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Post by Lunapocalypse on Nov 18, 2008 7:27:36 GMT -5
When the chaos started a lot of people came here, fueled up, and shipped out of Raccoon City as quickly as possible. It’s unlikely you’ll be able to collect any petrol here anymore, but just incase it’s probably best that you didn’t light a naked flame in the area. It’s probably for the best if you just avoided it all together considering how open it is for a group of zombies to attack you...
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Post by hellhound on Jan 5, 2009 22:32:28 GMT -5
(Justin entering)
A large RV slowly drove up next to the gas station. It had large strips of metal placed all over it as well as a plow attached to the front. It had several dents on it, but its armor looked impressive even to a tank. As the RV parked along side of the building, Justin stepped out and shut the large door. He locked the door with a metallic sound and headed into the gas station. It was surprisingly empty. He expected at least a few. He pulled his book bag off and walked through the store gathering what supplies he could find.
There wasn't much, just a few cans and water bottles. He took only what he could carry and headed back out to the RV. He quickly unlocked and threw the book bag into his mobile fortress before relocking it up with another metallic clang. He slowly strolled over to the gas pumps. One gas handle was laying on the ground in a puddle of fuel. He picked it up and squeezed the handle, to no effect. He began checking the other pumps to make sure that they were truly tapped out and not broken.
Justin had enough fuel to get him out of this nightmare city, but there was always room for more. He had been stuck in the city for over a year now. He had made a few attempts for freedom, but each attempt so far had failed and usually put him in the way of far more danger. This time however, Justin was planing to use his new mobile fortress to force his way out of the city and hope the world outside was better. As he finished checking the pumps, several zombies had descended on his position. He didn't even both to pull out his gun.
He simply walked quickly, yet calmly, back to the RV and opened its armored door. As he got in, a single zombie grabbed the door and tried pulling it open. Justin kicked the door open. The zombie was knocked backwards onto the ground allowing Justin to grab the door handle and slam it shut. With a turn of a handle, the door locked tight and he was back inside his personal oasis. The inside was dimly lit. Not because of less power, but because of his own preference.
It smelled of popcorn and a fresh bowl was waiting for him. He went into the bathroom and washed up. He was already preparing a few snacks to eat while he waited there. He turned on a flat screen television and put in a DVD to watch while he sat on a couch. A dog rested on a doggy bed on the floor next to him. Even though he was in the center of hell, he was living better then most people. He pressed a button on a remote and a large stereo turned on on the roof. Clones by Ash, a rock song could be heard for over a mile. Justin hoped that it would attract other survivors. It also attracted a large horde, but even if the RV was completely surrounded, Justin figured other survivors would be smart enough to signal him somehow.
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Post by Metal Head on Jan 25, 2009 14:08:28 GMT -5
(Nathan Needly Has Entered)
I’d only been driving for a short amount of time, when I noticed the fuel gauge was low. Remembering that I’d forgotten to get gas the day before, I cursed myself and began to look for a place to stop and fill up. It only took me about five minutes to find the only gas station in the city, and carefully I pulled up to the nearest pump and cut off the ignition to the car.
My eyes glassed over the surrounding area carefully, not sure if it was safe to step out as of yet. The station was comprised of four pumps, two on the left and two on the right. I’d parked my BMW on the left side of the last set of pumps, and it gave me a pretty good view of the surrounding area.
The overhead lights above were blindingly bright, but I casually slipped out of my BMW like it was any other day, and briskly walked around the car until I stood in front of the pump, and my car’s fuel tank. While still carefully keeping an eye out, I unscrewed the cap, and pushed the pump handle from it’s hook, and into the tank of the car.
Only a few seconds later, I found myself inside the gas station, carefully walking up each snack isle, trying to find something to satisfy my increasing hunger. I also had to worry about potential survivors, so I grabbed a few plastic bags from behind the counter, and loaded them to the brink with a wide assortment of foods and drinks. When I was stretched to my limit in carrying the bags in either hands, I carefully walked back out to the BMW, popped the trunk, and set the bags down in the trunk.
The tank was about half way full by now, but I could see straggling zombies dragging their corpses towards the station. It was around this time that I heard some sort of rock song, that rang loud through the streets. Though I was surprised I hadn’t heard it earlier, I decided to wait until my tank was full before proceeding on.
One last search through the gas station, and I found myself following a grizzly blood trail that lead from the counter, all the way into a small hallway in the back of the station. Upholstering my Mk.23, I held it loosely in my hands, aiming towards the stain on the floor. What looked like finger marks, and shoe prints made tracks in the almost fresh blood, and I knew that at the end of this trail there would be some poor shmuck zombie in a employee’s uniform.
The trail ended at a thin wooden door, so I tried the knob but it was locked. Checking the two other doors also in the hallway, I found that they too were locked, so I took a step back from the door with the blood trail, and took one big kick at the lock, splintering the surrounding wood and knocking the entire door open.
A wet smack followed the splintering of the wood, and with Mk.23 raised, I burst into the room ready to fight anyone that might get in my way. However, all I found was a heavily decomposed man, who sat just behind the door, the knob of which had slammed itself into his forehead from the force of my kick. His nametag read William, but I tried not to look at him, and holstered my gun once more before leaving the room.
This is not the worst you’ve seen, suck it up big boy, it only gets worse. The voice at the back of my mind whispered gently, almost like a caring mothers voice. It was right, but I didn’t want to believe it. How could this all be happening again? Hadn’t the world seen enough infected blood fill the streets to last the rest of our existence. I guess not.
It was in the main lobby that I now found myself, my palms pressed against the chilly front window. Winter wasn’t as harsh as it had been the year before, and only small piles of snow sat on the embankments beside the roads. The thumping of the distant rock sound vibrated through the windows, and I just stared blankly out past the brightly illuminated gas pumps, and at the dark cold streets, unsure of what would happen next.
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Post by OompaLoompaFan75 on Jan 25, 2009 17:57:13 GMT -5
Logan walked down the road, getting away from Raccoon City was his intentions. But just abandoning Lisa like that? It was just to clear his mind, she would be fine on her own. He wrapped his coat around his arms, crossing them over to try and stay a bit more warm. After what seemed like hours of walking, he finally came upon a gas station, that seemed to be empty. Nearing closer to tward it, he could see that a vehicle was parked at the pump, which meant someboady had either came and left in a hurry, or they were still here. Logan felt anxious to see who it was, if they were still in there, that is. He ran to the door, but as he came closer, he slowed down his pace to a stealth like movement when he saw a figure. Slowely opening the door, he announced his position in a low, calm voice to avoid friendly fire.
"Dont shoot, im not infected... Sorry for the untrusion if you were holding up in here... Freezing my ass off outside!" Logan was never good with people, and quite frankely, he didnt care if he was rude. So long as he ad his sister was alive, and nobody had a problem, life was good. Reaching inside his coat to pull out an old looking .44 revolver, Logan aimed it around the back shelves of the gas station building. He only had enough ammo to save himself, so conservation was upmost important on his part, or in any situation. Reaching the back, he found a Pepsi machine, and then smirked. Pulling gun away, Logan stood a few feet back, and then ran forward into the machine. The plastic cracked upon impact, as the door swung open. "Drinks on the house..."
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Post by Metal Head on Jan 25, 2009 19:11:12 GMT -5
((OOC: Though my first post was in first person, I’m changing to third since that’s the way I wanted to write in the first place for this charrie. Sorry if it’s confusing, just thought I’d try a different writing style for awhile.))
“No, no, I’m not holding up here. I’m just gathering a bit of supplies,” Nathan barely flinched at the mans arrival. It was just common sense that he’d have to meet other people, but so soon? Without taking his eyes from the front window, Nathan watched the man with the reflection on the glass, as he slammed his body into a Pepsi machine, unlatching the cover and exposing the inner workings.
“You know, there’s sliding door freezers right?” Finally turning from the cold glass, Nathan pointed towards the line of glass freezers, filled to the brink with a huge assortment of drinks. Cans and bottles littered the floor where Nathan had rushed to fill the plastic bags with bottles only minutes earlier. Food and drink were two essential things, but Nathan still needed medical supplies for when he went back into the city.
“Where you headed by the way stranger? And I never caught your name,” Nathan thought maybe this man would be able to help him evacuate survivors around the city. He still had a lot to make up for, and only a short amount of time to do it. He’ll just drag you down, he’ll slow you just like everyone else. You know I’m right. The voice had taken a more obnoxious sound, and to Nathan it almost sounded like the voice was making fun of his predicament.
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Post by OompaLoompaFan75 on Jan 25, 2009 21:14:54 GMT -5
[Just so were clear on this, im not really an A-hole in real life Its just my character. No hard feelings ]Logan snatched a Pepsi Max from the machine, and then unscrewed the cap, flicking it to the ground. In about ten seconds flat, he had downed the beverage, and then dropped the bottle. He ignored the mans first question, but then taken fancy to his other ones. "My names not important... And..." But the third question threw him for a loop, where was going? Logan had no idea what his plans were, or even clearly why he left the city. Maybe Lisa was here, she could be anywhere by now, and he would never know. He thought about all the times he was mean to her, the mixed emotions he felt really got to him. He would give up his own life to save her, but other times he just wanted to strangle her. He felt ashamed, but thats just how he was, and he couldnt change that. Logan knew what he had to do, and would make sure nothing got in his way. This man would only slow him down, that why he was alone all this time. Because if you wanted something done right, you have to do it yourself. But maybe he could be of some help, he knew himself that cooperation was key to survival. "...Logan... Logan Byrne... Im looking for my sister..." Logan reached inside of his pocket, and pulled out a small photograph. He walked over to the man, and handed it him. "Did you happen to see her by any chance?" Logan knew the man wouldnt have seen her, or even if he did, wouldnt have taken the time to remember her face before putting a bullet in her head.
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Post by Metal Head on Jan 25, 2009 21:47:20 GMT -5
“Sister huh? Never seen her before,” Pulling out a small pack of Marlboro Lights, Nathan popped out a single perfect cigarette and clenched it between his lips while he fumbled through his pockets for his lighter. Moments later, he revealed the golden zippo from his suit jacket pocket. It only took one flick to spark a perfect flame, and he carefully lit the cigarette with it.
“I don’t suppose you smoke. Dangerous you know,” With a smirk, Nathan slide the packet back into his pocket along with the zippo not caring too much if the man did in fact want a smoke. Turning his attention back to the window, the young killer watched with cold steely eyes as the undead loomed closer.
“We should really be going. You wouldn’t happen to be going back into the city to look for your cute little sister would you?” Nathan didn’t plan to tell the man his full intentions, but decided to see how far he could push the man, and what buttons he needed to push to get him there. It might not be the smartest thing to do to a new acquaintance, but Nathan felt secure in the knowledge of his extensive training and hard earned experience.
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Post by OompaLoompaFan75 on Jan 26, 2009 0:45:41 GMT -5
A ride would sure beat the cold walk back... Logan looked outside back at the vehicle parked by the pumps. He wasnt really up for sticking with anyone, he would much rather be alone. But a lift couldnt hurt, and it was nice of the man to offer to take him back to Racoon City. "Yeah, guess im heading that way... Wouldnt mind taking a passenger, would ya?" He wasnt done searching on the outskirts, and couldve easily missed her. But something told him Lisa didnt leave the city, not without her big brother. Once he was back in Raccoon, he would start doing some investigation. Preferably alone, but if he took along this man, he would either make the best of it or ditch him. Speaking of which.
"...And just who might you be? Or are you one of those mysterious drifters whose forgotten their name?" Logan knew that names werent important, but the were both men, and men have names. He surprising have out his own name, something he wouldnt normally do with strangers. There mustve been something different about this one, something that told him he could be trusted. But just, there was a banging sound coming from the door. Logan quickly flicked on the light on the front of his coat, and aimed his revolver towards the entrance. He stood waiting to see which one of them would make the first move, but he would rather if the man took action, as his own ammo was short.
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Post by Metal Head on Jan 26, 2009 12:15:07 GMT -5
((OOC: I’m gonna guess that the banging came from the back, since most gas stations have clear glass windows as well as doors.))
“No, I wouldn’t mind a passenger, I just don’t want you to eat in my car,” Nathan spoke with a half a grin, as he pulled himself away from the glass and moved towards the front entrance. Just as he was about to push open the door, and answer the mans second question, Nathan heard a bang come from one of the backrooms, as did the other man, and instantly turned to find it’s source.
The banging continued, and as Nathan drew closer, he could hear scratching, as well as moaning coming from the other side of the last door in the hallway. Creaking of the door told Nathan it wouldn’t hold, so he walked just close enough so the door wouldn’t fall on him if it did fall, and carefully listened to the sounds.
“Four or more,” He whispered under his breath, and slide his hand into his jacket and rested it lightly on the grip of his Mk.23. The cold steel put him at ease, and as the creaking grew louder, he tightened his grip.
Suddenly the door gave way, falling to the ground with a sudden whoosh of air and very audible thump. The zombies who’d been clawing at the door fell forward with the door, and now scrambled amongst each other on the ground to try and be the first for their new meals.
Almost robotically, Nathan drew his heavily customized handgun and instantly fired off five shots, one into each of the skulls of the undead, sufficiently ending the moaning and scratches. At least…for now.
Turning back to Logan he quickly holstered his pistol and briskly walked out of the gas station. Pulling the pump from the tank and screwing the cap on, Nathan let the hose hang and watched as gasoline poured out the end of it, before slipping into his BMW’s driver side, and unlocking the passenger side.
“My name is Nathan Needly. You don’t mind if we make a stop at the hospital do you?” He said as Logan slipped into the passenger seat before slamming the car into drive and peeling out away from the station.
(Nathan Needly has left the Gas Station)
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Post by thegunny on Jul 14, 2009 21:02:54 GMT -5
The "Vanguard", Jack and 3 other designated marksmen, along with 6 other Militiamen with Bushmaster ACR's, trudged forward towards the back of Wal-mart near an employees only entrance. One of the benefits of Jack having a DSR-1 was that it was designed so he could go up there with a Bushmaster ACR himself and take point. The first Militiaman made a CQB hand signal for him to lead the way into the back-maintenance area once he breached the back door, and get them to the maintenance ladder that would allow them to get to the rooftop.
The sound of zombies and a cerebrus could be heard, but no armed hostile survivors were around. This was nothing the Militiamen shouldnt' be able to handle, and if they couldn't, then d**n... the entire effort was as good as wasted.
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Post by Earl Trandafir on Jul 15, 2009 20:19:35 GMT -5
Jack took point at the back entrance, along with another man who was built with a far more sturdy bulk than his own, who carried a Bushmaster Adaptive Combat Rifle, like his own. Jack made a CQB sign with his hand (one that he had learned from his recent training) that told the man to breach. Nodding, he maneuvered himself in front of the door, kicking it down and rushing to the right as he rushed to the left. The other eight began rushing in, aiming their weapon's, though there wasn't anything to shoot at... Yet, anyway. "Clear." Jack muttered to the men, now rushing toward the next hallway.
Many of the men in this group were of the British orientation, and very few of them had known how to kill one of these zombie's, let alone knowing how to load and shoot a rifle. This was obviously reflected in their current psyche in the mission. Many of them were weary of encounter, and this was apparent as Jack lead them to the destination coordinates, as some of them were hesitant to advance forward. Still, they were on a job that was going to get them paid some... Very nice thing's, and they needed to go through with it.
"Alright, the room is just up ahead. Be careful..." Jack uttered, the door to the back-maintenance area just up ahead. A scream was heard from the back of the group, and Jack turned. A Cerberus (An accidental B.O.W. spawned from an infected dog) was already on top of one of the men, who was frantically avoiding it's jaw's, each strike barely missing his face. Moaning was heard not far behind. "Shoot it, dammit!" Jack yelled at the men, who stood more terrified than battle ready. The bulkier pointman that had granted them entrance shot the dog twice to get it off, then shot it multiple times in the brain, and it eventually fell limp. The moaning was starting to get closer.
"Come on guy's, we have to keep moving! Go!"[/b] Jack yelled to the men, who were looking to him to lead. They rushed down the hallway, opening the door and entering the room, which proved to be, luckily, empty. Everyone rushed in, and the zombie's had finally come into view, too, stumbling their way toward the door. Pointing to the door, Jack yelled, "Close the door and head for the ladder! Go! Go!" he yelled, he himself leading the way to the ladder. The door broke down, some zombies tumbling over each other, others stepping over their fallen brethren in a desperate attempt to feed. Jack climbed the ladder, followed shortly by the three other designated sniper's, the other six men left behind to fend off the small horde of zombie's. "Remember to aim for the head!" Jack yelled to them as he reached the top, now focusing on his objective.
Setting the Bushmaster ACR aside, he removed the DSR-1 from his back so that sniper support would be easier for him. The order's were to avoid hurting the human hostile's, and only to provide suppressive supporting fire. Of course, given the situation, those order's might change... And Jack wasn't ready to let that happen. He set up in a prone posture, awaiting the other squad's to begin the assault...
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Post by thegunny on Jul 17, 2009 18:23:06 GMT -5
OOC: The first post was better =/
The hostile survivors started to stirr from across the parking lot and street, and several gunmen went outside of the building, eying wal-mart cautiously. They were about some 140-200 yards away, 300 yards max. The perfect range for the DM's. It would be easy work. Although the parking lot had a few shambling shufflers roaming through it, its many cars made it perfect terrain for the team to advance through, provided the hostile survivors didn't fire explosives or anything in there that caused the cars to explode. The team that was to make the frontal assault started to advance through the parking lot towards the gas station, catching the hostile survivors attention, who then started to fire captured M240G's and M249's at them. The Militia team bunkered down and took cover, and Roland quickly said into his headset
Overwatch! Weapons free! Take out the machine gunners! Shooting priorities are rockets and grenade launchers, scoped rifles, machine gunners, and anyone else! In that order! Shoot to kill!
The first two M240 gunners were firing from behind the gas pump stations, which dissuaded people from returning fire at them. The M249 gunner was up on the top of the platform above the gas platforms, high enough that the people in the parking lot had trouble returning fire against him, but wide open to be shot at. The 2nd team hung back waiting for the hostile survivors to fling themselves all out against the Parking lot militia, hanging back in the alleyways, waiting. The M249 gunners fire started to get more accurate and zero in on Lieutenant Roland's position, causing him to bark out into his headset as he ducked back down
TAKE HIM OUT ALREADY!
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Post by Earl Trandafir on Jul 18, 2009 20:09:35 GMT -5
OOC: Don't worry about it, your post's are always good. :0
Watching anxiously atop the Wal-Mart roof, Jack could plainly see the dilemma that the men were facing. They were being bombarded by machine-gun fire, and the men firing were hiding behind gas pump station's, either in an attempt to not get fired at, or men with a death wish. Mainly because of this, the first squad (the second was somewhere nearby, but they were currently avoiding the confrontation as of now) were not firing upon them.
"Overwatch! Weapons free! Take out the machine gunners! Shooting priorities are rockets and grenade launchers, scoped rifles, machine gunners, and anyone else! In that order! Shoot to kill!"
The word's hit Jack's ear's, and he frowned. He was against hurting another life- given that said life wasn't a shambling monster- and it wouldn't be easy for him to actually kill some of these civilian's. Was it morally correct? Jack took a quick look through his scope. There was nobody in sight with a rocket launcher or grenade launcher, as was expected, though there was a fair amount of men equipped with machine gun's, and three men with scoped rifles, that he could see, at least.
"TAKE HIM OUT ALREADY!"
Roland's distressed voice caught Jack's full attention. He aimed through the scope again, spotting the man with the M249, who's fire was getting dangerously close to the Lt.'s position. "Alright guy's! I need you to cover my shot's! Take out the men with scoped weapon's!" Jack spoke to the three other marksmen as he adjusted himself to take out the M249. He breathed in deeply, then slowly eased his breath out, his trigger gripping down ever heavier as his breathing calmed...
The distinctive gunshot noise of his DSR-1 rung through the air for a moment, before the man with the M249 SAW fell to the ground, blown back from the force of the bullet as blood flew from the exit-wound of the projectile. The other three sniper's made short work of the scope-equipped men, who fell to the ground in a similar fashion, as well as the two men taking cover behind the gas tank's. Jack spoke in a with a reluctant tone, waiting a few second's before delivering the message. "Hostiles Eliminated." he spoke softly, awaiting the men to make a move, where he would be quietly waiting, ready to give supporting fire along with his fellow 'designated marksmen' as needed.
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Post by thegunny on Jul 18, 2009 20:56:02 GMT -5
The gunfire was already starting to create some complications. As soon as the suppressive fire died down, the Militia in the parking lot started to push forward again. They were firing at the zombies in the parking lot and focusing less on the men at the gas station still. However, suddenly something unexpected happened. One of the men dropped, and then the militiaman next to him dropped. One was dead, another wounded. A squad leader barked out
SNIPER! TO THE WEST! SOMEWHERE IN THAT BIG APARTMENT COMPLEX! SOMEONE FIND HIM!
As that happened, the designated marksmens fire started to speed up, as more men popped out from the gas station, some of them with grenade bandaleers and one with the RPG. The other marksmen quickly dispatched the grenadiers, but it left Jack with a decision. Take out the RPG man, or go for the sniper who's already killed two men? He didn't even know exactly what window the sniper was in, or whether he was even on the roof top. More hostile survivors poured out, and soon they were pushing into the parking lot. As soon as that happened, gunfire erupted in the alleyway as the 2nd team started to push against the men left behind in the gas station, and the battle started to reach its climax....
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Post by MaDneSS on Jul 22, 2009 18:10:13 GMT -5
Brian moved along the sidewalk, following the signs he had seen on the road to the nearest gas station. He was in a foul mood, having expected the airport to be his ticket out of all of this, but the told him to leave Duke, and that just wasn’t going to fly with the man. As he looks down at the black lab following him, a small smile spreads across his lips. Sacrificing safety and a better chance of survival for his dog was completely worth it in his mind. Turning a bend, a familiar sound reaches his ears, the sound of gunfire in the distance…
Instinctively, Brian was already starting to turn the other direction to head somewhere less hot. But for all he knew, it could be other survivors in danger, be it from undead or other people. He stops in his tracks as he mulls it over, the shotgun held loosely in his hands as he thinks. He had no family or friends to be looking for, he had no goals really, so he may aswell do what he can to help. Setting off at a light jog towards the sounds of conflict, he slings the shotgun over his shoulder and pulls out the revolver, something he found more suited for pin point aiming rather than blowing zombies apart when they were close as he did with the Mossberg, his thumb poking up and pulling back the hammer.
A few moments later, he arrives at the scene, the battle before him caused his heart to skip a beat. The two sides showed him one thing, a realization that did cause his morale to drop some. It was humans on humans, the last thing that people needed during these already dangerous times. He moves off of the road, a stray bullet hitting near his feet causing him to remember he wasn’t safe standing out in the open. He moves towards a low wall, separating the parking lot from the property next to it. Barely poking his head up, he nearly loses it as one of the hostile survivors fires a shot off at him. Digging into his pocket, he pulls out some gum, and the shard of mirror he had found. Chewing the gum, he pulls his knife out and sticks the gum to it and attached the mirror, raising it ever so slowly to look over the wall, not wanting to risk losing his head again.
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