[Main Plot] 'Zombie Tipping'
Characters: First Commander George Leadswell, Second Commander Maria Walch, Paul Knight, newcomers.
Setting: January 22nd, 5pm; zombie corral just outside New Ashford.
Summary: The commander wants to know how you fair against the zombies and what precisely you're capable of to defend yourself. Weapons of all kinds provided for those who are currently lacking.
Rating: Gruesome, Blood, Gore - but all in good fun.
Style: Prose or Action Log
Notes: OPEN. If your character needs a weapon, feel free to make up almost anything to have come from the Free's supplies.
"Nothing quite like a good zombie tipping to get the blood flowing, eh Maria?" The stout and stocky George Leadswell only came up to the woman's chest, which was a perfectly good height for a wonderful view as far as he was concerned. His short cropped brown hair was balding in a perfect circle on the crown of his head, but he never bothered to comb it over, leaving his easily burned skin exposed to the elements.
The first commander's dark eyes gleamed and glittered energetically as he turned to look at the milling and moaning crowd of undead, bumping into each other as they reached the electric wire fence cutting them off escape, its half a mile length protected also by runes and spells wrought by the Living Magic-Users Circle of New Ashford, or the LMUCNA for short.
Maria smiled wryly at her commander, ignoring always his easy stare at her prominent chest and the loose khaki shirt which did nothing to conceal its weight. An annoyance, yes, but one didn't choose one's assets at birth - and looking like one who could be a model of the old days did nothing to alleviate her desire to destroy the undead with whatever explosives or automatics she could get her hands on. "Yes, Sir." She replied finally, and looked back over her shoulder, her jet black pony-tail flicking over one shoulder as she observed the new arrivals, wondering at what abilities and talents they might possess. Paul Knight was standing near them, a ready and willing guide to his little flock of strangers to New Ashford. Maria smiled slowly at the almost protective look the man was casting at them.
"Alright, Paulie! Send them over! One by one if you please. You there! Other-worlders! Take a weapon if you need it and show us what you can do to these bloody brain-chewers!" Leadswell's voice cracked in the dusky, rainy air, as sharp as the artillery fire he loved so dearly.
Setting: January 22nd, 5pm; zombie corral just outside New Ashford.
Summary: The commander wants to know how you fair against the zombies and what precisely you're capable of to defend yourself. Weapons of all kinds provided for those who are currently lacking.
Rating: Gruesome, Blood, Gore - but all in good fun.
Style: Prose or Action Log
Notes: OPEN. If your character needs a weapon, feel free to make up almost anything to have come from the Free's supplies.
"Nothing quite like a good zombie tipping to get the blood flowing, eh Maria?" The stout and stocky George Leadswell only came up to the woman's chest, which was a perfectly good height for a wonderful view as far as he was concerned. His short cropped brown hair was balding in a perfect circle on the crown of his head, but he never bothered to comb it over, leaving his easily burned skin exposed to the elements.
The first commander's dark eyes gleamed and glittered energetically as he turned to look at the milling and moaning crowd of undead, bumping into each other as they reached the electric wire fence cutting them off escape, its half a mile length protected also by runes and spells wrought by the Living Magic-Users Circle of New Ashford, or the LMUCNA for short.
Maria smiled wryly at her commander, ignoring always his easy stare at her prominent chest and the loose khaki shirt which did nothing to conceal its weight. An annoyance, yes, but one didn't choose one's assets at birth - and looking like one who could be a model of the old days did nothing to alleviate her desire to destroy the undead with whatever explosives or automatics she could get her hands on. "Yes, Sir." She replied finally, and looked back over her shoulder, her jet black pony-tail flicking over one shoulder as she observed the new arrivals, wondering at what abilities and talents they might possess. Paul Knight was standing near them, a ready and willing guide to his little flock of strangers to New Ashford. Maria smiled slowly at the almost protective look the man was casting at them.
"Alright, Paulie! Send them over! One by one if you please. You there! Other-worlders! Take a weapon if you need it and show us what you can do to these bloody brain-chewers!" Leadswell's voice cracked in the dusky, rainy air, as sharp as the artillery fire he loved so dearly.