Considering a Zombie Game... ooh, original. yeah, right.

Started by Caustic, December 08, 2007, 01:39:23 AM

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Caustic

Copyright (c) Caustic's sick dreamscape, (tm).

So, I'm considering a zombie-themed game.  The gimmick: the 'mutation anomaly' coincides with New Year's Eve, in Times Square, New York.  So we're talking 300-400,000 people swarmed, infected, in a condensed area.

Skyscrapers would become bastions for groups of survivors, who become desperate, perhaps insane, as days and weeks slip away, and they're driven up, battle by battle, until there's nothing but sky, wind, and the temptation of a long, final drop.

Thematic elements include prolonged tension, bursts of combat action, creative solutions to problems, and interpersonal relationships forged in stressful situations.

I'd like to see this approached less as a game, but more as a co-written story.  I prefer full paragraphs, careful writing, extensive sensory detail, and patience.  I will be fairly slow; I will try to write daily, but must be very patient.  Violence will be depicted with graphic description, and isn't to be mingled with killing partners as per site rules... however, since this is a horror game, the situations will be more like the content of an NC-17 film, I'd expect.

Small group, no system-- again, lots of description preferred.

Thanks for reading.
Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember but the story. -Tim O'Brien

Sabby


Silvester

Hmm, I've never tried anything of the sort. Sounds fun, I wanna try!

Caustic

Alright, alright, SLOW DOWN, people.  Christ on a crutch.  Too much chatter here.

So.  In the interest of increasing the victim pool, I'm tossing out a brief introduction paragraph.

Between Sixth and Eighth avenue, running a three-block trench from West 40th to West 53rd, there are eight-hundred and seventy-six thousand people contained in an area measuring 800,000 square feet.  Police cars line the area, stationed like military check-points, ready to respond.  Order on the fringes of a cacophony of massive speakers blasting music in time with a live celebrity's lip-synching, plastic horns, flashes of digital cameras and sloshing of clear plastic cups.  Food papers and plastic cups litter the ground here and there as winter wind stirs it from city corner to corner.

Searchlights blaze skyward, projecting columns of light like God's puppet strings, dancing across the night sky as if searching for an air raid this country's never seen.  Massive, luminous advertisements of athletes, cars, sports teams, networks, underwear models and mega-corporations loom overhead, a panoramic slideshow of pop-cultural mnemonic memory cues.   The effect is numbng, and, combined with the glow of the massive HD screen's pre-edited broadcast of the pseudo-live show going on below, serves to cast a blue glow upon everything... amber lights of the post modern era shifting weakly, smoothly, to the blue of the plasmascreen era.

An ambulance hisses over the blacktop, sparing the siren to avoid panic, its white polish gleaming a slot-arcade of lights as it turns into the street.  Twin streams of fog roll from the nostrils of a horse as a half-dozen mounted officers round the corner of a steel pedestrian barricade, past a knot of as they move to rejoin the ocean of revelers like mercury drawn to its mass.  A young man in a goose-down vest, his crew-cut hair beginning to recede as he approaches his thirties, laughs with his girlfriend, a pretty brunette dressed in a faux-fur ruffed winter coat, her cheek emblazoned with a faintly-smeared blue and white '20*08', her cheeks and nose faintly flushed, like his, from late December chill and Jack Daniels.  The young man's Timberland shoes cross the pebbled, blaze-yellow of a traffic lane, a thick-browed officer checks their wristbands.   They're waved through by the officer's leather-gloved hand, holding his radio's mouthpiece as he delivers a status report with broad Brooklyn vowels.

The crowd surges, cheers louder... an NBC camera and a New Japan camera glide smoothly by on self-lifted, remote-powered blimps, beaming digital pictures over secured wifi.  The crowd gimmicks for them, postures with celebratory gestures and ecstatic, inebriated cries.  The stage on the massive screen shows a pop star... certainly a very famous one, her identity, however, not immediately clear... wearing what appears to be designer underwear and snow boots.  The stage, heated by domed burners, is a balmy seventy degrees; the stage seems to actually steam, viewed in the right light.

People typically glad to step gently on one's prostrate face to reach their destinations lock arms, cheer, sing together, pass drinks around and tell jokes with poor delivery.  A woman with gaudy gold-sequined coat dances in an awkward waltz with a cigar-smoking, toboggan-sporting transportation worker.  A half-dozen college-age boys pass a stained white pizza box back and forth; their New Year's resolution having been, evidently, to participate in recycling efforts, they use the cardboard to pass Dixie-cups of Jello-shooters back and forth.  A young woman in a black trenchcoat with green hair accepts one, gives a college-boy a kiss on the cheek with her black-painted lips.  A bagpipe plays somewhere, but is more an undercurrent of noise to the digital-produced synth-pop over the massive speakers.  And the famous, massive globe of lights twinkles giddily over it all, the master of ceremonies emblazoned 2007, eager to fall to its knees for a final rest, to relinquish the burden of so much incomprehensible madness among humanity to another year.

It's just a number... New York, 2008.  California, 1849.  Hawaii, 1941.  Sarajevo, 1914.  Berlin, 1989.  New York, 2001.  London, 2002. 

New York, 2008.  One point on the crust of the earth.  One frayed twist in the braid of centuries.  Just a speck, a moment, a blink in the expanding reach of the big fucking bang.

The ball is falling... the lights on it are like a madman's EEG, a frenzy of white flickers and flashes.  The crowd screams, some of them... many haven't noticed the countdown yet.  "TEN--" 

Faces turn upward, watching the ritual transpire; the traditional fall of the year, the rise of a new.  "NINE--"  Wishes, promises, taxes and illnesses.   "EIGHT--"  for some, new careers, new families, new dreams, new hopes.  "SEVEN--"  New griefs, new trials.  Jobs lost, loved ones ill, hearts broken.  "SIX--"

The crowd surges, screams of anticipation.  Squawking over the police radios, hard to make out over the noise.

"FIVE--"  Everyone now, chanting with the mob-mentality that this must be done, this is what it's all for.

"FOUR--"  Strange cries in the South Plaza, riotous activity.  Police are being disp--

"THREE--"  --patched to investigate a potential--

"TWO--" --outbreak of vio--

"ONE--"  --lence, SWAT notified, begin lock down--




The funny thing about zero, is: it lasts forever.  There can only be two, or three, or five million for so long; they're just ideas, really.  Just quantifications.  But the purest idea is zero.

Numbers are elusive, really.  When you drop a milliliter of sodium into a controlled unit of H2O, the result is violent; we can point at the first molecule to meet the water as a point of origin, but when it explodes, does it really matter anymore where it started?  It can't be undone, not repackaged one reaction at a time.  The nova of heat and steam can't be put back in its box. 


There was blood and noise, screams of panic.  Every animal-core of every mind snapped to the shadowy fear of a terrorist act.  Who knows?  Perhaps, ultimately, there was some devious plan to release the infection at this event.  This, however, is doubtful; something of its nature would have, must have, appeared before.

The speculation among survivors wandered this path, blaming outside agents, foreign governments, blaming domestic poisons or scientific irresponsibility.  But the cause is nothing; what matters is the aftermath, as with all such acts.  The agenda of the killer is pointless; the result matters.

The infection was virulent in ways unprecedented in nature.  It was wildfire in a sea of dry stalks, leaping from person to person, surging back on itself, swallowing thousands in a fluid arm of corruption in just minutes.  Bloodstained faces, broken bodies littered the pavement, an army of mad, bloodthirsty beings left in the wake of the domino-fall of bodies.  Fires broke out, shots were fired.  Riot police barricaded the area, cordoned off whole blocks... but the epicenter was too large.  The CDC held out for two days before operations "failed".  After that, it was anarchy.  The biggest army God had ever seen, and it was an army of the dead.



Ok, tired, just an idea, something to think about and set the mood.  Please start forwarding character ideas.

Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember but the story. -Tim O'Brien

Lirliel

"Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits."

"A minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection."

Valerian

I am official now.  Er, I mean officially interested in being forced into a bitter struggle for survival against a grim army of the dead.  That's it.
"To live honorably, to harm no one, to give to each his due."
~ Ulpian, c. 530 CE

Caustic

Thank you all for your interest... and patience. 

To get started, I'd like to give you 2 questionnaires.   One about what you'd like as a player, one to get you thinking about your character.  Answer via the forum, unless there's something you'd rather me know quietly, in which case PM is welcome.

As a player...
Please rate the following elements from one to 10 with your level of interest for this story, with 1 being 'Ew, yucky, I'm gonna go play X-Box' and 10 being 'ooh, I just came in my pants'. 
1)  Being 'the hero'  ...ie, through the eight-foot glass doors, barricaded with rebar, cubicle reinforcements, broken furniture, you see a (fine-boned girl, spotted puppy with a limp, member of clergy with parental characteristics) staggering helplessly, the writhing mob of zombies honing in, constricting on (him/her/it) like a steady, ragged fist.  Screaming to the others to run-- fortify the barricades-- you rush out, bringing your staplegun to bear on the barreling hordes...
2)  Being 'rescued' ...see above, insert your character into the parentheses
3)  Betraying your allies ... I saw her slink into the executive offices with Conrad... that cocky bastard... she thinks he'll protect her from them, but he's going to get us ALL killed with this crazy scheme... too bad he needs that insulin daily... maybe his supplies will run out sooner than expected...
4)  Combat... ie, I want splatter.  Prolonged, repeated, splatter.  Like a Blue Man Group show with hammers and fire-axes, aerosol-can bombs and oak desks dropped from 12 stories up...
5)  Horror... Running the gamut from jump-scares to gritty, horrific personal tragedy.
6)  Gore... Zombies are cool cause they're like dead and gross and stuff.
7)  Sex... the ocean of zombies outside may be moaning for brains, but I be moaning for nuuuub up here in the 42nd story weight room.
8)  Humor... I write all of my ooc stuff with a slightly twisted blend of sardonic dryness and flat-out weirdness, but in-game I tend to be more serious.  Doesn't mean that humor can't be part of the deal.

A-KAY!  Enough of that.  If you don't want to answer all the questions, just TELL me what you're looking for and we'll roll with it.

Now, for the character... some things to consider:
1)  Where was your character born?
2)  How did he/she end up in Manhattan?  Were you AT the New Year's party?
3)  Where does he/she work?  Like to eat?  Buy clothes?  Sleep at night?
4)  What kind of relationships has your character had?
5)  When facing a zombie apocalypse, to whom, or to what, will his/her mind turn?
6)  How will he/she react to seeing something in real life that most people can't even fathom?
7)  What will you be carrying in your purse, pockets, backpack, trunk..? 
8)  What's the worst thing he/she's ever done to someone?
9)  When did he/she first fall in love?  Go to school? 
Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember but the story. -Tim O'Brien

Sabby

Questionaire 1

1) 6
2) 9
3) 1
4) 10!!! Loves me a blood bath!
5) 7
6) 10!!! Because, as said before, I loves me my blood baths.
7) 2
8) 4


Questionaire 2

1) He was born in a middle class area locally
2) He lives there, so he might as well attend.
3) An ordinary job stacking shelves
4) He's just lost his gf in a car accident a month back. Hes at the New Years because hes only now starting to heal.
5) Duh, his girl
6) He'll really be useless, but he'll learn, and he'll something, or someone to live for, and protect.
7) His wallet and a mobile phone.
8) Uhmm... ignored a puppy?
9) He's just graduated from school and his lost love lasted about 2 years.

RubySlippers

1)  5
2)  4
3)  2
4)  5
5)  5
6)  10
7)  10
8)  5

Now, for the character... some things to consider:
1)  New York City
2)  Was evading some black helicoptors trying to find her since she fell off the grid.
3)  Works as a street minister, eats at wherever its cheap including dumpster diving, lives wherever there is no rent and get stuff the Freegan way off the refuse of society.
4)  Fucks around when she is horny and is cute but a bit of a nutcase.
5)  The secret plot that started the mess its government experiments or the wrath of God or both, so will tend to turn to herself.
6)  Is a paranoid individual thinking the government is evil and most of the strange stories of folklore might be real, seeing zombies was just expected by her.
7)  A little of everything some clothes, books on conspiracy theories, a well-worn bible, cross, some food and over-the-counter medicine, some cash, her ULC ordination card.
8) Burned down a government building she though was used for reading minds (was really a library for the blind)
9)  Age 16 with an older woman, she attended high school and her theology degrees from what amounts from a diploma mill (did require some work) and has her ordination from the Universal Life Church, but does read a great deal at the libraries so is pretty smart. Also took a First Aid Course with CPR and basic self-defense from the Red Cross. Has also some survivalist training including guns and is well read in the conspiracy theory sites but uses Library Computers since she can't risk the government from tracing her.

Lirliel

1)  Being 'the hero'  ...ie, through the eight-foot glass doors, barricaded with rebar, cubicle reinforcements, broken furniture, you see a (fine-boned girl, spotted puppy with a limp, member of clergy with parental characteristics) staggering helplessly, the writhing mob of zombies honing in, constricting on (him/her/it) like a steady, ragged fist.  Screaming to the others to run-- fortify the barricades-- you rush out, bringing your staplegun to bear on the barreling hordes... (4)
2)  Being 'rescued' ...see above, insert your character into the parentheses (4)
3)  Betraying your allies ... I saw her slink into the executive offices with Conrad... that cocky bastard... she thinks he'll protect her from them, but he's going to get us ALL killed with this crazy scheme... too bad he needs that insulin daily... maybe his supplies will run out sooner than expected... (8)
4)  Combat... ie, I want splatter.  Prolonged, repeated, splatter.  Like a Blue Man Group show with hammers and fire-axes, aerosol-can bombs and oak desks dropped from 12 stories up... (3)
5)  Horror... Running the gamut from jump-scares to gritty, horrific personal tragedy. (8)
6)  Gore... Zombies are cool cause they're like dead and gross and stuff. (6)
7)  Sex... the ocean of zombies outside may be moaning for brains, but I be moaning for nuuuub up here in the 42nd story weight room. (3)
Cool  Humor... I write all of my ooc stuff with a slightly twisted blend of sardonic dryness and flat-out weirdness, but in-game I tend to be more serious.  Doesn't mean that humor can't be part of the deal. (3)

1)  Where was your character born? Staten Island
2)  How did he/she end up in Manhattan?  Were you AT the New Year's party? She went there with a male friend and working Colleague, in the center, watching the great bulb go down.
3)  Where does he/she work?  Like to eat?  Buy clothes?  Sleep at night? She works in a department store in the city, she likes to eat Indonesian food and her clothing sense is just basic really, a bit of a run of the mill kind of clothing. And she has some trouble sleeping.
4)  What kind of relationships has your character had? Mostly one night stands with a long reaching relationship that broke off two months ago.
5)  When facing a zombie apocalypse, to whom, or to what, will his/her mind turn? To her boyfriend, seeing as in her heart she still loves him..
6)  How will he/she react to seeing something in real life that most people can't even fathom? Mostly she'll be quiet with shock, but will move with the crowd until she can get her sanity back again, when she does she'll move with the group, seeing as she's certainly not a leader.
7)  What will you be carrying in your purse, pockets, backpack, trunk..? Her mobile phone, lipstick, pair of shades, tazer as well. That's about it.
Cool  What's the worst thing he/she's ever done to someone? Accidently gotten someone fired, she had knocked over a large display with expensive purfume and then incriminated someone else, an intern for doing it.
9)  When did he/she first fall in love?  Go to school? She fell in true deep love when she was sixteen, with a relationship easily reaching five years, with a few ons and offs, also she went to a normal grade school, highschool but never attended college.
"Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits."

"A minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection."

Caustic

For those of you who've replied so far: thank you very much.

I'd also like to apologize for the excess of smileys with sunglasses.  I put an 8 next to a parenthesis and I get... that?  Emoticons are eroding our society.

I'm starting to get a picture of your characters.  If you change your mind about a particular concept or detail, please let me know.  I ran out of time posting the questions earlier... apologies.

Please have ready, or PM me, the following.

(last list, promise)

1 ) Character name
2 ) Description: eyes, hair, skin tone, build, clothing, and-- if not already noted-- carried items.
3 ) Concept summary in 12 words or less.

I'm requesting a thread be created, and will post a link ASAP.  Any questions, concerns, etc. can be sent to me... just ask, request, suggest what you like. 

FINALLY--
I know that E's all about openness and non-exclusion, but: not everyone's style will match the game.  If it isn't working out, then I may nix your character.  Sorry in advance, and I won't do so without warning.  Of course, everyone gets a chance.  Hope it goes well for everyone.
Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember but the story. -Tim O'Brien

Sabby

Looking forward to this ^_^

1) James Cottee
2) short, lithe, with healthy blond hair cut short and with a very thin pony tail at the back, three fingers long. Dark blue eyes. Was wearing a set of white hooded jacket and black jeans. Carrying only his phone and wallet, with his hidden locket and picture of his gf.
3) Timid, but fiercely loyal and caring.

Lirliel

1 ) Marsha Dulong
2 ) Deep Blue Sea eyes, hair done into two different colors, her own deep black, almost raven and sparkles of red thrown through there. Pale white face, slender built though worked out, black coat, blue jeans, NYU sweater and a shawl around her neck with her name braided into it. Also her purse and cell-phone/tazer etc.
3 ) Quick to trust some, quick to hate others. Not a leader.
"Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits."

"A minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection."

Caustic

#13
OK-- First thread is up, ooc.  Will also provide a setup IC-- if not tonight, then tomorrow. 

Thanks for your interest, and I'll cue you up soon. 
https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=12142.msg487309#msg487309
Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember but the story. -Tim O'Brien

Valerian

Yeah, I know, took me long enough....

1.  Being 'the hero' 4
2.  Being 'rescued' 7
3.  Betraying your allies 2
4.  Combat 3
5.  Horror 8
6.  Gore 4
7.  Sex 4
8.  Humor 5


Born and raised in a small midwestern town, now attending college in upstate New York.

In Manhattan for the party, as part of a brief stopover en route to Europe.

Has a part time job at a bookstore; tends to always eat the same foods as much as possible; hates buying clothes anywhere and does it as little as possible; sleeps in a dorm room that she has to share.

Left behind her high school sweetheart to go to college.  Has avoided relationships since.

Her family; the future.

After the initial shock, she'll try to be as practical as possible, taking everything one step at a time.

Backpack, containing change of clothes, toothbrush, etc.; books; notebook and pens; money; traveller's checks.

She's been lying to her family for some time now about her plans for the future...

The aforementioned high school sweetheart was her first big love.


Sarah Malloy

Dark brown hair, short and straight; green eyes; pale skin; thin; about five and a half feet tall.

Quiet, determined, thoughtful, distant but not unfriendly.
"To live honorably, to harm no one, to give to each his due."
~ Ulpian, c. 530 CE