For the Love of Life~
Characters: Wolfgang Grimmer [ou], The Joker [ou]
When: April 14th, Afternoon
Where: Downtown Nesreca
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A rather confused East German journalist arrives amidst the zombie invasion.
Grimmer breathed in Prague's cool night air as he plopped himself onto a staircase in front of a abandoned shop. Nobody would be walking by at this time at night, so he was free to eat some of the food that he had stocked up on earlier.
Wolfgang Grimmer had gotten himself in quite a situation. This was namely due to his naive detective friend, Jan Suk, who was framed for the murders of several Czechoslovakian police officers (almost all of them former Secret Police).
Eventually, rescuing the detective meant that Grimmer needed to forge a letter which confessed that he himself had performed them. Of course Grimmer had not murdered them, (well...except for the ones that had tried to torture and kill him first) but he had seen the crime scenes himself, and so could give enough information for the letter to appear legit.
So now, he was a wanted serial killer that Europe was obsessed with catching.
If he wasn't such a skilled spy, his chances of escaping would be zero.
He sighed and bit into the sausage, chewing slowly as he thought over his situation. Just when he was finished swallowing the food, a deeply disoriented feeling came over him.
Next thing he knew, he was laying on concrete pavement, and it was light out. "Did....I fall asleep?" Grimmer muttered to himself in German as climbed up and looked around. No, this area was completely different looking than the area he was in before. This...was odd.
He instinctively checked to see if he still had his bag; good, it was safe. Just when he was about to open it up to see if anything was taken, he heard footsteps nearby. Grimmer looked up to see...a large group of people dressed as zombies. He smiled. That looked like a fun hobby to do.
However, he could not allow these people to recognize who he was. Hiding his face, he quickly stood up and began to briskly pace towards the nearest alley way.
When: April 14th, Afternoon
Where: Downtown Nesreca
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A rather confused East German journalist arrives amidst the zombie invasion.
Grimmer breathed in Prague's cool night air as he plopped himself onto a staircase in front of a abandoned shop. Nobody would be walking by at this time at night, so he was free to eat some of the food that he had stocked up on earlier.
Wolfgang Grimmer had gotten himself in quite a situation. This was namely due to his naive detective friend, Jan Suk, who was framed for the murders of several Czechoslovakian police officers (almost all of them former Secret Police).
Eventually, rescuing the detective meant that Grimmer needed to forge a letter which confessed that he himself had performed them. Of course Grimmer had not murdered them, (well...except for the ones that had tried to torture and kill him first) but he had seen the crime scenes himself, and so could give enough information for the letter to appear legit.
So now, he was a wanted serial killer that Europe was obsessed with catching.
If he wasn't such a skilled spy, his chances of escaping would be zero.
He sighed and bit into the sausage, chewing slowly as he thought over his situation. Just when he was finished swallowing the food, a deeply disoriented feeling came over him.
Next thing he knew, he was laying on concrete pavement, and it was light out. "Did....I fall asleep?" Grimmer muttered to himself in German as climbed up and looked around. No, this area was completely different looking than the area he was in before. This...was odd.
He instinctively checked to see if he still had his bag; good, it was safe. Just when he was about to open it up to see if anything was taken, he heard footsteps nearby. Grimmer looked up to see...a large group of people dressed as zombies. He smiled. That looked like a fun hobby to do.
However, he could not allow these people to recognize who he was. Hiding his face, he quickly stood up and began to briskly pace towards the nearest alley way.