UnHuman: Danse Necrosis

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ArchAngel
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All the familiar sounds of the Mineta Airport echoed across the lofty, sterile white building. The crowd bustles back and forth, each to whatever predetermined destination they might have. Their murmur drowns out the news broadcast on one of the TVs in the background. The reporter seems to be reporting on some disaster, but that's hardly been news of late. There's always something terrible somewhere, it seems.
A strange piece of artwork shaped as a security camera meets a War of the World walker rotates and unblinkingly watches the shambling crowd.

That art piece has always unsettled Tim. But then, airports always have that strange feel, straight in the pit of your stomachs. Goodbyes to good times past mixed with the promise of new adventures to come; it all just jumbles in the mind for that special blend of bittersweet airport feelings. The first annual ChristCenteredGamer meet up is over now and Tim is seeing off the last few members off on their flights, but sadness of parting has not forgotten the joy of meeting. They were on the loft for the security check points, all their bags checked in, and just down the escalators were the baggage claim that marked the beginning of the conference. Funny how things wrap around.
Good times, but back to the humdrum of life.

((Nothing has started yet, but go ahead and introduce yourself into the story whenever you are ready))
Pew Pew Pew. Science.

RoA: Kratimos/Lycan
UnHuman: Tim
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Orodrist
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Stephen allowed himself just a hint of a smile as he cleared security. Missed one, ladies, he thought, smiling at their typical TSA incompetence. Statist pigs. Still haven't figured out that boot trick.He hated airports. Being disarmed and herded like cattle was too Dachau-esqe for his liking. He reached into his carry-on for a tin of Copenhagen and one of the tiny shampoo bottles he had filled with shine, glaring down the scowls of the crowd. As the dip began to burn in his lip, he eyed his gate. A few too many people for his liking. Two gates down was nearly empty, might as well settle in there. Stephen scrounged a empty bottle from the trash and spat in it, enjoying the look of disgust from a nearby businessman. He purposefully fgrabbed a seat right next to him, stretching out his battered Red Wings and wiping the tobacco juice from his lips.
I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do - Robert A Heinlein

Courage ~ Discipline ~ Fidelity ~ Honor ~ Hospitality ~ Industriousness ~ Perseverance ~ Self Reliance ~
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ArchAngel
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Stephen has already gone through the checkpoint leaving Tim to say goodbye to the last three. He was honestly a little surprised Stephen got through without too much of a hitch. As Tim gazed towards the check point, he focused in a bit of activity. One of the security guards pulled aside a traveler who finished walking through the scanner and with latex gloved hands, pulled up his sleeve to reveal taped on bloodied gauze. Two other guards quickly centered in on him and without a word from them, pulled him away to a retaining room. His pleas and exclamations fell on deaf ears. The line continued as usual, and Tim's attention quickly returned to his friends.
Pew Pew Pew. Science.

RoA: Kratimos/Lycan
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Chozon1
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Conner nervously switched from foot to foot while standing in line, clenching his backpack, his apprehensiveness palpable. He wasn't afraid of flying, but was rather certain that, with his luck, he was going to be strip searched. In five years it'd make a great story, but at the present he wasn't really looking forward to the mortification, and hoped it wouldn't happen. Maybe he should try to make his face look less afraid?
Still, it had been an awesome time hanging out with the fellow CCG'ers, and totally worth the plane trip. Laughter, fun, games, and enough pizza and mini tacos to make his gut feel like lead. No regrets, he thought, as he shambled forward toward the security arch.

((Never done this before, soo...if I'm messing up, please slap me or something))
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ArchAngel
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((Your post is spot on! Just waiting for Arctic and JOJ to make their posts. Until then, it's just niceties.))
"Take care, Conner!" Tim did one final wave as Conner got in the security line. "And never forget the Pizza taco."
Mmm, Pizza taco. The brainchild of Tim and Conner's of a Taco with a torilla of pizza.
Pew Pew Pew. Science.

RoA: Kratimos/Lycan
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"Well this has been an interesting start" Jack thought to himself after seeing a person pulled out of the line, and over hearing someone tell a friend that some guy was drinking shampoo. Jack didn't really care for traveling by air, it's not the flying part that bothers him, rather the qualms of leaving something behind, losing his luggage, or somehow missing his flight. It was still going to take a fair amount of time before Jack got to the security arch, so he looked for something to keep his mind busy. Jack noticed a TV nearby, but didn't keep his focus on it after realizing it was the news, which was as usual... politically downcast; not very ideal for easing the mind. So Jack settled on thinking over the great events of the past few days.

((Haha, that nervous feel of accidentally typing something repetitive, to long, unclear, etc. XD))
Be part of the answer, not part of the problem.

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1 Corinthians 13; remember it always.
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ArchAngel
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((You're doing good. Just don't forget to set your char sheet to public so I can see it))
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ArcticFox
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"Well Tim, thanks for doing this, and sorry about your lamp..."

The fistbump and bro hug now behind him, Chris goes from friendly mode to agitator mode, his middle fingers warming up for his usual salute when being put through the airport body scanner.

The traveler with the bandage on his arm had made for an interesting distraction, and he wonders what the point of the extra attention from security was. Maybe they thought he was transporting Anthrax or something. Much as he tried to hide it and play it cool, Chris was a bona-fide rubbernecker and drama hound. He was disappointed that whatevr was happening was now off out of sight behind closed doors.

Ah, well. Airports were always easier to deal with when there wasn't any excitement or trouble. Such things always caused delays. He growled as he dropped his shoes into a bin on top of his laptop, just extracted from his backpack. Next time, a train perhaps.
"He who takes offense when no offense is intended is a fool, and he who takes offense when offense is intended is a greater fool."
—Brigham Young

"Don't take refuge in the false security of consensus."
—Christopher Hitchens
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ArchAngel
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Well, that was it. Everybody is past the security gates now and Tim is waving his final goodbyes past the glass. After Stephen, Conner, Jack, and Chris were out of sight, Tim turned his attention to leaving, his eyes passing the TV with the local news. It's hard from him to resist television or just moving pictures of any sort and he lingered on what seemed to be a distressed reporter behind what seems like riots in Kiev, maybe? Crowds panicked. Soldiers trying to keep order. Blood everywhere. It wasn't until he noticed that it was the local news in San Jose and people started crowding the TV. Tim stepped closer and began hearing what the broadcast was saying. --Infections-- --Bites-- find a local treatme-- --stay indoors--
His attention was drawn away by a piercing scream. He turned around and time seemed to freeze. A 737. Low. It's going to crash. He couldn't move, but he noticed everything. The cockpit window as smeared with blood. the landing gears were up. And just as sudden as time froze, it sped back up. The plane struck the ground, shaking the whole airport. It rapidly drove itself in the terminal. Glass and cement flew everywhere and everything went blac--

------


Stephen, Conner, Jack, Chris: Each of you slowly awake. Your ears are ringing, and you see people running chaotically. Rubble is everywhere, including on you but you find that you aren't seriously hurt. Parts of the airport on fire and down the hallway, you see part of the fuselage of the jetliner, a large torn section where one of wings broke off. A number of the windows are covered with blood.
Nothing looks familiar anymore, but you're pretty certain you were standing somewhere else when the plane hit. As the ringing dies, you start to hear the screams and the sobs, and start to get realization on what happened, but even then, you don't know what you're in for.
Bodies are everywhere. Covered in debris, thrown across furniture, and trampled on the floor. Then you see it. A terribly wounded man. His arm is torn off, and half is face is sheered off. Blood is dripping from his mouth and he's hobbling his way out of the destroyed plane.
Pew Pew Pew. Science.

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Orodrist
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I'm way to sober for this crap, Stephen thought, quickly grabbing for his backpack and getting back on his feet. Whatever just happened it was obviously an attack and that meant things were about to get real ugly. There weren't many viable options at this point. A man - or half a man - was crawling towards him but now was no time to suddenly be charitable. He had to make for the baggage storage.

Time to show these birches what ugly really is, he smirked to himself, reaching for a chunk of rubble and yelling for his friends.
I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do - Robert A Heinlein

Courage ~ Discipline ~ Fidelity ~ Honor ~ Hospitality ~ Industriousness ~ Perseverance ~ Self Reliance ~
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When Jack got up his senses were sharpened, but his mind was scattered. He took a few seconds to regain his focus, he didn't feel any major injuries, and his backpack is still on his back. Jack got up to see what was going on, and there he saw an one armed figure. Jack hoped it wasn't what he thought it was, but Jack braced himself for the worst regardless. He then heard Stephen calling, Jack silently responded by running towards him while scanning the area for the others.
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1 Corinthians 13; remember it always.
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ArcticFox
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This is gonna make for an interesting episode of Air Crash Investigations one day...

He struggles to stand, stunned by the impact and noise. He sees his friends moving and makes best speed over to help them. What happened? Did the plane screw up its landing? Did a pilot go all suicide? Did a plan malfunction?

He sees the horribly mangled man approaching from the wreckage and something about him is... wrong... Chris opens his mouth to ask if the man is okay but somehow he can't make the sounds, so he focuses on trying to help his friends instead. All so confusing...
"He who takes offense when no offense is intended is a fool, and he who takes offense when offense is intended is a greater fool."
—Brigham Young

"Don't take refuge in the false security of consensus."
—Christopher Hitchens
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ArchAngel
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The wounded man keeps shambling forward and as he gets closer, you can tell he is dazed beyond belief. A older woman and two men, one short and one lanky and tall, apprehensively walk towards him, asking if he's okay and offering help. The tall man calls for help pulling out his phone and trying to call 911, meanwhile the lady and shorter man try to help him walk.
You stare in disbelief as the wounded man turns and bites into the woman's neck, severing an artery and squirting blood. The short man falls backwards towards the left in panic and tries to run away, but his leg is caught by an arm sticking out of the rubble beneath him. The arm pulls in and a head pushes out underneath the broken cement and bites into his thigh. The taller man turns on the screams and goes to try to push the one-armed biter from the woman, but is grabbed is bit across the face.

Behind the violence to the right, lodged between two triangulated slabs of cement is your friend Conner.

((Since we're using simplified rules, I'm going to try keeping combat and encounters in a narrative. Let me know where you are moving or doing, and I'll either resolve it for you, or tell you what to roll, etc. As you pick up weapons, I'll let you know their damage rolls.

Oro, the rubble you pick up can be swing or thrown to do d4 damage, but will take a -4 penalty on attack roll since it's an improvised weapon.

Quick Tutorial:
Before you want to get into a conflict or encounter, roll for initiative. It's 1d10 + the INIT bonus on your char sheet. For me, it'd be:

Code: Select all

[dice]1d10+1[/dice]
This will determine the order in which you turns are made.
If the situation is advantagerous, I'll let you know if you made a surprise attack, which I'll give you a free round.

To make an attack, you make 2 rolls. First is the attack roll:
It uses the d20 dice and takes your attack roll bonus on your sheet. For a melee attack from me, it'd look like this:

Code: Select all

[dice]1d20+2[/dice]
In the case of Stephen doing a melee attack with the rubble, since he has a +3 attack bonus but -4 from an improvised weapon, he rolls:

Code: Select all

[dice]1d20-1[/dice]
Since there are living people next engaged with the zombie as of now, if he were to do a ranged attack, there'd be an additional -4 attack penalty.
Some weapons have different crit ranges, but generally, a 20 rolled on the attack is always a hit and, for the purpose of this game, will score double damage.

You also make a damage roll. This gets applied if attack roll succeeds, something I will determine based on who you are fighting. It's the dice assigned to the weapon you are using plus your STR bonus if you are doing a melee or thrown attack, or DEX bonus for other ranged attacks.
In the case of Stephen with the rubble in melee, it'd be:

Code: Select all

[dice]1d4+3[/dice]
If you want to do unarmed strikes, you'd roll a d3 and take a -4 attack roll penalty.
Unfortunately, the dice mod doesn't do d6 and then divide by 2(round up).

Another note, if you want to check around to see if there are more zombies or what not that are not in plain sight (what I've already mentioned), you can make a Spot check by rolling a d20 + WIS:
In the case of my character,

Code: Select all

[dice]1d20+1[/dice]
This skill roll is based of of the Spot skill.

This is a lot, so I'll give a little example with an NPC.))




Another bystander, a balding head and greying hair but a still decent build, saw what was happening and runs forward to take action. He comes up to the one-armed man and takes a swing.

Initiative:
[dice]0[/dice]
Attack Roll:
[dice]1[/dice]
Damage:
[dice]2[/dice]/2 + 2 = 4


EDIT:
He gets a square shot at the head, with a sickening crunch as his fist meets the face.
The injured woman and man fall away from the two of them.
Pew Pew Pew. Science.

RoA: Kratimos/Lycan
UnHuman: Tim
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Chozon1
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Dangit. It was the only G-rated word that fit. First Conner had been knocked into a wall from a crash, or an explosion, or a fat man hitting him in the head with a brick. He wasn't certain, at the moment, since he woke up surrounded by concrete, and he could barely hear his friends yelling, amidst a chorus of other screams, over the ringing in his ears. He was covered in dust, and tiny pebbles rolled off of him as he tried to sit up. Last thing he remembered was a slow motion glance over his shoulder and seeing a plane at an angle it shouldn't have been, and blood...blood?

Not good...I thought airport security was flawless? He grimaced, and coughed at the dust. Can't be staying here, he thought, square footage leaves something to be desired. He proceeded to try and leave his concrete abode.
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Orodrist
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Stephen takes a knee and started unlacing his boot as soon as he saw the killing start, glad to see his friends intact. He nods towards the rubble, "if anything so much as twitches funny, make sure it ends up more stoned then Willie Nelson on tour!" he calls out anxious, finally noting Conner across the way.

There it is, he thought, pulling away the padding inside his boot and pulling out a thin piece of metal.

((Work boots have a steel insole running through the bottom, cut them out from the top, replace with a thin knife with cut pieces of steel glued to it to hide the shape on x-ray. Worked like a charm last time someone who isn't me flew))

He cast a worrisome glance at the victims who had been bitten as he relaced his boot. If this was what he thought it was...

"We need to get out of the main area and fast if we plan on avoiding being lunch," he glanced at Jack and Chris as he stood. "Best bet is the secure areas, just need a way in. Unless ya'll had something else in mind?"

Spot check for any airport employee with an access card:

[dice]1d20+2[/dice]

((Ok so why isn't the dice doing its thing?))
I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do - Robert A Heinlein

Courage ~ Discipline ~ Fidelity ~ Honor ~ Hospitality ~ Industriousness ~ Perseverance ~ Self Reliance ~
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