female - is just an easy close connection that seems like tons of fun in general. ;D

[TheHangedOne]

I honestly would be happy with either or! ^^ Sister/bro relationships are one of my kinks - especially twins or older bro + younger sis. HOWEVER, starting out with a sibling - male or female - is just an easy close connection that seems like tons of fun in general. ;D

Hihi. I have an idea to throw your way~ Check back earlier in the thread, and you'll see "Hatchet Man". Part of his character development arc is that he's basically starting play in a fugue state (and I am taking a bit of Hollywood-itis with displaying the actual mental illness). Having a sibling with him could actually be very good. His default state at the beginning of the game is meant to be in a sort of "blue screen of death", so having a more rational person there could help assure the rest of the party that "He wasn't always like this", etc.

She wouldn't necessarily need to psychologically diagnose him, or even be the one to bring him out of the state, and help him remember who he was. More like... a handler for a wild animal (at least at the beginning).

It's not a particular kink of mine, just an "I have no strong opinion", but there could room there for something else to develop, too (once he comes out of 'eat, drink, sleep, kill, rinse, repeat'). Just some food for thought; feel free to accept, decline, plot with me on PMs, as you wish.

Also, it's nice to see you around again. How's life been?  ;D