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Ask to Join The Walking Dead RP : Suffering Earth (Season 1)

flint-n-steel

Previously hollowhead_
Oh, how I LOVE making more than one RPs based on the same subject XD @Avalios @9012_dirt @Mikaela Strange @Dave Strider
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Character Sheet :
Name : Diablo Markus
Gender : Male
Age : 32
Appearance : An African American, Has Long Brown Dreadlocks As Hair, A Green Tank Top, Camouflage Jeans, Highly Muscular, Has Two Greenish Brown Mud Lines on each of his cheeks. Brown Eyes, À Goatee, and A Green Headband on his forehead.
Weaponry : Two Long Hunting Swords, An AK-47, À Pocket Knife and a Pistol. Those Weapons are on an assault belt of his.
Backstory : He grew up in the wild, an orphan but skilled in the life of harsh nature. When he was 30, he joined the military, which enhanced his survival skills. Now, two years later, also known as, the arrival of the dead, he became even harsher, and even had grown attributes, similar to Animal instincts. He didn't know Defeat, but he knew Death. The thing which had engulfed this world. He knew he would, inevitably, die, but no matter what, he was going to survive longest. He never hesitated to put anyone out of their misery, or to aid them in any way possible. He doesn't know mechanics but knows quite a bit about medics.
Other : He has a Puerto Rico accent as he is half Puerto Rico, and half African American. His mother was Puerto Rico, and his father was African American.
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Diablo was walking through the forest on all fours, constantly sniffing everywhere, sort of like a Beagle dog. He got up on his feet, now, and got both his long hunting swords ready, in case any lurkers came. 'Lurkers' were what he called them, most called them 'Walkers' or 'Muertos' or 'The Dead' but he called them Lurkers. He had a constant frown on his face. He had shelter, in the forest, but it wasn't well guarded, so he was planning to leave soon, and maybe try to fins survivors who were useful, but now, he was looking for food. He heard a sound. There seemed to be a Hyena and an Alligator fighting. Diablo decided not to intervene, but wait for one of them to kill the other, so then he would feast. Just like a vulture would. A quarter of an hour later, the Hyena was feasting on the alligators blood. Then suddenly, out of the bushes came Diablo which sliced the Hyena's whole head off. These weren't normal human foods, but still, they were food. He had to eat, he could never tell when he could ever eat again. But, he knew he wouldn't eat them RAW. He had a little firewood, in which he used to make a fire, and quickly eat the remains of the two animals. They weren't well cooked but they were still edible. He noticed the light was attracting groans from lurkers, so he quickly put it out, and started sprinting to the path of his current shelter, readying his hunting swords in case any lurkers jumped at him.
 
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A bang from nearby caused Jarren to jerk awake, flinging his head upright he looked down at his gun and cringed at the drool that plastered it's handle. He had fallen asleep at his post, again. Lately he'd been more tired, and the number of walkers has increased to the point that going outside to get food is more of a risk than going another day without any. "Damnit." he muttered solemnly as he rubbed his temple and massaged his eye-lids, the zombies at the gates were knocking against it at a slow pace- he knew they weren't gonna get in- no use wasting his ammo. Sure enough somewhere else the blood of something else attracted the creatures away form Jarren's base. His icy blue gaze swept the property before landing on a familiar figure although engulfed by the shadows- Keisha's long banner wagged recognizably at her companion's look. Jarren watched the agile mutt jump from a pile of wood over the fence and the open the door - which she left open- he grinned weakly at her soft brown eyes when the dog walked over to the man and simply laid down at his feet dropping the object she was carrying in a dramatic gesture of exhaustion. "Good girl-" Jarren rasped as he patted her silky head and took out several cans of different foods. Keisha was quite well at retrieving things at stores, yet of course she can only do what a dog can. She'll take whatever smells like food; which is good enough for Jarren. Jarren then stood and rested a hand on his hip for the extra support, "Alright, I guess it's time we make a run." the young male nodded before walking, he placed the revolver that was on his belt down on the floor and switched it out with a baretta from his closet, then with a hesitant sigh he climbed out the window sill and just jumped to the ground over the fence, followed by Keisha.
 
His body ached all over, the constant trekking never ceased, and never got any easier. As his feet continued their routine step-by-step march forward, Teal had trouble keeping his eyes open. He was so exhausted. It's been two days since he'd run out of water, and he still hadn't found a source anywhere near.
His food supply was dangerously low, and he'd rationed it to a quarter portion a day to not run out. It would last him three more days, if he survived that long without water, that is. His breaths came out in exhausted gasps for air with each step, his eyelids impairing his vision as they grew heavy, sliding down, prompting him to sleep.
As he wheezed along, he heard a distant gunshot. This made him perk up, but only a little. Where there was gunshots, there was people. Where there was people, there was water. Desperation gnawing at him, Teal changed direction, now walking robotically to the source of the gunshot, hoping that he could find someone nice enough to help.

After half an hour of walking, he began to become delirious, as he was now unsure of whether the gunshot was truly what he heard, or just a figment of his imagination. That was when he noticed it. Water! Fresh, clean water! Dropping onto his hands and knees, he feebly crawled to the puddle of water, quickly putting his head down and began to suck up the water. The water soothed his hot, parched throat, coating his dry lips. He'd never experienced something so pleasurable in recent memory.
After a few refreshing gulps, he looked up, to see a dead walker, it's head removed from it's torso, the body splayed out at an odd angle, dry blood revealing a trail into the water. Disgusted, Teal jerked back, wiping his mouth of the essence. Tainted water. He was unsure of how this would affect him. Would he gain a terrible disease and become another walker? What if there was another kind of illness that had just entered his body? Questions flew around his head, dazing him.

It had been nearly an hour since he herd the gunshot, his feet shuffling along the path, their routine ruined after the drink stop. He had come to realize just how bad his feet were. His shoes were falling apart, and stained in red. His own blood. He'd walked so much, he'd caused his feet to bleed. Feeling weaker than before, Teal fell to his knees, before collapsing onto the ground in a heap, his breathing heavy and irregular. The world going dark around him, before it all cut to black, as Teal passed out.
 
I keep noticing how there's a pretty small selection of active roleplayers on this site, most of which I've already been in a thread with- and every time I see a thread with them in it, my thoughts always go something like this; Oh, this person's already in a roleplay with me... If I join this other one that they're in, they're gonna think I'm, like, stalking them and they'll get sick of me.
Am I the only one that does this? Probably.. But after a solid fifteen minutes contemplating whether or not I should join this thread because of that, I kinda just.. decided to.
So, woo.
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She'd lost track of time. She didn't know how long it had been since the outbreak, but all she knew was that it had ruined her life, like everyone else's.
At least it didn't take her life.
Nora walked around quietly, her feet barely skipping along the pavement. She always was light on her feet, but now that survival depended on silence, she was quieter than before. A short knife had permanently molded itself into her right hand, always in her grip and ready to be used. The sound of low groans and shuffling feet met her ears as usual- it was as common as bird's chirping. Her throat burned with a now familiar pain that only a rare substance could cure- water.
When the outbreak started, the woman didn't know where to go. She stayed at her apartment for a solid week, too scared to venture forward. She'd lived near the beach, and her first thought was to go there. It was wide, spread out.. she'd see anything walking towards her. But the sight of so much water that was undrinkable tortured her, so she fled to the city. Her senses had sharpened, as with most survivors, and she'd actually gotten good with her knife.
Now, she wandered the deteriorated city, looking around, her body tense with nerve.
(Rip, my motivation for writing kind of just.. disappeared near the end.. :w: )
 
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