....Twenty-Seven Days Later....

[Sparrow]

Rules:
1: Blah
2: You already know the basics.
3: This is a Zombie RP.
4: See above.

Plot:
A virus created in a laboratory for military purposes had some how been unleashed. It when unnoticed for several weeks until certain people began to act strangely. The virus had been spread around the world, failing to be noticed until it was too late. Unknown too many people is the fact that rats are the main spreaders of the illness, and only people with rare blood types are immune. It has been several weeks since people became infected, and few survivors are left. The setting is France; the streets are eerily quiet and empty. The Eiffel tower stands in a cloud of smog, and with out power the city is in darkness.
It is now twenty-seven days after the outbreak...

[Sparrow]

(Because Vincent is in every other Zombie RP I decided not to use him as my main character. I’m going to use Victor. X3)


Through the dark and cold streets a mailman passes. He had been transferred to France by the request of his colleagues. Shortly after arriving the outbreak began. He had gone twelve days before becoming infected, but a rat had bitten him on the right hand when he sat to rest in an ally. Now fifteen days since the bite it is clear what he is. Even though he is not brain-dead he is what people would call crazy. However he had always been that way, it was just the fact that there was no longer a form of law; that he began his quest. In his mind, the matter of killing someone whose name is not on his mailing list, made sense.
He now wanders the city looking for survivors. He is still wearing his uniform complete with a hat. His hair color is dark ash-brown, and it had been getting lighter day by day. The most noticeable thing about him is his eye color, they are over-clouded red, but his main eye color is blue; This gives a slight illusion of them being purple. He also carries a mail bag at his side which contains a mailing list, letters, packages, and several letter openers.

[FoxTrott]

Being in the military sure had its advantages. You knew exactly where to go to get a gun, and had first dibs on transportation out of the infected area. Not to mention all the gear that came with the job.

Unfortunately, Ericken had missed all the trains out, used up all his ammunition, and his house was ransacked by looters. The grumpy twenty-something kicked a stray cat in frustration. It yowled back at him and fled into a garbage can, where it cowered while Ericken passed through the alleyway. The cat was lucky Ericken didn't smack it with the crowbar he was carrying. On aforementioned survivor's back was a backpack in need of additional supplies.

"Hnnngh," mumbled Ericken. He pushed a lock of long, light brown hair behind his ear. What he wouldn't do for a hamburger...

[Sparrow]

Hearing the distinct yowl of a cat he slows to a stop. Victor stands silently in the middle of the street, turning his head every so often in to focus in on any sounds. He had always had a good sense of hearing, but ever since becoming infected his hearing had become much keener then he thought possible. Breathing shallowly to clear out back noise he comes across a familiar sent, there was defiantly a cat nearby. However he picked up on an unfamiliar sent as well. He looks in the expected direction and backs away to the nearest ally, but stays out on the sidewalk. If whatever it was, was a threat he could easily run away.

[FoxTrott]

Ericken emerged from the alleyway, crowbar slung over his shoulder. He glanced around; there was mostly street and debris to be seen. Ericken slipped off his backpack, and knelt down, going through it. He eventually pulled out a map that looked like it belonged with a tourist. It was definitely an old, well-used map, with scribbled notes all over it. He made a few mental calculations and determined he was nowhere near a shop he hadn't checked out yet.

Then he realized it was upside-down.

Grumbling, Ericken turned the map right side-up, and tried to make sense of it.

[Sparrow]

Seeing that the survivor only had a crowbar, or at least it seemed that way, Victor steps out into view. He pulls the strap of his mail bag back up to get a better grip on it, then looks calmly to the person.
“Hey you, what’s your name? I may have a package for you.” he calls over in a normal tone.

[FoxTrott]

Ericken froze up at the sound of another voice. Realizing it was a person, and not a zombie that knew how to talk, he peeked over the top of his map.

The hell is a mailman doing here? His expression perfectly matched his thoughts. Ericken folded the map into a small square, and put it in his backpack. As he stood up, he called back, "Erick... en. Ericken Chaze... If you're finally giving me the backpack I earned after sending in ten box tops, it's a bit too late, man." He gave a light chuckle.

[Dokeshi]

He was making mental calculations, marking various things on a metal clip board. His subjects were two people...well one was a zombie of course. He adjusted the gas mask slightly, giggling to a private joke he made to himself. He continued watching them, sending a few pieces of loose roof down towards them, trying to pull his leg back up. In addition to the gas mask and the red velvet top hat he wore, bound by a black ragged thread, he wore a long white lab coat, a symbol on the back not quite a bio-hazard sign with small writing on the back, "Occular Crescent" The front had two origional biohazard signs on the pockets and a single word across the right side," Monotoxin.

[Sparrow]

Quickly he flips through his mailing list however he hears a strange sound and shoots a look up.
“Heads up!” he says quickly and jumping backwards to dodge. A tile lands where he had been standing.

[FoxTrott]

Ericken stepped back, avoiding the falling tile. He looked up, trying to discern what had caused it to fall.

"I can't see anything from here," he muttered, "Could it be one of those zombies?" Nervously, he held his crowbar tighter.

[Dokeshi]

Monotoxin made sure he was out of sight but spoke to them, the gas mask speaker amplifying his voice but distorting it slightly," Oh trust me... I'm not a zombie, perhaps there are some nearby though." He chuckled into the speaker.

[Sparrow]

Victor glares up to where the voice is heard.
“So, what are you? Some kind of prankster?” he asks irritably.

[FoxTrott]

Ericken shivered. He had half a mind to bolt and find another place to look around for food. The dominant half of his mind convinced him to stay out of curiosity. He maneuvered himself to get a peek at whoever was above them.

[Dokeshi]

He replied quickly, the voice not quite as distorted anymore," Not quite, the falling tiling was a miscalculation of my footing, you may call me Monotoxin." He stayed out of sight, not sure if he should leave the human to the zombie or not.

[Sparrow]

“I see, so you’re just a spy then? Monotoxin is it? That’s a rather strange name.”
He looks down to his list and begins flipping through it for names.