Elmo's RP - London's Burning.

[UKMD Elmo]

Righto then,

Been while since I as on these forums and it occurred to me there was something I was missing; making some quality RP's for you folks. And that'll be what I'm back for.

You might remember the trilogy of CYOA games I put out set in the L4D world (of which the only consecutive survivor through all of them was Chron1c - I made them hard!) And the trilogy of RP's loosely based in the L4D world following a group of disparate survivors through many encounters, ending in a fiery climax that left only a handful standing (and only one from the original cast). Well if you enjoyed them or heard about them, I'm here to do another one, as follows:

This RP is NOT set in the L4D world, but will be a survival roleplay where you take up the role of a regular joe thrown into a nightmare world of life or death as your lives falls apart around you. The setting is modern day London, England, the first day of which is a day just like any other... but as the story progresses things start to take a turn for the worst - an unknown disease making millions sick world wide, less people on the streets, power outages, leading to full blown rioting, civil unrest and mass destruction as the worlds population drops to a mere fraction of what it was; leaving you the survivors and a handful of individuals the plague affected 'adversely'... but they will come to the story later.

Your character should be an ordinary person, I can't stress that enough. No special forces, martial arts experts, emo kids clutching photographs of loved ones every damned second, or such like that. I'll accept Police or other civilian forces, and maybe military but you have to be a damned good writer and make it fallible and believable.

Rules of the RP:

1 - The RP will be split up in chapters. If you have not posted at least one substantial segment by the time the next chapter starts your character passes over to me to do with as I please. Most likely meaning death! - Feel free to post as many times and as long as you like in each chapter however.
2 - My word is law. If I ask you to do something, change something or anything else you should comply, or your character passes over to me as per above.
3 - No sexual content and don't go over the top with bad language. Only where appropriate.
4 - Do not derail. Keep the story on track and follow the guidelines posted the start of each chapter.
5 - If you want to post off topic, do some RP'ing as well and add it to the end. Keep off topic posts to a minimum.
6 - If you have any questions on the rules, character queries or any confusion with the story - PM ME FIRST. I'll be happy to answer the question and if it means something needs editing I'll handle it.
7 - Make things believable. This is going to be a very realistic RP, so any superhuman moves or ultra skills and your character will most likely meet an ironic and untimely end.
8 - Read every single RP post from myself and other players. This is the biggest cause of inconsistencies, confusion and derailment. Read up on their characters first, it helps to picture things.
9 - Do not hurt, kill, play another person out of character or put in an overly awkward situation another player. In other words, no bullying. That's MY job! :D
10 - Have fun! These guidelines are to keep things structured, not to hinder enjoyment.

This will be my character. When you audition your character fill in all the points that I laid out or you will not be considered to join:

Player: UKMD Elmo
Name: Mike Hargreaves
Occupation: Police Constable
Age: 31
Height: 6'1''
Build Medium
Appearance: Very short black hair, slight stubble, brown eyes.
Background: Moved from Manchester to London 3 years ago for better work prospects. Has had 7 years in the police forces total, working mostly in neighbourhood and response units. No family life and lives alone, dating a succession of women. Burgeoning alcoholic but has so far not let it affect his work. Enjoys hiking, film and motorcycles.

Do not include clothing or equipment as this RP will take place over several days. Tell us in the RP what your character wears if you feel the need. Also please note my character is police to discourage the first poster from doing exactly that profession ;)

Also, don't be afraid to play an English person! We're not aliens!

I'll give you all a while to post up your characters and have a bit of banter, the deadline being Sat 21st August GMT. The RP will begin then and if anyone wishes to submit a character for consideration after must PM me with it.

There will be 10 players to start with (including myself) - if you are not picked you may join the game later if I say so after some of the players have died off... which WILL happen, if my previous RP's are anything to go off.

Okay! Over to you. RP begins 21/08/10 - so get posting!

For your reading enjoyment:

1st RP: http://www.left4dead411.com/forums/showthread.php?t=11647
2nd RP: http://www.left4dead411.com/forums/showthread.php?t=12883
3rd RP: http://www.left4dead411.com/forums/showthread.php?t=14523

[Sarah]

So kinda like Stephen King's The Stand?

Sounds cool, I'll give it a shot.

Player: Sarah
Name: Sarah "Mary Anne" Parker
Occupation: Massage Therapist
Age: 32
Height: 5' 9"
Build: Slim
Appearance: Wavy blond hair, athletic and slim figure, dark blue eyes, wears a miniature dreamcatcher around her neck.
Background: Raised on a huge Welsh farm, Sarah was raised from an early ethic with a fierce work ethic and excellent morals. She moved to England to pursue a childhood crush, which soon fell through. Heart broken, and without a penny to her name, she lives from paycheck to paycheck, trying to always put some aside, dreaming of one day returning home.

[UKMD Elmo]

So kinda like Stephen King's The Stand?

Pretty similar actualy yes! But with things lurking in the dark too.... Not just one guy with bad fashion sense and worse hair.

[Sarah]

Awesome!

I'm actually a pretty big fan of your previous RP's, can you confirm whether or not anyone from those RP's will be making an appearance, or is this a whole new story?

[Zorgy]

Long time no see elmo. Think you'll do another COYA as well? They were always the best ones in my opinion.
I might write up a character later, it's the summer holidays and I've got fuck all else to do.

[UKMD Elmo]

Awesome!

I'm actually a pretty big fan of your previous RP's, can you confirm whether or not anyone from those RP's will be making an appearance, or is this a whole new story?

Whole new story, set in a different world. The last RP in the trilogy died on its arse right near the end unfortunately, but I think the rest went pretty well :D

Nice to know there's fans out there. Too egotistic to ask which bits you liked?

[Bloodshed269]

Player: Bloodshed269
Name: Josh Huntington
Occupation: Student
Age: 16
Height: 6' 0"
Appearance: Eyebrow length blonde hair, Slightly athletic, light blue eyes, carries a plastic, green four-leaf clover coin in his pocket for good luck.
Background: Born and raised in London. Was planning a family vacation to the States, to visit family. Got separated from them in a mass panic at Heathrow, hasn't seen them since. Emotionally strong, but tends to put himself down often.

[Sarah]

Whole new story, set in a different world. The last RP in the trilogy died on its arse right near the end unfortunately, but I think the rest went pretty well :D

Nice to know there's fans out there. Too egotistic to ask which bits you liked?
Not at all. Obviously I liked the parts Mark was in, cuz he's a sexy beast, but I really liked the first one, the camaraderie and dry humor by most of the posters, as well as yourself was a refreshing change from most RPs that are "Totally srs bznzz". I really liked the Nathan character, he reminds me a bit of a certain someone.

The second one got off to a rocky start but got better and better. On the other side of the spectrum, the third one got off to a good start but slowed down and eventually, as I can see now, died.

This gets me buzzed up. I'm gonna go read the other ones now :D

[Bloodshed269]

On the other side of the spectrum, the third one got off to a good start but slowed down and eventually, as I can see now, died.


That's cause he killed me off.

[UKMD Elmo]

I posted the link to the three RP's end of the first post if anyone wants to look. They're a damned good read!

[Sarah]

I concur! Fank you, Lord knows it's hard to search for threads on here.

[Crack5800]

Well, first time on here for quite some time. Hello to all and lol, thanks to Garf pushing the subject to me I figured I would stretch my writing "legs" and give it a shot once more. After dropping the ball on the second one due to numerous reasons it would be a nice challenge to start anew in a different story environment. Nevertheless, good to be back posting on here.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Player:
Crack5800
Name:
Thomas Sulley

Occupation:
Upstarting director/film maker
Age:
24
Height:
5ft.'10in.
Weight:
182 lbs.
Build:
Average
Appearance:
Medium length brown hair; light, brown beard; green eyes with dark, evident circles underneath; *somewhat disheveled look about him*

Background:
At the age of 24, Thomas has just graduated from the Art Institute school of film and design. He is a determined, bright young man with dreams of success and a drive that will get him there. An avid lover of film and videography, Thomas has been using a camera since he was 17 years old making short films and other various projects all in the hopes of making it big in the film industry. He's taken many risks and has gambled his way to reach the point where he is now; a chance of a lifetime has been set before him. He sets his sights on what could be the chance he's been waiting, dreaming, and preparing for years. Now,he sets out for London, England in hopes to finally create his first major motion picture and have his work in the spotlight for all to see and admire.
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**Once again, if it weren't for Garf making me aware of the newest RP, I'd not be posting this, so thanks Garf. To you Elmo when you read this, I hope that it's to your liking as always my friend and btw, hope your doing well =). Good luck to all!**

[BlackCat]

Good to have you back. :)

I think I'll be joining this one, I just need to get some ideas and stuff!

[Nuttz]

Well, I might just try thi o- Wait, it's in London?

FUCK THAT SHIT.

:P

[UKMD Elmo]

Well, I might just try thi o- Wait, it's in London?

FUCK THAT SHIT.

:P

Don't be picturing everyone in England wearing bowler hats with umbrellas wearing pin stripe suits, walking around drinking tea and pims whilst looking forward to having tea with the Queen and her corgies in the afternoon over at Buckingham Palace (which is next door to your cottage)..... We're not like that!!! Setting it somewhere other than American with characters mostly other than American gives the writer a challenge more than anything. We English aint much different to you Yanks.

We just get more rain.

[REDSHARK]

Player: REDSHARK
Name: Murray McLoughlin
Age: 31
Height: 5' 4"
Build: Heavy
Appearance: Bald, shaven, brown eyes. Rosey cheeks. Reasonably strong upper body, slightly fat. Fit, but not too athletic

Background: Having taken to the sauce at an early age of 14, Murray McLoughlin took the fast track to becoming an alcoholic. He keeps as fit as he can to work off bar snacks and fast food as a member of the local rugby team. Although popular with his friends he comes from a poor Irish family with a hard childhood. Sober he's a gentle giant, but after becoming too drunk he's become known amongst his friends to become violent under little provocation. He has no experience with firearms but many unnecessary bar brawls (and two run ins with police, one involving a tazer) have made him hardy physically and something of a decent brawler. Living locally with friends, but far from family, in London with a job as a builder for a construction corporation.

Life for him is routine, for now.

[Nuttz]

We English aint much different to you Yanks.

I hope that wasn't directed at me.

[UKMD Elmo]

I hope that wasn't directed at me.

Gotcha

[Nuttz]

I'll die before I am referred to as American!

Actually probably not.

[Sarah]

I'll die before I am referred to as American!

>:C

5char

[blah]

God Save Da Queen! And all that Pillava

[Zorgy]

Player: Zorgy
Name: Stevie
Occupation: Unemployed.
Age: 22
Height: 5ft. 3 in.
Build: Slim.
Appearance: “Skin head” with blue eyes. Looks a bit like a rat. Gaunt.
Background: Growing up in the dodgy streets of inner Liverpool is tough. Stevie survived by attaching himself to other bigger and stronger boys for protection. He showed a surprising amount of intelligence in school but lacked concentration and effort. At 17 his gang robbed a small store and got arrested. The rest of the gang named Stevie as the ringleader and he ended up in prison. After serving his five years Stevie moved to London to try and get a new start, maybe even a job. But no one was looking to hire a ex con with no qualifications so in desperation he returned to his old ways and fell in with a new gang. He has a long standing cocaine addiction and some small experience with knives.

[DTard]

ELMO!!!!<3333

/caps

[Sarah]

Okay, so I talked to Mark, he said he'd probably be interested in joining and that he'd post his character up when he gets back in town later today.

[UKMD Elmo]

Okay, so I talked to Mark, he said he'd probably be interested in joining and that he'd post his character up when he gets back in town later today.

Mark being Slain? Totaly went by me you two were a couple :D

Okay, sounds good. Be cool to see his character idea and possibly have him join in! But if his previous is any to go by I won't be surprised.

Must....remain....impartial!

EDIT: Hi DTard :D you applying too mate?

Also,

God Save Da Queen! And all that Pillava

hahaha....

And also!

If I get enough applicants by the weekend I might move the start date or final players forward several days. Get posting!

[Jesus123]

Player: Jesus123
Name: Jordan
Occupation: Cashier
Age: 17
Height: 6'1''
Build Medium
Appearance: short black hair, tanned skin, brown eyes, athletic.
Background: Moved to Britain at the age of 15 with family as my Dad got a well paying job as a Military Contractor in the Middle East, so we could be closer and he could visit more frequently. Recently got a job at a local mart as a cashier and is currently living in apartment with family in London.

[SlainPwner666]

Mark being Slain? Totaly went by me you two were a couple :D

Okay, sounds good. Be cool to see his character idea and possibly have him join in! But if his previous is any to go by I won't be surprised.

Must....remain....impartial!



Yeah, we are. I hardly post on here anymore, but I 'spose I can return for some good writing. But now that I look back, seeing some of my previous characters be generic, spec ops military badasses, I decided to try a different approach this time.

Player: SlainPwner666
Name: Marcus "The Wolf" ó Cearbhaill
Occupation: Farmer's Hand [Hand: A hired worker. Not a literal hand]
Age: 29
Build: Medium
Appearance: Short blond hair, full beard, piercing stare, full jaw and nose. Quiet, spends much of his time locked in a thousand yard stare.

Background: Raised in Ireland during a bloody feud, Marcus saw his fair share of bloodshed, and the pure brutality that desperate humans are capable of. Carrying just the clothes on their back, his family made the long trek to England, being forced to fight off robbers and fellow refugees on the way. Settling down on a tiny farm, his family was stricken down by a terrible, yet perplexing and unknown sickness, leaving him deathly ill and the only survivor.

After recovering, Marcus volunteered to be a farmers hand, a backbreaking job that paid little, just the way he liked it. He gained the nickname "The Wolf" after saving a fellow hand from a pack of robbers using just a bag of seed, a machete and his bare hands.

-Might put some more in later-

[REDSHARK]

Occupation: Farmer's Hand

hehe

[Hand: A hired worker. Not a literal hand]

aww...

[Nuttz]

I'll probs put mine up tomorrow.

[BlackCat]

I think I finally got the hamster to start running on the wheel again, albeit slowly.. lol

Player: BlackCat
Name: Catelynn Sharp
Occupation: Tattoo Shop Manager
Age: 27
Height: 5'8"
Build: Slim
Appearance: Light olive complexion, green eyes, medium length dark brown hair, both arms colorful with tattoo sleeves.

Background: When she was 19 she went on vacation to New York with a small group of friends where she met her boyfriend, co-owner of the tattoo shop where the friends had decided to get tattoos commemorating their trip.

After returning to her family home in London, they kept in touch. Over time they grew tired of a long distance relationship, and she of her parents' staunch disapproval. Impulsively, he moved to London where he opened a new tattoo shop and they moved into a nice apartment together. Eventually they had a son, now 5 years old.

[UKMD Elmo]

Just a warning to everyone - great characters so far but the vast majority of them are Americans happening to be in England for whatever reason. I've decided I'll let only one of the final cast be an ex-pat yank, and if any other American characters are picked I'll be editing their nationality to be somewhere closer to home.

Feel free to edit if you like, but there's the heads up :D

[BlackCat]

I'll see if I can come up with a way to change it up.

[Sarah]

Okay, I'll edit it.

[Jesus123]

But my dad is a Military Contractor :/

[YuriTMND]

I've been on the fence about this for quite some time. But then again, I might as well attempt to apply, if not to see the horrendously dull and uneventful death this character will have.

Player: YuriTMND
Name: Christopher Wesley Channing
Occupation: On the dole
Age: 43
Height: 5'10"
Build: Overweight
Appearance: Pale skin with terrible complexion for someone of his age, has been balding since his twenties and whatever hair is left appears to be brown. Has heterochromatic eyes; one is blue, the other is green. Oh, and despite being overweight, his arms are pretty skinny.
Background: Chris had lived in the Scottish lowlands with his parents since the day he was born. Creator of a kids' comic with not so child-friendly content, Chris managed to become the laughing stock of the internet. He had put the internet and his comic behind him however and lived in relative peace for about a decade, up until his parents' death. So now on his own for the very first time of his life, Chris abandoned his parents' home and left for London.
Personality: Claims to have asperger's, which would explain his awkwardness in social situations. Other than that, Chris is a terribly bigoted man who threatens everybody who makes fun of him. Perfect example of the Small-Name Big-Ego (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SmallNameBigEgo) mentality. Is also a liar.

[Crack5800]

@ YuriTMND I think that character is interesting to be honest, lol. Would love to see him play out throughout a story setting.

[Garfsan]

Player: Garfsan
Name: Geoff Riley
Occupation: London Underground worker /Semi Pro Comic Artist
Age: 36
Height: 6'5”
Build : Tall, stocky built with a hunched over posture.
Appearance: Angular face, harsh lines with tired old emerald eyes. Long earthy unkempt hair choppily cut to an inch below the ear. Scruffy full beard. Scar above his left eye from a piercing being ripped out violently along with a misshapen nose from the same fight. Wears normal black glasses.
Background: A happy and jubilant soul, John likes to see other people happy and generally cracks jokes and the odd stupid noise to cheer others up. A Big man but he has a bigger heart.

John wanted to be a comic artist for as long as he could remember always doodling and scribbling new characters in his free time. After graduating from college and University, he hoped to jump right in and be famous overnight, however no-one was hiring, and the market had become slightly stale with the recent influx of new and fresh talent. So he spent his time doing part time commissions and prints for several popular internet web comics and after time and gaining some popularity he moved on to some actual big name comic brands like Dark Horse and Marvel. He got some small breaks and got a cult following.

His main job, which his father set him up with after graduating to help pay off half the fees was working on the underground. It was unglamorous work but it paid the bills and let him pay for his supplies and tools to do his part time trade. However money was still tight, and he frequently put himself through hell to make some extra cash.

A few years in an attack which left him with a scar above his left eye where a piercing was torn out and his nose broken by a group of skinheads. This combined with several small riots, break-ins and assaults the company paid for self defence lessons, and he followed them up by training his body when he wasn't working on his comics.

John now continues his job and hobby day to day, eager to earn as he struggles to make ends meet.

[lawlhat]

Well, hope it all goes well. I personally don't find forums reliable enough though. I prefer other corners of the internet.

[DTard]

EDIT: Hi DTard :D you applying too mate?
I would... but I'm rarely on and I'd rather not hold you guys up xD

[Paradox Viper]

I don't normally post in threads like these, but I felt obliged to note that Yuri's character name is hilarious. I'm not entirely sure why. Perhaps it's because it sounds like it's trying a bit too hard to be 'British'.

[UKMD Elmo]

I don't normally post in threads like these, but I felt obliged to note that Yuri's character name is hilarious. I'm not entirely sure why. Perhaps it's because it sounds like it's trying a bit too hard to be 'British'.

JOIN OR GTFO ;)

check my track record dude, this'll keep going. over 6 games there's only been a slight hiccup at the end of one. It'd be nice to have a mod to help keep the plebs in line too :D

[Paradox Viper]

It'd be nice to have a mod to help keep the plebs in line too :D

I won't be joining, but I will visit the thread every now and then to make sure there aren't any people trying to ruin it. Just remember that if there is someone making a problem, reporting is the fastest way to get our attention.

[Tyr]

SO we're not listening to The Clash?

[Bloodshed269]

Well, my character lives by the river, so.......

[UKMD Elmo]

Just to give you all a quick update on how this RP will play out (been working a bit on it y'see) -

The first few chapters will each encompass around 24 hours, each one covering a few days up until most of the world has been wiped out as things get worse and worse. The players won't be doing a mass meet as in previous RP's so it's up to yourselves to PM eachother to do a bit of a joint story telling from your corner of the city till we all meet, or of course do your own thing and tell the story from your own perspective.

It will also be up to each player to decide roughly how many posts they will do each chapter to cover the whole 24 hours, so if you want to team up with another player you will have to agree on this. For example, one person might post the whole 24 hours in a single post (if they're pressed for personal time), while one might spread his story out over a chapter/day in 3 posts, while 2 players might do a joint telling and take turns over half a dozen posts till the next chapter. It doesn't matter if people overtake chronologicaly, as long as you all stay within the 24 hour stretch.

Hope you all undestood that, I know it's changing it up some from the last few RP's. Should be fun if it works though! And as ususal I'll give the setting and boundaries to work within. The rest is over to you :D

[Crack5800]

Just to give you all a quick update on how this RP will play out (been working a bit on it y'see) -

The first few chapters will each encompass around 24 hours, each one covering a few days up until most of the world has been wiped out as things get worse and worse. The players won't be doing a mass meet as in previous RP's so it's up to yourselves to PM eachother to do a bit of a joint story telling from your corner of the city till we all meet, or of course do your own thing and tell the story from your own perspective.

It will also be up to each player to decide roughly how many posts they will do each chapter to cover the whole 24 hours, so if you want to team up with another player you will have to agree on this. For example, one person might post the whole 24 hours in a single post (if they're pressed for personal time), while one might spread his story out over a chapter/day in 3 posts, while 2 players might do a joint telling and take turns over half a dozen posts till the next chapter. It doesn't matter if people overtake chronologicaly, as long as you all stay within the 24 hour stretch.

Hope you all undestood that, I know it's changing it up some from the last few RP's. Should be fun if it works though! And as ususal I'll give the setting and boundaries to work within. The rest is over to you :D

Any idea Elmo when you'll have the group chosen and when you may kick this thing off?

[Bloodshed269]

Any idea Elmo when you'll have the group chosen and when you may kick this thing off?

RP begins 21/08/10

Then.

[Crack5800]

And also!

If I get enough applicants by the weekend I might move the start date or final players forward several days. Get posting![/QUOTE]

Ehhem??

[UKMD Elmo]

You'll know when I decide. That is all.

[Crack5800]

Fair enough, lol.

[UKMD Elmo]

Bumpy Bump.

Still looking for more applicants!

[REDSHARK]

I can try and get my Irish cousin GreenShark to join

[DTard]

I can try and get my Irish cousin GreenShark to join
I lol'd

But no, I'll be keeping my eye on this. It's been YEARS since I've RP'd and I remember about a 3 year long one... It never DID finish. Anyways, I wish I had the regular time to participate =/

[UKMD Elmo]

Bump for more players.

And DTard - as long as you can post at least once or twice every 5 days or so that's all I ask - and if you fall down somewhere through the RP - don't worry. Not everyone can survive :D

[SlainPwner666]

Bait for the sharks eh? I'm surprised more people aren't interested, seeing as pretty much every RP/CYAO up to this point has been a phenomenal success, even the third one, which I just as much delighted in writing in.

[Nuttz]

Yeah I'll probably write up an entry later.

[Crack5800]

11 apps thus far. I see this RP doing well considering its looking to go in another direction compared to the others by way of storytelling.

[UKMD Elmo]

We certainly have enough aps to begin, but having more options is always good. I think where it's falling down is it doesn't have the magic 'L4D' anywhere in it... even though the setting is damned similar and things will run out to a conclusion.

But hey, can't win them all. Seeing as we only got 11 apps so far I'll pick names in 6 days - Next Saturday. Applications are still open to all.

[UKMD Elmo]

There have been no further applicants so I'll pick the players and hopefully start out the RP tonight.

Anyone sitting on the fence has a few hours to put their character in before we start. Get to it! :D

[Garfsan]

I got a question about stuff your character has.

I know you said that you dont make starting gear, but how can you make fair as to what someone has in their house?

Like one guy could say theyre going to get their AR15 out the shed or their "insert weapon name here" out of "loacation a/b/c/etc"

Im just wondering how you can fix this? As this got me worried. And I dont think it will be fun if everyone goes home, pulls out a gat and caps the enemy the ass everytime they pop up. :S

Some clarification would help :)

[UKMD Elmo]

For clarity in terms of realism:

I'm relying on each player to make their character as believable as possible. In England it's very hard to find any kind of firearm at all, ammunition is even more scarce and even if you find both most people won't know how to use them in the slightest. As long as people go by that setting things should run smoothly. You are ORDINARY PEOPLE.

If anyone starts to turn themselves into some angst ridden, indestructable killing machine with assault weapons in their garden shed they will quickly find themselves dying in some humorous and ironic way. I'm trusting writers to keep their characters believable, that's all. If I have to legislate that kind of thing by enforcing stringent rules we're already in trouble :D

[Bill_the_nonchalant]

Player: Bill_The _nonchalant
Name: Berry Dunlo
Occupation: Delivery Boy
Age: 21
Height: 5'11
Build: Skinny.
Appearance: Short black hair, hazel eyes, lean

Background: Berry never had much going for him in his life, he never had nay plans once he got out of high school other than to try to make it big with his band. However, his dreams crumbled when the band parted ways. A little while after, he landed a job as a paper boy. Which helped him pay the rent with his roommate, Alex.

Notes-
The consistent bike riding has done wonders for his stamina.

[UKMD Elmo]

Right, let's get started then!

Firstly as there were 12 applicants including myself, all of which are exceeedingly good character concepts, I've decided to let every last damned one of you play. 12 isn't too many, and shutting only 2 people out would be cruel and unusual.

Please note I may have altered your character sheet, so review your own and everyone elses to get a good idea of who everyone is. Notice that Jordan (Jesus's character) is the only American - thanks to those who edited theirs to fit in better.

************************************************** ***********

Character list:

Player: UKMD Elmo
Name: Mike Hargreaves
Occupation: Police Constable
Age: 31
Height: 6'1''
Build: Medium
Appearance: Very short black hair, slight stubble, brown eyes.
Background: Moved from Manchester to London 3 years ago for better work prospects. Has had 7 years in the police forces total, working mostly in neighbourhood and response units. No family life and lives alone, dating a succession of women. Burgeoning alcoholic but has so far not let it affect his work. Enjoys hiking, film and motorcycles.

Player: Sarah - Succumbed to the Flu - 26/08/10
Name: Sarah Mary Anne Parker
Occupation: Massage Therapist
Age: 32
Height: 5' 9"
Build: Slim
Appearance: Wavy blond hair, athletic and slim figure, dark blue eyes, wears a miniature dreamcatcher around her neck.
Background: Raised on a huge Welsh farm, Sarah was raised from an early ethic with a fierce work ethic and excellent morals. She moved to England to pursue a childhood crush, which soon fell through. Heart broken, and without a penny to her name, she lives from paycheck to paycheck, trying to always put some aside as she considers one day returning home.

Player: Bloodshed269
Name: Josh
Occupation: Student (first year sixth form)
Age: 16
Height: 6' 0"
Appearance: Eyebrow length blonde hair, Slightly athletic, light blue eyes, carries a plastic, green four-leaf clover coin in his pocket for good luck.
Background: Born and raised in London. Was planning a family vacation to the States, to visit family. Got separated from them one day earlier at Heathrow airport and has been unable to locate them since. Emotionally strong, but tends to put himself down often.

Player: Crack5800
Name: Thomas Sulley
Occupation: Upstarting director/film maker
Age: 24
Height: 5ft.'10in.
Weight: 182 lbs.
Build: Average
Appearance: Medium length brown hair; light, brown beard; green eyes with dark, evident circles underneath; *somewhat disheveled look about him*
Background: At the age of 24, Thomas has just graduated from the London Film School. He is a determined, bright young man with dreams of success and a drive that will get him there. An avid lover of film and videography, Thomas has been using a camera since he was 17 years old making short films and other various projects all in the hopes of making it big in the film industry. He's taken many risks and has gambled his way to reach the point where he is now; a chance of a lifetime has been set before him. He sets his sights on what could be the chance he's been waiting, dreaming, and preparing for years. Now he's set himself up in his home town of London in hopes to finally create his first major motion picture and have his work in the spotlight for all to see and admire.

Player: REDSHARK
Name: Murray McLoughlin
Age: 31
Height: 5' 4"
Build: Heavy
Appearance: Bald, shaven, brown eyes. Rosey cheeks. Reasonably strong upper body, slightly fat. Fit, but not too athletic
Background: Having taken to the sauce at an early age of 14, Murray McLoughlin took the fast track to becoming an alcoholic. He keeps as fit as he can to work off bar snacks and fast food as a member of the local rugby team. Although popular with his friends he comes from a poor Irish family with a hard childhood. Sober he's a gentle man, but after becoming too drunk he's become known amongst his friends to become violent under little provocation. He has no experience with firearms but many unnecessary bar brawls (and two run ins with police, one involving a tazer) have made him hardy physically and something of a decent brawler. Living locally with friends, but far from family, in London with a job as a builder for a construction corporation.

Player: Zorgy
Name: Stevie
Occupation: Unemployed.
Age: 22
Height: 5ft. 3 in.
Build: Slim.
Appearance: “Skin head” with blue eyes. Looks a bit like a rat. Gaunt.
Background: Growing up in the deprived streets of inner Liverpool is tough. Stevie survived by attaching himself to other bigger and stronger boys for protection. He showed a surprising amount of intelligence in school but lacked concentration and effort. At 17 his gang robbed a small store and got arrested. The rest of the gang named Stevie as the ringleader and he ended up in prison. After serving his five years Stevie moved to London to try and get a new start, maybe even a job. But no one was looking to hire a ex con with no qualifications so in desperation he returned to his old ways and fell in with a new gang. He has a long standing cocaine addiction and some small experience with knives.

Player: Jesus123
Name: Jordan
Occupation: Cashier
Age: 17
Height: 6'1''
Build : Medium
Appearance: short black hair, tanned skin, brown eyes, athletic.
Background: Moved to Britain at the age of 15 with family as his father got a well paying job as a Military Contractor in the Middle East, so he could be closer and he could visit more frequently. Recently got a job at a local supermarket as a cashier and is currently living in an apartment with his family in London.

Player: SlainPwner666 - succumbed to the flu 26/08/20
Name: Marcus "The Wolf" ó Cearbhaill
Occupation: Hired Hand
Age: 29
Build: Medium
Appearance: Short blond hair, full beard, piercing stare, full jaw and nose. Quiet, spends much of his time locked in a thousand yard stare.
Background: Raised in Ireland during a bloody feud between his Father and a local criminal, Marcus saw his fair share of bloodshed, and the pure brutality that desperate humans are capable of. Carrying just the clothes on their back, his family decided to move to London for a fresh start but managed to be robbed of what little they had on the way . Settling down on a sprawling council estate, his family was stricken down by a terrible, yet perplexing and unknown sickness, leaving him deathly ill and the only survivor.
After recovering Marcus moved in with a farmer and his family south of Cambridge as a hired hand, a backbreaking job that paid little - just the way he liked it. He gained the nickname "The Wolf" after fending off local thuigs with his bare hands, a bag of seed grain and a hatchet.


Player: BlackCat - Succumbed to the Flu - 26/08/10
Name: Catelynn Sharp
Occupation: Tattoo Shop Manager
Age: 27
Height: 5'8"
Build: Slim
Appearance: Light olive complexion, green eyes, medium length dark brown hair, both arms colorful with tattoo sleeves.
Background: When she was 19 she went on vacation to New York with a small group of friends where she met her boyfriend, co-owner of the tattoo shop where the friends had decided to get tattoos commemorating their trip.
After returning to her family home in London, they kept in touch. Over time they grew tired of a long distance relationship, and she of her parents' staunch disapproval. Impulsively, he moved to London where he opened a new tattoo shop and they moved into a nice apartment together. Eventually they had a son, now 5 years old.

Player: YuriTMND
Name: Christopher Wesley Channing
Occupation: On the dole
Age: 43
Height: 5'10"
Build: Overweight
Appearance: Pale skin with terrible complexion for someone of his age, has been balding since his twenties and whatever hair is left appears to be brown. Has heterochromatic eyes; one is blue, the other is green. Oh, and despite being overweight, his arms are pretty skinny.
Background: Chris had lived in the Scottish lowlands with his parents since the day he was born. Creator of a kids' comic with not so child-friendly content, Chris managed to become the laughing stock of the internet. He had put the internet and his comic behind him however and lived in relative peace for about a decade, up until his parents' death. So now on his own for the very first time of his life, Chris abandoned his parents' home and left for London.
Personality: Claims to have asperger's, which would explain his awkwardness in social situations. Other than that, Chris is a terribly bigoted man who threatens everybody who makes fun of him. Perfect example of the Small-Name Big-Ego mentality. Is also a liar.

[UKMD Elmo]

Player: Garfsan
Name: Geoff Riley
Occupation: London Underground worker /Semi Pro Comic Artist
Age: 36
Height: 6'5”
Build : Tall, stocky built with a hunched over posture.
Appearance: Angular face, harsh lines with tired old emerald eyes. Long earthy unkempt hair choppily cut to an inch below the ear. Scruffy full beard. Scar above his left eye from a piercing being ripped out violently along with a misshapen nose from the same fight. Wears normal black glasses.
Background: A happy and jubilant soul, John likes to see other people happy and generally cracks jokes and the odd stupid noise to cheer others up. A Big man but he has a bigger heart.
Geoff wanted to be a comic artist for as long as he could remember always doodling and scribbling new characters in his free time. After graduating from college and University, he hoped to jump right in and be famous overnight, however no-one was hiring, and the market had become slightly stale with the recent influx of new and fresh talent. So he spent his time doing part time commissions and prints for several popular internet web comics and after time and gaining some popularity he moved on to some actual big name comic brands like Dark Horse and Marvel. He got some small breaks and got a cult following.
His main job, which his father set him up with after graduating to help pay off half the fees was working on the underground. It was unglamorous work but it paid the bills and let him pay for his supplies and tools to do his part time trade. However money was still tight, and he frequently put himself through hell to make some extra cash.
A few years in an attack which left him with a scar above his left eye where a piercing was torn out and his nose broken by a group of skinheads. This combined with several small riots, break-ins and assaults the company paid for self defence lessons, and he followed them up by training his body when he wasn't working on his comics.
Geoff now continues his job and hobby day to day, eager to earn as he struggles to make ends meet.

Player: Bill_The _nonchalant
Name: Berry Dunlo
Occupation: Delivery Boy/courier
Age: 21
Height: 5'11
Build: Skinny.
Appearance: Short black hair, hazel eyes, lean
Background: Berry never had much going for him in his life, he never had any plans once he got out of high school other than to try to make it big with his band. However, his dreams crumbled when the band parted ways. A little while after, he landed a job as a paper boy and a cycle courier. Which helped him pay the rent with his roommate, Alex.

************************************************** ********

Take time to read through all of the above.

I'll try and post the first chapter tomorrow if I can, Wednesday the latest. Just so you know we'll be starting slow so the first part will be each of your characters going through your daily chores with only rumours and hearsay of the shitstorm about to let loose on you all. If you wish to joint-write with any other player in the first chapter please agree to do this via PM... Otherwise you'll all be alone for now, and for a good deal of the RP.

This is about how each of you manage to survive, on your own.

Wait for me to do the first post and set the scene before you all pile in, but I'm honoured to be setting out another RP for you all (and posibly the start of a trilogy)

Right, with that over - get some of your off topicnesses out of the way.... :D

[Crack5800]

Ready to RP =D Oh and also wanted to state that my avatar IS my character, lol.

[Zorgy]

Woo! Looking forward to it.

[Bill_the_nonchalant]

Never actually been in an RP on this site. Look forward to it.

I may be a little flimsy on my writing, seeing as I've never done this before.

[SlainPwner666]

Never actually been in an RP on this site. Look forward to it.

I may be a little flimsy on my writing, seeing as I've never done this before.

Well, welcome to your first RP, I'll tell you what they told me the first time I tried [and failed] at RPing.

1. Controlling is a big no-no.

Controlling is basically using someone else's character for your own purposes without getting permission to first. It's annoying and gives the impression that you're trying to control the RP.

2. Keep it believable.

Having your character become an unstoppable uber badass with knives for hands and guns for testicles may seem exciting to you, but it kills all possible immersion and ruins the fun for the others. Doing this in an Elmo RP almost always leads to your character's embarrassing demise.

3. Use good grammar and spelling.

Self explanatory.

But good luck, and welcome. Can't wait to get this sucker started.

[BlackCat]

Never actually been in an RP on this site. Look forward to it.

I may be a little flimsy on my writing, seeing as I've never done this before.

Same. First ever for me. Will be cool to see it play out. :)

[Crack5800]

I learned that it was always good to just check with the experienced RP'ers as well as Elmo as to what are the best things or advisable things to do in RP's. That greatly helped me out in my first RP with Elmo and co. Lol, I bet I asked Elmo a question every other day on as to what would be the best choice and what would be the most coherent way to help continue the story. It all boils down to what the others have posted previous and what is the 'theme' of the current 'chapter' that is currently in 'play'. Also, be aware of how much you control others.

Looking forward to another interesting RP...

[Jesus123]

I was about to rage because I forgot when we were gonna start this.

[UKMD Elmo]

Chapter 1: Rumours

Mike yawned and stretched back in his chair while simultaneously reaching for his morning coffee and feeling like it was going to take at least three more before he woke up properly. It was 7.20am on a Wednesday morning at the police station and things were getting off to a very quiet start. Half the PCSO's had called in sick, most of the constables were on secondment outside of their division and he had noticed even the familiar sight of the caretaker's old 4x4 was absent from the car park at the side of the two-storie building when he came in. Instead the office had half a dozen people in it, some in uniform and some not, all typing absent mindedly at their keyboards as if they would much rather be in bed. He sympathised.

The morning report was the usual list of robberies, break-ins and stolen vehicles as well as several fresh assignements to look into some of them, as if he didn't already have enough on his plate with his usual partner PC Smith off sick the last two days with some kind of flu. He cracked a smile at that, figuring she had probably unwittingly given it to half the office before she went off if todays numbers were anything to go off. Mike noticed the sergeant's office was open, and with a steadily mounting pile of paperwork in front of him he decided a five minute talk with the old guy was probably called for, seeing as most people that morning seemed too involved with whatever workload they had to even look up from their monitors.

"Sarge" he called out, tapping on the door and stepping casualy into the room. Sgt Harris was sitting at his desk, looking like death warmed up as he nursed his cup of tea with one hand and his forehead with the other. "You alright Sarge? Looks like most of the office is going down with something" he added, perching himself on the corner of an opposing desk and taking another sip from his own drink. The older man took a few too many seconds than were comfortable to respond, seeming to suddenly be aware of Mike's presence and sit up a little straighter.

"Yes mate, looks like it. Most of them have called in sick today so we're a little short handed today. You get my email?" the Sargeant asked.

"Yes sarge, more things for me to take a look at" He said with a grin. Harris knew who did what and how much in his team and Mike knew he wouldn't be handing out more work to one of his more dilligent officers if he didn't have any other choice. "I'll take care of it. What's staffing on response today?"

"Almost as bad as the neighbourhood teams, but not quite. They're canceling weekends and paying out overtime like I've hardly ever seen to keep bobbies on the street. Just one of those things I suppose" He added, coughing once into his hand and almost spilling some of the steaming hot tea onto his lap.

"Right. I'll be in here for a bit if you need us" Mike said, nodding and walking out of the office towards his desk in the corner. He hadn't gone more than two feet before his earpiece started squawking as the comms officer started calling for more officers to attend a nearby estate where thieves had been spotted climbing the roof of a house. He recognised the address as being slap bang in the middle of his beat, and considering he was the only one of two PC's available from the office (the other who was busy dealing with offenders in custody), he sighed and grabbed his radio transmit button.

"Bravo 2, show me to it." he said, nodding to himself when they sent back the acknowledgement. "So much for the paperwork" he mumbled to himself as he grabbed his belt kit and exited the door. As he made his way down the stairs to the car park he shrugged off some of the bad mood he was in, reminding himself how much he hated being in an office anyway.

'I can just tell it's going to be a busy day' He thought to himself, grabing some keys from a hook and stepping outside into the cool autumn morning.

************************************************** ***********

Over to you!

The first chapter will cover the first day, but no further. Feel free to pace yourself as much as you like, as long as all you want to type is done by the start of the next chapter.

On the first day, things are much like any other day. This is the chance for your character to tell the other players a bit about him/herself, going through a normal day and doing normal things. During the course of the day you may notice how a lot of people are off sick, or how there are a few less people or cars on the street, or how some work colleagues don't look to well. This hasn't attracted any media attention yet. Don't take these themes any further, that's for later on in the story.

Also, please for the love of god not too many OT posts (but feel free to add things to the end of a story piece you write).

AND NO-ONE TYPE ANYTHING SIMILAR TO "I'LL POST SOMETHING TOMORROW/THIS WEEKEND/NEXT FEW HOURS". You post or you don't, telling us you're going to does nothing for any of us :D

Later in the RP most or all of the players will team up, but if you want to start joint writing your story with another player now please arrange this between yourselves through PM.

Next Chapter starts on Monday 23rd August.

You may now being!

[Zorgy]

You may now being!

Yay! I'll post mine up in a hour or two.

[SlainPwner666]

Marcus stepped over the bodies of several local hired thugs, grinning like a madman. Who knows, maybe he was. But true madmen never questioned their sanity. It was a thought for another time.

He strolled right up to the beautiful oak door, blood covered hatchet glistening in his hand, and gave the door a strong kick, sending it flying inside. Inside, He stood, just as Marcus remembered him. Clad in fine garments, a crooked sneer making his normally handsome face seem alien and ugly.

"Been a long time coming, I hope you know."

He stepped into the light, which reflected off his Machete. The sneer disappeared. Marcus thought he should deliver a bit of speech, like he had seen in the rare movie. But nothing came to mind. With a sneer of his own, he snarled and leapt at the man, blade held over his head......

He awoke, glistening in sweat, his heart racing and a scream in his throat. The sun shone in through the only open window in his small room. The beautiful landscape did wonders to calm his heart and soothe his mind. He heard footsteps, and suddenly the other two hired hands, Kalihl and Stephen, and the maid, Miss Robertson, burst in. Kalihl held a small hatchet, Stephen a machete, and Miss Robertson had managed to scrounge a small knife from the kitchen cabinet.

"You alright, lad?" Stephen asked worriedly "We could hear ye screamin' from outside, we were sure ye were dead."

"Aye, I'm fine. I thank ye for the concern though. Why Kal, I din't know ye cared."

"Aw fuck you. I'll watch your back, so long as you don't expect me to run every time you dream about missing the book of the month club."

Marcus had to smile. Kalihl and him had been fast friends ever since they met while working the same patch of corn. He was middle eastern, darkly tanned but with the whitest smile he had ever seen. He towered head and shoulders over anyone on the farm, and Marcus would've bet his last dollar that he saw him lift an entire tree over his shoulder once, carrying it back to the house to use as firewood.

Stephen and Kalihl left without a word, leaving Miss Robertson. She glanced with disapproval at the small quarters, holding only a bed, a small dresser, and a closet. She had asked him about it once, and he had answered that he believed that the man made his quarters, not the other way around.

She had to admit that she had a bit of a soft spot for him, though nothing romantic. She knew that the bond they shared was that of friendship, nothing more. If anything, she pitied him, after managing to get his life story out of a drunken Stephen. She knew that if she tried to get any additional details, he would just clam up and go into one of his long sessions of staring at a wall, as he usually did. But she did her best to sneak him an extra spoonful of soup in his daily rations at night, usually bribing the cook with some whiskey.

Without another word, she nodded and walked out, closing the door behind her. Marcus sighed and rose, stretching to work out the knots in his back that always came with sleeping on his hard old bed. Throwing on his simple shirt and jeans, he decided against taking his flask of "Lemonade", as he told anyone who asked him about it.

Stepping outside, he sniffed at the English air, and snorted his approval. Without a word, he fell in line behind Stephen to get his tools, his breakfast, and his assignment for the day.

[Crack5800]

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The alarm clock wailed loudly beside Thomas's head as he groggily shifted his blurred morning vision onto the wailing machine.

"Gahh..." he moaned out as he rubbed his eyes to see the blue lights of the clock read 7:30 a.m.

He slowly took his arm which was comfortably underneath an array of blankets and sluggishly tapped the snooze button silencing the clock's ongoing alarm. He pushed himself up and sat up erect on the side of the bed with his feet now touching the cold, creaky hardwood floor his is one bedroom apartment. Slowly rising to his feet, he stretched his arms high and arched his spine some, feeling the crackling and popping of joints that had not been moved in hours. He looked back down at the clock, which also was a FM/AM radio and turned the dial to BBC London 94.9 FM to hear the systematic news readings coming from a seemingly sophisticated young female, and the occasional comedic tie-ins of an older male who's names he really didn't listen for.

Opening the blinds he saw that it was another decent looking morning for this time of year. The Sun was shining behind a few idle floating clouds and as he stared out. He could feel the warmth of its rays on his bare skin. Sighing and smiling for a moment, he glanced over to the calender posted on the wall beside his bed and saw it was mid-August now. He had been living in his apartment now for six months and even though he was barely getting by at times, he was happy for the independence and the freedom to do his work. Turning his eyes back to the view outside he noticed that it was unusually slow for this time of day considering that it was in middle of the work week. He glanced back to the calender once more to reaffirm the day it was,

"Wednesday..." he paused as he looked at the calender questionably.

Suddenly he realized that it was less than two days before he had to plan with the rest of his production crew for next week's shooting schedule and start assembling the actors. Panic, and stress began to settle in as he realized that he was beginning to be pressed for time and was unable to keep track of everything that was needing to be done to get the film underway.

"For fucks sake, I gotta get a shower and get going" he mumbled to himself.

He hastily made his way behind the bar counter separating the bedroom/living area and the kitchen area of the apratment over to his fridge to try and find something to quick to eat. Searching the contents of his fridge (which were scarce to say the least) he found a bag labeled, "Cinnamon and raisin bagels!" and a half of jug of milk. Opening the bag he found only three bagels left. He grabbed one and began gnawing on it and quickly washing it down with the jug of milk. He licked his lips together and then widened his eyes as he looked at the date on the milk jug, July 27th, 2010. He brushed the sickening notion aside and put the jug back in the fridge and slammed the door cramming the last bite of bagel into his mouth.

As he walked across the cramped, messy apartment kicking up old newspapers, magazines and almost tripping over one his filming technique books he saw the light blinking on the answering machine of his phone. He pressed the button as he began to walk to the bathroom to ready his shower. As the water of the shower began to heat up, he could hear distinctly it was his mother's soft and worried voice on the machine, but he paid no attention to it as he stepped into the shower.

"Hello Thomas, its mum! I just wanted to see how you were doing. It's been quite a long time since you've called, but I know you've been busy what with your finishing school and starting up your first big film and all. Don't worry about last month's and this month's rent, we've already taken care of it and Mrs. Flowers won't bother you about it anymore. You really need to take better care of yourself and need to be careful about how you spend your money Thomas.

Anyways, everything is alright here, dad and Scott are doing alright, though Scott has been feeling under the weather as of late. Come to think of it, Mrs. Pilgrim next door has also been feeling down as well. Probably the flu or something going around or allergies I'm not sure. Try to stop by and visit us soon Tom, we miss you, it's been 6 months since we last saw you. I love you and everyone else sends their love too. Be safe and I'll talk to you soon."

The machine then fell silent as Thomas stepped out of the shower. He hastily dried himself off, dabbed on some deodorant, and took the bottle of mouth wash he had next to his sink and poured a small amount into his mouth and swished it around hoping to kill his morning breath. Spitting out the mouthwash he looked in the mirror at his face and as he ran his hand across the stubble of hair that was beginning to grow out upon his face, he saw he really needed a shave, but opted not to as he was pressed for time. Picking up a comb, he combed his hair down as best as possible trying to have some look of organization about him. He walked over to his dresser and grabbed a pair of underwear and socks and put them on, hoping they were at least partially clean. Kneeling down onto his floor he picked up his green t-shirt, and navy blue cargo pants putting them as he mumbled to himself,

"I gotta get pictures of the different shooting locations, and I... I have to get the equipment checked and ready AND I really need to let Jerry know about the change of dialog in the fifth scene."

He grabbed his black windbreaker jacket and then proceeded to pick up his brown camera bag containing his photography camera and his filming camera. As he he looked around his apartment, he remembered he also need the copy of his script as well and found it lying on the kitchen counter/bar and placed the copy of the script inside the bag with his cameras. Finally, he grabbed the black, tripod bag and threw it, along with the other bag across his left shoulder, hastily slapped on his wristwatch, grabbed his room key and made his way out of the room locking the door behind him mumbling to himself still.

*Next post pending story update...*

[Bill_the_nonchalant]

The sound of the shower ceased, leaving only a few drops behind to pat against the bowl. Berry pulled back the curtain, grabbing a towel from the rack on his door. He dried himself off, waving the towel through his short black hair. He moved across the room, wrapping the towel around his waist. Looking in the mirror, Berry gave himself a small grin, his eyes not falling through with the attempt at a pleasant morning. His face became emotionless. At this, Berry cocked an eyebrow for a moment as he reached for his toothbrush.

Moments later, Berry emerged from the bathroom. He stopped before his door and looked behind him at the still door which still sat closed. Usually by this point his roommate would have been awake and sitting at the table drinking his cup. Berry wrinkled his brow, a small Hmm emitted from him as he opened the door into his room. Within, Berry put on some fresh clothes, combed his hair, and applied deodorant.

When he stepped out, he saw that Alex’s door was still closed. Berry stepped forward and knocked once. He listened for a moment, but heard no response. He knocked again. “You alright in there?” He asked. There was still no response. Berry grabbed the knob on the door. “I’m coming in.”
Berry stepped into Alex’s room, a mess of one if he ever saw worse. He looked across the room to his roommate’s bed. Alex still lied within it, his eyes open however.

“You alright, mate?” He asked, still moving across the room, pushing random junk aside with his feet. He stood near the bed for a moment, checking Alex’s appearance. He looked pale, but the most noticeable trait was simply his tiredness.

Alex shook his head. “I feel worse than I ever have.” He looked up at Berry, rubbing his forehead. “Can you- can you get me the phone? I think I’ll sleep this off.” He said with a painful grin.

“Sure thing, man.” Berry said as he turned and left the room. He turned down the short hallways and took a right into the living room. The puke coloured walls clashed heavily with the sick white carpet. A single brown couch sat in the middle of it, facing a decent sized television. Beside the couch sat an end table with the phone charger sitting on it. Berry grabbed the phone off the charger and returned it to Alex’s room.

“Thanks.” Alex simply responded as he received the phone and began dialling. Berry looked over Alex’s bed to the streets below. For 7:50 AM, the streets were still less crowded than usual.

“Traffic looks good today. “ He said as he began to walk out of the room. He stopped at the doorway and looked at Alex. “Maybe everyone feels the same way you do.” He said with a grin. He made some breakfast and returned to his room to grab his helmet from the closet. As he reached the door, he called “see you later.” To Alex and left the apartment.

[SlainPwner666]

"Alright. Listen up lads, today's gonna be a busy day."

Despite looking like a skeleton with hair, Bruce Wikuga, the owner of the farm, actually just celebrated his 40th birthday a few weeks ago, and was in top physical shape. He sniffled for just a second, spit on the dirt to his left, and then cleared his throat.

"Okay. So, I need one of you to head into London and drop off this order. Uh... Marcus, you do that. Stephen, I want you to hitch up Bessie and Magoo and plow the new quarter acre up the road, we'll be using that one for wheat. Kalihl, I want you to break in the newest colt today. Don't spook it."

The three grunted in unison, and without another word parted ways. Marcus made it about halfway down the road when he heard Bruce yell.

"Oi! You planning on walking to London?"

In his hand, he jingled a set of car keys. Color briefly rising to his cheeks, he jogged back up the road. Bruce flung them with a sideways toss as he neared, and Marcus just barely caught them.

"Ye crazy wanker! You could've taken me eye out with those!"

"I think you'll survive. You'd best get started now, if you're gonna make it back before sundown."

Marcus swore under his breath and slowed his pace, walking into the stable, which had long since been converted for the use of cars and the farm's many pieces of equipment. Slouching behind the wheel of the old sedan, Marcus noted the familiar roar of the engine. It was his favorite car, indeed, the only one he had ever driven. Bruce had taught him to drive when he first showed up on the farm, and Marcus was a quick learner.

Easing onto the road, Marcus noted the beautiful countryside and decided that maybe, just maybe, this was going to be a good day.

[REDSHARK]

(Below paragraph is set in Wednesday morning, time approximately 9:00am

Murray’s eyes slowly unglued themselves to reveal an expansive carpet landscape. A few blinks and a sledgehammer of pain his head. He groggily pulled himself up with the aid of a nearby wooden table, as his knees shivered. Nausea followed once he had reached a standing position, half awake he lead himself with a deformity of haste to the bathroom where he talked on the big white telephone. Two powerful streams of vomit left his mouth and a grim remainder dripped down his chin. After the deed was done he pulled himself up to the sink. He washed out his mouth and took 3 panadol. With one last effort he threw himself awkwardly into bed. Blacking out.

“Ugh… ”. Murray’s eyes peeled to grasp a vision of the clock:

5:36pm

The majority of the hangover had passed, now Murray was hungry. He lumbered his way into the kitchen, pulled out two slices of roughage bread, dumping them on the bench. Opening the fridge he rummaged blindly until he grabbed the familiar shape of a packet of streaky bacon. Upon frying 6 of the pieces, he threw in some steak leftovers from yesterday. Sealing the meat in between the bread, he pulled a can of guinness out of the fridge to accompany it and sat on his favourite chair in his bedroom/lounge.

Instead of reaching for the remote he took a nearby phone, crunching numbers he raised the phone to a red ear.
“Yeah who iz et?” A sick voice inquired
“Mornin’ Johnny!” Murray’s voice boomed
“Aw fuck off ray” Johnny replied
“Oh sorry mate” Murray said apologetically stifling a giggle “You’re not telling me you have hangover are you? Don’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure you ditched us to go for that bombshell”
“Yeah well, turns out she was already taken…” Johnny informed nursing his jaw “meant to meet up with you guys but I felt tired.”
“You felt, tried?”
“Yep”
“Suuuuure mailbox” Murray said half mockingly with Johnny’s pet name. “Well anyway you sound like shit frankly, get some sleep alright; I’ll buy you a beer sometime, hehe.”
Johnny groaned as a tone echoed in Murray’s ear.

Placing the phone down Murray switched on a small colour television, took a bite into his sandwich and began watching the sports channel, formula 1 cars were racing. Thanks to a convenient delay in building materials, Murray had the week off, he planned to make the most of it through the bottom of a beer stein. He stretched his legs and took in a gulp from his can and mentally cheered on the English car.

Unknowingly, after having wiped the crumbs of his shirt, he sunk further into the chair and dozed off when the ads began savaging the screen.

(Edited to make timescale more obvious, sorry for the confusion)

[UKMD Elmo]

RP NOTE:

Great posts so far! Also, nobody be thrown by Redshark's timescale in his post - while we're all seperate in the first chapter you can go at your own pace (as I see most people are still in the morning). This may change later, but for now do what you feel - as long as you DO NOT go into the second day.

[Jesus123]

*Waking up, 7:30 A.M.*
Sounds of bird chirping filled the air around Jordan as he rosed for his daily routine of getting ready for the day. The rather cramp apartment he shared with his step-mom and step-brother always made him homesick when he thought about it. His four other brothers, sister, and mom were still residing there, adding strain to the lifestyle he had to adapt here in Britain. As Jordan started to get into deep-thought about his family, his two Labradors crashed through his bedroom door and greeted him with barks and licks to the face as they jumped onto his bed. He took off his blanket cover, and climbed out of bed and started heading towards the kitchen as the pups followed for morning food. While there he made himself some cereal and filled the pups food bowl and water bowl. Afterwards he takes a visit to the bathroom to get ready for work at the local grocery store......

*9 Hours Later...*

Closing up his register, clocking in his hours, he walks out of the mart after another exhausting day of petty work. While in the parking lot he hears screaming, and quickly glances to the direction of the sound and see's a woman panicking for some reason at her car. He starts to walk over to see what's going on when he realizes the idiot locked herself out of her own vehicle, and was enraged over it. Silently chuckling to himself, Jordan walks back to his bike and rides back home which is only five blocks away. Riding home he see's very little traffic which is usually out of the ordinary for a place like London. After getting home he's greeted by his step-mom and his given the usual, "How was work today?" and with a reply of, "O.K. I guess" Jordan makes his way to his room. Taking off his work clothes, getting back into his regular clothing, he makes his way to his computer where he dicks around for a few hours.

*Sleep time, 9 P.M.*

Getting off his computer, Jordan goes into the kitchen to get something to eat, afterwards getting a shower. He goes back into his room to watch TV for awhile but for some reason, every channel is out. Not caring, he lays down for yet another boring day of nothing to do. The only thing to look forward to, is his Dad is coming back in a week. Going into deep-thought while laying down, Jordan drifts into sleep.

*EDIT*

Yes, I know mine isn't quite detailed but it doesn't matter for me personally. When we actually head into the apocalypse I'll put more emphasis on detail around me and my character.

[Crack5800]

The morning air filled Thomas's lungs as he made began to make his way to the inner districts of downtown London. He began noticing the lack of vehicles and pedestrians and it somewhat made him feel uneasy. A Wednesday and thus far he's yet to really experience any sort of hustle and bustle. It was surprising to say the least. He looked down at his watch, 8:30 a.m the watch read and he let out a brief sigh of relief. He began opening up his brown, camera bag and started to reach for his photography camera.

"At least I have time to get some shots of the possible shooting locations throughout the city" he thought to himself as he pulled out his camera.

He stopped as he began walking across a bridge connecting the his neighborhood of his apartment to the larger part of London. He began slowing his pace to a casual walk as he stared around with an inquisitive look about him. He watched for a moment as a river of water flowed underneath. The calmness of the flowing water and how the bridge in the foreground of the larger part of London really gave him a creative spark. The bridge struck him as a location that could really provide a scenic opening shot for the film. Either way, Thomas decided the bridge could prove very useful for shooting purposes.

Raising up his camera he began taking a few steps back to have more of the bridge in frame. He began snapping photo after photo. Each shot he made sure to acquire as much detail as he could of the bridge. He held the camera out from him for a moment, sighed and smiled. It was the most at peace he had felt since he had woken up earlier that morning. He was doing what he loved, film and photography. It was what he felt really gave him a sense of purpose, a sense of drive in his life and it was how he felt he was able to really feel alive, his passion. His whole life all he had ever wanted to do was create something truly entertaining as well as artistic and show it to the masses for all to admire.

He saw a flock of birds fly overhead and was able to quickly snap a photo of them flying over the bridge at the same time.

"Nice shot!" he said to himself cheerfully.

He began to review the shots he had taken via his lcd screen on his camera. As he smiled in approval he looked down at his watch and sighed. Adjusting the lens of his camera, he spoke aloud,

"One more should be enough."

He held the lens to his right eye, and took a step to his left, and then back one more step. As he stepped back he bumped into someone and without a moments pause, Thomas nervously span around startled and surprised. He saw the face of a sickly looking older man, probably in his 50's, giving him a blank stare and then shouting out angrily,

"Watch *cough, COUGH* what your doing!" the man said looking Thomas in the eyes with a cold stare.

Thomas licked his lips quickly and nervously replied,

"I'm s-sorry, please excuse me I was just-"

"Bahh!" the man sharply interrupted and continued on his way without letting Thomas finish his sentence and hastily walked by him coughing and sniffling deeply as he did.

As he watched the man disappear across the bridge he wondered why he was so sour towards him? He had only lightly bumped into the man and it appeared he hadn't physically hurt him in any way. So why was he so agitated by the incident? He saw the man had appeared sickly, so he assumed it must he his illness causing him such grief. Thomas confusingly shook his head, held up the camera and snapped one last photo of the bridge. He put his camera back into his bag and began his way across the bridge still somewhat perturbed by the incident with the man he had moments ago.

Stepping into the larger part of London usually meant three things. One, lots of noise from all of the hustle and bustle of commuters. Two, traffic beyond belief and three, people themselves out walking taking care of business, or going to and from work. However, as Thomas began making his way further into the city, he saw an unusually low amount of all three. It made him feel a mix of surprise and happiness at the fact he wouldn't have to deal with so much traffic and people to get to Jerry and the others who were apart of his production crew were all supposed to meet Thomas in Leicester Square. Thomas, who lived in the Southwark-Lewisham area, had somewhat of a trip ahead of him, but not enough to cause him to be late. He was happy to see that his walk wouldn't be hindered especially when time was of the essence with only two days before shooting was to begin.

Walking across the street Thomas could begin hearing the wailing of a police car at the far end of the street he had just crossed. As he finished crossing the somewhat deserted street, he saw the police car come into view and begin drawing closer to him as it seemed to actually have something to respond to on a slow and quiet day such as today. The car sped right past Thomas and for a moment, he was able to catch a glimpse of the officer driving the car. He appeared to have short, black hair and a jacket on but he couldn't tell much else as he had already passed Thomas and continued on down the almost empty street.

Thomas shook the notion that something could be wrong on a day like today and looked up into the sky for a moment. The Sun was still shining surprisingly and the number of clouds in the sky had also accumulated some, but overall, the day was a rare quiet, and calm day. Thomas looked down at his watch, 9:00 a.m. Thomas sighed, and realized that he still needed to take more photographs for the storyboards he almost certainly knew Jerry would want to create to help pre-plan for the film. He pulled out his camera and continued on down the street hoping to find a few more of London's numerous landmarks and beautiful scenery to take pictures of.

He smiled knowing that today, might not turn out so bad as he initially planned out. He thought about even surprising his mom later on today after he met with the production crew, and see her and the rest of his family. Thomas began making his way into the inner district of London as he continued to think on what needed to be done to get filming underway as soon as possible.


*Next post pending story update...*

[Zorgy]

Stevie clung to the edge of the rooftop and prayed. In the distance he could the faint but unmistakable sound of police sirens.
And they were getting closer.

Stevie's heart sank. "Shit." this was meant to be easy. Last night in the pub Rich have convinced him to come out on a "job" with him. He needed someone to look out for him and Stevie needed money. They'd started out early in the morning and it was going well enough, Stevie even began to enjoy it. They brought a ladder with them and had set it up in a small allyway at the back of the house. No one had seen them and it seemed like the house was empty. It was going perfectly.

Until Stevie fell off the roof.

He had been checking along the edge of the roof for a open window they could sneak in when he put his foot in the gutterway and it snapped right off. Stevie lost his footing and began to fall. Somehow, due to some last gasp survival instinct, he had managed to grab onto the ledge of the roof. Instantly thiis arms began to burn with the effort but, Stevie thought, better that then falling three stories to your death. Meanwhile, the gutter swang down crazily and hit the greenhouse in the garden below. Unfortunatly for Stevie the gutter was very old which meant it was very big and very metal. The greenhouse quickly went from upright to large pile of glass. The noise was to say the least, loud.
"Rich!" Stevie yellled. "Help me up so we can get the fuck out of here!"

Rich began carefully navigating his way towards him when he froze. Sirens. "Oh shit."
Richie glanced to where the ladder was and Stevie knew with a horrifying certainty he was going to abbandon him there. "No way you bastard. You get over here and help me up or I swear to god I'll fucking end you."

Richie back tracked to the ladder with Stevie's curses ringing in his ears. When he reached it, he turned and called back "Sorry mate! Nothing personal!" And with that he was gone.
So here he was, hanging by increasingly tiring arms with either death or the police awaiting him. He wasn't sure which he'd rather have. He looked around wildly. It was probably pointless and increased the strain on him arms but he had to look for a way out this. In the garden below was a large pile earth or fertilliser or something, it might just be enough to break his fall. The only problem was, it was a little far away. If he were to miss it he was in for alot of pain. He looked up at the sky and sighed.

Stevie let go.

[UKMD Elmo]

Mike glanced at his watch once as he pulled the police car part way onto a curb, grimacing slightly that it took him such a long time to get to the incident and had been briefly caught up in probably the only traffic jam in all of Greater London that morning. He stepped out of the vehicle, quickly mumbling into the radio that he had arrived. The house was just in front of him across the quiet street and there were no signs of life as far as he could see, not even other pedestrians walking down the street.

He had turned the siren and lights off a minute ago as he didn't want to alert any possible theives to the exact second he arrived, although if they were worth a damn they would ahve heard the steadily approaching sirens from a mile away and made off long ago. This made it all the more surprising when a young looking skin head covered in damp soil staggered out of a wooden swinging gate down the side of the property looking quite dazed, took one look at the police officer and started sprinting down the road. Mike didn't have time to laugh as he set off in pursuit.

"Stop, police!" He shouted as loud as he could, hoping as it did a lot of the time the sound of him shouting would cause the offender to stop running and beg for leniency. Unfortunately the short man wasn't for pausing and was a very good runner it seemed, slowly making distance from Mike as they both sprinted headlong down the street.

"Offender making off down Radley Road, white male early twenties, short hair, dark clothing" Mike shouted into his radio as he ran, wracking his memory for the name to put to the familiar face of the scumbag running from him. "Believe it to be Stevie-" but he was unable to finish the sentence as a small hatchback car pulled up in front of the runner from a side street where he slid over it with some grace while Mike ran headlong into it, faceplanting onto the hood.

"Ahhh fuck" He said, stepping back and ignoring the angry shouts of the driver, testing his jaw to make sure it wasn't as quite as dislocated at is felt then. Ahead of him 'Stevie' was steadily heading into the distance, and just before going out of sight down a side alley to the left rasing the middle finger of his right hand in the air without looking back.

"Son of a bitch" He mumbled, before calling into the radio the last known direction of the male and limping back to the car as he noticed he had banged his knee pretty bad too. Before he reached it he decided to at least do a cursory check of the house they were trying to get into, hearing over the radio other officers joining the hunt and from their reported locations being in a much better position to find the man than he was.

Mike was about to knock on the front door of the property before he noticed it was very slightly ajar, meaning the theif had either already managed to gain entry or that the idiot hadn't even noticed the front door was standing wide open. He swung the door open revealing a particularly gloomy looking house that appeared to have most of the curtains drawn inside it. There was a smell in the air too, it was faint but was one he had come across more than once and could hardly be mistaken for something else.

"Police. Anyone home?" He called, hardly expecting an answer as he checked the empty downstairs rooms and steadily made his way upstairs where the smell got stronger. He found the bodies of the middle aged couple in the front bedroom, both in bed and holding loosely onto eachother. The bed was surrounded by empty 'LemSip' wrappers, paracetamol and other painkiller bottles, as well as all the other sorts of things you bring in to make you feel better when you have a particularly bad case of the flu. They hadn't been there long, no more than a few days, but the heating had been turned on full which hardly made the smell any better.

"Bravo 2, requesting scenes of crime at previous noted address. Just discovered two diseased upstairs bedroom" Mike spoke into his radio, hardly listening to the follow up chatter as patrols and other agencies mobilised, albeit slower than usual, to attend and sort thing out. They looked as though they had died of natural causes, but something he couldn't shake was screaming in the back of his mind he couldn't quite understand.

He needed some fresh air...

[Sarah]

"Next!"

In an almost military display, everyone standing in line stepped forward simultaneously. The enticing smell of roasted coffee beans gave just a slight jolt of metaphorical ice water to the face, and Sarah straightened up, suddenly wary of someone cutting in line, as they frequently did.

The local Starbucks was very busy, as usual, but it wasn't helped by the fact that half of the employees seemed to be missing. The line was moving very slowly, and like many of the populace, she couldn't function without a cup of extra strength coffee in the morning.

Finally, she arrived at the head of the line, and ordered her usual, a Chocolate Latte. Elbowing her way out of the crowd, which was getting more unruly by the second, she grabbed a newspaper, and collapsed in the nearest chair, propping the newspaper up while steaming waves of chocolate energy flooded down her throat.

The stories on the front pages held the usual, save some information on a "New" sickness which the government claimed was just a new strain of the common cold. A vaccine was on it's way, they assured everyone. Then on to a story of a man who had exposed himself while drunk in front of Buckingham Palace.

As she read, she eventually noticed a man across the street, with his own steaming pile of coffee. He was staring, not even bothering to hide his interest. Normally she would be flattered, but something about him just wasn't right. As she stared back defiantly, he gathered up his belongings and faded into the crowd.

A shiver going up her spine, she wondered why she had given so much attention to a man who was obviously just another kook. Keeping this question fresh in her head, she closed up her paper, returned it to it's proper place, and started off at a slow pace for her job at the parlor, where a hectic day lay in waiting..

[UKMD Elmo]

RP NOTE: 2 days till the second chapter begins! All posters get a hurry on!

[Garfsan]

Geoff slapped his hands on his face and grunted as the sounds of his shrill buzzing alarm hit his ears. Scraping the small bed side cabinet he scrabbled for his phone and groggily checked the time.

"05:45"

He had only been asleep for fifteen minutes, after pulling an all nighter to finish the last fifty pages of his 20th issue of "Bulletslap" His recent underground Hit with Dark Horse comics.

"Fuuckkk" he slid off the pillow and sat up right, taking in his small bedroom as his eyes adjusted to the half light, along with an accompanying cabinet for the small amount of clothes he had, a door which led to the bathroom, a wardrobe and a stack of shelves which housed half of his career in it. He looked out the window and it was a dull twilight as the streets below bustled less than they normally did. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed heavily.

"Another boring day..." He stood up after kicking his covers off along with his friends cat Bob that seemed to prefer living here rather than his owners place, it scuttling off through to the kitchen.

He stood up, arching his back with a crescendo of pops and grunts while rubbing his eyes. It a long way up off the mattress that never actually got a bed because he couldn't afford it. Smiling briefly as he scratched his arse he slowly made his way to the bathroom while hitting the answering machine button to play back messages.

"You have 62 new messages" The mechanical voice whined

"WHAT?!" Geoff hit play and leaned on the cabinet as he waited to see why he was called so much.

Many were off his Dark Horse liaison, Michael Drummer, a fat overpaid guinea pig that got picked on but generally he got new talented artists to be recognized quicker by giving them a break in a shorts magazine. All of that was his idea he used his own money to work with. He was a dick, but his heart was to help you in your career and Geoff was thankful to him at least.

In fact fifty of them were from him, ranging from "Geoff, tomorrow's your day with that guy for that film...I forget his name sorry.." To "Jesus Christ! I've had fifteen artists call in sick saying that they can't make any deadlines and other production units have shut down because they're sick too! Please you hump 'O crap! Answer the goddamn phone!!"

Why have fifteen people called in sick and half the production units called in sick...Makes no sense

He shrugged and listened to the rest of the messages, a few were from a Thomas Sulley, that film director Drummer mentioned, and the rest were the usual. Mum, granddad, his ex, and Louis, the guy who owns the cat wondering where it was.

Geoff looked at the lazy ginger tabby that had wondered back in and slumped back on his bed and smiled, thinking he'd always wanted a pet but never could afford it.

After fifteen minutes of getting ready, showering and calling back the important messages sans Drummer he made his way into his work room.

It was a mess but an organised mess. His completed comic from last night adorned on the scratch built wooden and plastic marvel of an easel ten times better than store built ones he made. He forgot to turn off his lamp that helped in those dim lit nights.

He tidied up a bit, knowing he had a day off today and slowly made headway with the disaster that was his inks, pencils and paints for his work.

Another half hour past and it was getting towards seven am, and his stomach grumbled, almost echoing through the empty room. He smiled and tapped the signed statuette of a Tachikoma figure by Shirow himself as he made his way back to the kitchen.

He spent the next hour after making a brew and feeding the cat, watching through the dribble of morning television, but it worrying him just how many new and backup presenters were on the air, rather than the normal bunch of prim and proper socialites.

Sighing heavily it was turned nine, and he was still hungry. Returning to his room he pulled on some denim three quarters, a pair of socks, a blue tee along with a grey sleeveless hoodie and his messenger bag. Slipping on a pair of black Vans he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, almost forgetting his wallet and phone and headphones.

Slipping on the headphones and plugging them into his iPhone he put on some FFDP and started off on his morning run halfway across the city to where Thomas Sulley was to meet him.

Making his way through the city, it was eerie how quiet and sombre and the place wasn't. Normally he would have to weave in and out of traffic and pedestrians as he ran fairly fast with his favourite tunes blaring hopping over smaller railings and taking short cuts to keep his fitness up.

His job and his Hobby was sitting down, one drawing and the other taking stubs and occasionally going on the underground trains and selling tickets that way. But that had changed when security had ramped up after the bombings. That day had woken him up how he needs to be strong and since then trained his body to a fine edge.

He was almost at his destination and had made good time. The sun was out and it invigorated him as he slowed to a walk, stretching down and taking deep breaths to get his breathing back to normal.

It was almost ten am, a good time but he could do better.

"Hey man" It was Louis, a security guard he knew from the Underground. He was built like a monster and had the scars to prove it after being shot, stabbed and beaten many times in his career he however just pushed past it.

Geoff clapped his hand into his and hugged him with the other.

"Sup bro?" he asked smiling taking the bottle of water Louis offered him "Hows the job today?" he looked at Louis shaved head and bullish features that still retained his handsomeness despite the several broken noses he had gotten.

"Not alot." he replied, folding his arms "Been a quiet morning. Not alot of commuters, head office says it some sort of flu epidemic."

"In the summer? Flu?" Geoff sighed as he plonked down on a security railing and took another swig off the cool liquid. "That sucks, its a nice summer this year and this B.S happens..." he trailed off as he saw a young man in a suit exit the tube station, down and out coughing into a tissue as his eyes and nose ran.

"Aye" Louis sighed in reply "Was gonna be the USA visit this year."

"Ah damn..they stopped the trip because of this?" Geoff saw the sadness in his friends face

"Yeah" Geoff could see him tense up and his large knuckles turned white in the disgust he felt at the decision "Anyway...how's Bulletslap doing?"

"Done the 20th issue last night, got fifteen mins sleep derp.." he grunted in response

"HAHA!" Louis snorted "Your an idiot man, a damn stupid idiot!"

"A copy at your address as normal?" Geoff eyed up Louis out of the corner of his vision

"You know it!" Louis laughed in response, Geoff smiled and hugged him again

"Gotta bounce man. Cya around. And thanks for the drink!"

Geoff waved Louis goodbye and got his phone out, sliding off the chunky headphones and called Thomas Sulley.

Well I hope this guy has at least read the comic...Unlike the last moron...

Just as he was about to call him, low and behold he called him.

[Crack5800]

After a continuous walk through the half-empty streets of the inner district of London, Thomas had finally reached his destination. The lobby of a local coffee shot in Leicester Square. Upon seeing the shop, Thomas grinned and looked down at his watch, 9:50 a.m. He looked for any signs of his production crew outside of the shop. Looking, he saw two bicycles and a scooter.

"Jerry must already be here, no surprise" he mumbled to himself as he glanced at the scooter and neared the coffee shop door.

Upon entering the coffee shop, Thomas could see that his production crew was no where near what it should be. Looking over to Jerry, he could see that there was something unusual about his demeanor. He seemed exhausted and sickly. Walking over to Jerry, he could see that he hadn't had much sleep and wasn't really dressed or focused for the meeting today. Sitting down, Jerry sickly spoke,

"Did *COUGH*...ugh, you get any pictures?"

"Yeah, I managed to take about seven, a few of them of a bridge which turned out great and may work out later during shooting."

Thomas looked upon Jerry with worry. Jerry was not the type of person to be sick very often, and if he ever were sick, he would still haul his ass to production meetings and shooting sessions. In all of the years Thomas had known him, he could not remember one time that Jerry ever put himself in front of a project he and Thomas were working on. It worried Thomas, at this moment he realized all of the dedication Jerry put in, even when the two of them knew that the chances of them hitting it big were slim to none. But, he pushed on and always, no matter what, finished what he and Thomas had started. It was the closest thing to a 'friend' Thomas had. Speaking up as he finished coughing and blowing a portion of discharge from his nose Jerry looked at Thomas,

"So, do you think *cough* we'll have anyone else show up today? I mean there's not much we can get done if we don't have a crew is there?"

"I'm not sure what the hells going on today Jerry. Seems half of London has just taken a holiday, eh?" Thomas replied with a smirk on his face and nudging Jerry's left shoulder.

"Ahh, fuck a holiday. We *cough, COUGH* have work to do."

"Here, let me buy you a cup of coffee, or an espresso. How's that sound?" Thomas said rising to his feet and pulling out a few bucks from his jacket pocket.

Walking past Jerry, he said aloud,

"Double shot espresso, extra sugar... *COUGH*"

Looking about the coffee shop, he could see there were no signs of customers, or any life of that matter. The only thing besides Jerry consistent coughing that could be heard was the low rumblings of elevator type music. Approaching the counter, Thomas could see a young girl, probably no older than seventeen trying to smile and speak with courtesy but struggled in the fact that she too seemed to show signs of some unknown ailment.

"How *cough, cough* can I help you today sir?" the young woman said trying to maintain a smile.

Thomas, looking up at what the menu hanging above the counter spoke,

"I'll... have one double shot espresso with extra sugar, and I'll also have a black coffee."

"Anything else sir?"

"No, that will be all thank you" Thomas replied handing her the money to pay for the drinks.

Upon handing the money to the young girl, he looked down at his watch, 10:00 a.m.. It was then he realized he had failed to call the comic book artist that had come up with the story to the film he and Jerry were creating. Looking back at Jerry, Thomas said aloud,

"Hey Jerry, you hadn't by any chance had time to call that Geoff guy have you?"

Looking back at him surprised, Jerry spoke in a stressed tone,

"No you dumbfuck, *COUGH* you were supposed to do that."

Realizing that the man probably didn't want to wait any longer Thomas looked at Jerry and asked for his cell phone to call and speak to the man known as Geoff. Upon looking back at the counter, the young girl had placed the two beverages in front of Thomas and had given him back his correct change.

"Thank you" Thomas said grabbing the drinks and returning to the table.

Upon sitting down and handing Jerry's drink to him, Jerry in return, handed him his phone with an angry look about him.

"You really need to get your act together Tom. We start shooting in a matter of days and you've yet to call the man who's comic we're shooting into a movie?? Jesus Christ man come on" Jerry said frustrated taking a sip of his espresso and sighing contently.

Glaring at Jerry for a moment, Thomas shook his head and began dialing the man's phone number, hoping that he would pick up and wouldn't be angry at the delay. The phone began ringing and Thomas waited for a reply with baited breath.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end of the line spoke.

"Uhh, hello is this Geoff... Riley?" Thomas asked nervously at not being able to remember the man's last name.

"Yes, yes it is. I presume this is the gentleman making the movie about my comic, Mr. Sulley? Thomas Sulley?" Geoff's voice rang curiously and surprisingly upbeat.

"Yes, it is. I remember calling you earlier last night, but you never answered. I take it you must have been busy with the story of the comic or something along those lines. Anyways, I'm sitting here with my producer, Jerry Matthews at O' Doyle's Coffee Shop in Leicester Square. I know he and I had plans to meet you today to discuss details about the script and the different locales we had planned to shoot at. Is there anyway you may be able to meet us here this afternoon?" Thomas finished hoping the man would readily accept his offer and help get the production well underway from what it currently was.

"Uhh, yeah. Leicester Square you say? I'm not far from there at all. I can be there in oh, about ten minutes or so. Is that alright with you two?" Geoff's voice asked with interest.

"Yes Mr. Riley, that will definitely be alright. We will be here waiting for you and get the copy of the script ready for review and what not. We'll see you soon!" Thomas replied happily shaking his fist with excitement.

"It's not problem at all and please, call me Geoff. Mr. Riley is WAYYY to formal for my tastes *laughs*"

"Certainly Geoff, we'll see you soon."

Hanging up the phone, happiness began to fill Thomas as he now felt comfortable about meeting Geoff and discussing the film. He looked at Jerry with a wide smile upon his face and mocked,

"Who doesn't have good people skills huh? Who just got the artist/writer of the comic to come and meet us here eh?"

Looking at Thomas with an expression of anger and bewilderment, Jerry meekly replied,

"Shut the fuck up you idiot and get the script, *COUGH, COUGH* ready to present and let me finish my espresso in peace."



*Next post pending story update...*

[YuriTMND]

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Chris opened his eyes and awoke from his lengthy nap to the sound of someone pounding on his motel-room door. As always whenever he's awakened, Chris was in a grumpy mood. One of his eyes twitched as he looked at the door, cursing it under his breath with a mighty 'Curse-ye-may-ha-may-ha'. Like every other instance of him chanting those words, it never brought a curse upon those who were targeted. Fortunately for everybody else in the world, Christopher Wesley Channing was just a fat Scottish lump without might, whether it be physical or mental.

"'EY YOU FAT LUMP O' SHATE, EITHER PAY FOR THE ROOM OR FECK OFF!" shouted the motel manager through the door as he continued to pound his fist against the wood. "YOU BETTER NOT BE AROUND THE TIME I GET BACK; I'LL 'AVE THE LAW WITH ME!"

And with the threat of law, Chris sat straight up in bed and glared at the door. That manager has just been knocked down many pegs on Chris's respectometer! He had no time to inform the bastard though, as the manager had left and went about his business. Chris grimaced as he got out of bed, slipping on a colorful striped shirt that hugged his 'curves' and stepping into a pair of denim pants. He sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror, realizing how pathetic his figure was. His fit of self-loathing wouldn't last however as he went to gather his stuff; his PS3 of which was hooked up to the television and his plastic guitar controller.

"Ye din'nae kin who ye be messin' with, ye bastart!" Chris yelled back, knowing full well that the manager wasn't behind the door any more.

Having his stuff together now, Chris left the room and walked around in the parking lot until he found his car. The word 'faggot' was keyed into the driver's door and someone had drew a penis on the windshield. The man ought to remind himself to find a safer place to park, hopefully somewhere that chavs dare not tread! But knowing Chris, he was too lazy to look around for a suitable parking complex.

"Fer the lest toime, a'm nae an arse-bandit!" shouted Chris at the world, shaking his fist at passerby's who couldn't help but giggle at the fat Scotsman. He took out his car key and popped open the trunk, setting his PS3 and other stuff in the back except for the guitar controller, which he slung over his back in an attempt to look all bad-ass. Slamming the trunk shut, Chris dug through his pockets in search of the room key. Once he had his hands on the key, he whipped it at the motel for an 'amazing' two meters.

Stomach rumbling, the man decided to go and get some breakfast. He walked across the street to the nearest McDonald's, dodging what little traffic there was. The sun shone brightly, causing Chris to shield his eyes from the light as he made his way to the entrance. Chris pulled the door open and stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the change in light. Making his way to the front of the restaurant, the Scotsman would slam his fist down on the counter and bark his demands.

"A' would fansah' some foor MacGreedles, laddie!" ordered Chris, his eyes looking up at the menu suspended above the kitchen and saw that it had no breakfast items on it. Even then, he still waited for those McGriddles until the cashier said, "I'm sorry sir, we don't serve breakfast past eleven," which evoked the response of, "Ye be sheetin' me? What time be it?"

"It's five, sir; would you like something off the lunch menu?" answered the cashier. Chris was fuming by now. Angrily, Chris shouted at the cashier, "A' DIN'NAE WOONT ANY O' THAT; A' WANT ME MACGREEDLES!" The cashier rose his voice and spoke back, "Sir, do I need to get the manager?" Chris blinked stupidly at the uniformed man, before beginning to leave whilst shouting, "WELL FOKE YE AN' THE HARSE YOU RID IN OON!"

Chris was quite angry today, as can be seen from him stomping his way back to his vehicle. Taking out his key and unlocking the driver's door, Chris stuffed his fat self in and adjusted the seat and mirrors to his liking. The man would jam his key into the ignition before pulling out of the parking lot and driving away, taking advantage of the light traffic to go wherever he thought he could get some breakfast.

[SlainPwner666]

*HONK*

"GET OUTTA THE ROAD, YE BRAIN ADDLED TWIT!"

A man stood in the middle of the road, holding up a large sign that read "GOVERNMENT COVERUP. IT'S NOT THE FLU. THE END IS NIGH" in an angry red paint. He was holding up traffic, running up to cars and gesturing the sign at the drivers, who promptly returned their own obscene gestures.

Angry drivers began driving around him, a few people clipping him in their haste. Marcus sped up, then had to slam on his brakes as the man jumped in front of him. He rolled down the window, stuck his head out, and swore at the man.

"I'm gonna come beat yer stupid ass if you don't get out of the fooking road!"

The man faltered, then stepped to one side and let his car pass. He drove by, not even bothering to glare at the man, who waited until his car had passed before jumping back into traffic and waving his sign.

Without further incident, he arrived at the seed manufacturer, a local brand known for it's quality and cheap price.

Dropping off the order on the main desk, he waited patiently until the manager stepped out of his office. He looked old, and sounded about as such. In one hand, he held a cup of coffee, in the other, a box of tissues. He offered neither hand for a handshake, and Marcus didn't feel like one anyway.

The man sniffled a few times, then said quietly "You're with Bruce, aren't you?". Marcus nodded and plucked the order off the desk, holding it up so he could read it.

"Marvelous. Just drop that in the inbox, we'll get to it just as soon as we get some employees in. Those damned summer colds are killers, I tell you. We're missing just about everyone, it's a marvel we're still open for business. Well, enough babbling, I'd best get back to work. Pleasure meeting you, chap. Feel free to see us sometime again."

Throughout the man's rambling, Marcus remained silent, keeping his eyes on the man's face, noting it's pale color and sickly texture. As the man ceased talking, he raised his eyes to match the man's, hoping he didn't take much notice of his examination. Waving goodbye, he dropped the letter in the inbox and strolled out, taking in with distaste the setting sun.

"Oh well" He said to himself "Time to test London's famous hospitality."

Whistling to himself, he got back in his car and drove off, seeking the nearest hotel with cool sheets, good food, and a well stocked bar....

[Bloodshed269]

"JOSH! IF YOU DON'T GET OUT OF THAT BED RIGHT NOW, YOU WON'T HAVE ONE!"

"Mrrghfrhg", Josh said while rubbing his eyes. He looked at the clock, which informed him that it was 2 p.m. Shaking off the general feeling of laziness that plagued him nowadays, he headed into his bathroom. He turned on his shower, and while he waited for the hot water to kick in, he looked himself over in the mirror. He looked like hell, even though he was in perfect health. He could thank his mom for that, for she did everything in her power from keeping Josh from getting sick. Just last night, she stopped Josh from going out with friends, because one of them had an occasional cough. Though he knew that she was just being overprotective, Josh listened to her, and stayed in and watched some telly. As Josh stared into the mirror, his reflection seemed to fade away. After the mirror fogged up completely, he got into the shower.

As he exited the bathroom, Josh felt like a new person. The shower had refreshed his body and mind, and he was ready to begin the day, or what was left of it. He looked at his clock, 3:07 p.m. "Damn, I feel like a bum", Josh said to himself as he put on some shorts and a t-shirt.

Josh made his way downstairs, towards the kitchen. He entered to find his mother chopping up some vegetable. He waited for her to put the knife down, then he sneaked up behind her and put both hands firmly on her shoulders.

"AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!", she yelled as she spun around and jumped into the air, at the same time.

"Joshua, what have I told you about doing that to me? You could have given me a heart attack! Glad to see you finally came down from your cave to join the land of the living", Mom said sarcastically.

Josh held out his arms in front of him, reaching towards his mother. "BBBBRRRAAAAIIINNNNNSSSSSS", he muttered while shuffling towards her.

"Very funny', she said, "now have you finished packing yet?"

"Aww, fu...", Josh caught himself, "dge... No, I haven't even started yet."

"What! We leave tomorrow and you haven't even started packing yet???"

"I'll go do it now", Josh said as he exited the kitchen. As he headed back to his room to pack, Josh wondered if he should start taking more initiative in his life. Nah, he thought to himself as he walked into his room and started packing for the trip.

[Bill_the_nonchalant]

Berry walked out of the elevator, looking around the lobby. He grabbed his headphones, sitting on his shoulders, and put them on. He stopped at the front doors to reach into his pocket and retrieve his music player from his pocket. He turned it on and navigated through the menus, trafficking through the well-known sets of words. He found himself hovering over the FM radio, confident he was in the right spot. He pushed himself into the radio, pushing open the doors and presenting himself to the outside world.

Without looking around, Berry began walking down the street. He moved fast, he was behind by at least 10 minutes. This would have been nothing to stress over if it wasn’t for Tyson. Tyson was normally a well-mannered man. However, yesterday, almost a quarter of the people we worked with were out sick. Berry thought back to Alex, he was sick. If Alex was sick with the same thing that his co-workers had, there was a possibility that they would be sick again today, as well as a few additions. Due to the sickness, Berry was charged with three packages yesterday. In all, Berry made a good pay, receiving £168. Berry wanted to get to work at a good time, more time was more money. And Berry needed money.

Another thing that fed Berry’s prediction of spread illness within his co-workers was the newscast he was listening to. After the five minute weather forecast, which told of sunny skies and very few clouds, was a story of epidemic. A small strand of a mutated cold was found in a man who wandered into a hospital in Scotland. The woman speaking simply stated that the new strand was nothing to worry of and that a vaccine was well on its way. Again, Berry thought of Alex, maybe he’s hit with this new cold.

Berry’s attention was caught by blaring sirens of an ambulance; he turned just in time to see it turn around the corner a few blocks down from him, this distance being kept only for a few seconds. It moved faster than any ambulance he had seen in his life. It uncased Berry some, but there were many possible explanations to the speed of it. He kept his eyes on it until it disappeared around a corner many blocks down.

A few moments passed before another pair of sirens caught his attention, this time; a police officer had passed, headed for the highway; which, according to the traffic report, was backed up this morning. Why’s he goin’ that way? The guys gonna be gone before he even gets there. He thought. That must have been where everyone was this morning, it had just come to his attention that the normal commute was thin today, yesterday it was barely even noticeable how many people didn’t get up for their day. Today, however, was different.

A few minutes passed before Berry arrived at the subway station. Berry walked hastily down the stairs, descending under the city. The subways schedule made him wonder why he bothered to hurry up in the first place. If he walked all the way to the station to wait for a fixed schedule, why was he so worried?

Berry found some comfort as well as unease at how thin the populace in the station was that day. Not many people to push through, he could simply buy his ticket and get on the train, which was an almost unbearable five minutes. On a normal day, five minutes would have been a breeze, today, however, was seemingly different.

He stepped onto the 8:15 train and took his seat, studying his surroundings to find that not many people had gotten on this morning. Nobody noticeable save the gorgeous woman near the front of the car. She was young, maybe early twenties. Berry grinned momentarily as he moved his attention to his MP3 player, adjusting the setting to play music from the device. Underground tunnels didn’t seem to like radio waves.

So, Berry sat and waited for the subway to move him onto the rest of his day.

[Garfsan]

"Certainly Geoff, we'll see you soon."

Geoff hung up, sighed and wondered just how bad the script would be compared to the last guy who tried to do his long standing and widely loved first ever published comic about zombies taking over the earth and one man's desperate survival to find survivors. He had called it "Dead but still standing" To represent the fact that the main protagonist was in fact dead, but still very much human but wasn't rotting and didn't have a fetish for brains.

This however was different, It was about a guy who got caught in a storm that was to be called "Bulletstorm" that made them almost Invulnerable and masterfully proficient with firearms and similarly immune to their effects. Thus leads to stupid insane fire-fights and mucho spent brass and environmental damage. In fact one of his favourite scenes so far was when they went into the London Natural History Museum and left it a smouldering mess of fine art and dinosaur bones.

Geoff laughed loudly and slipped his headphones back on, flipping to some Killswitch Engage this time and headed to Leicester square, a small ten minutes away.

Actually, I wonder if this guy can deliver, as I hope to god he casts someone like the main character..not a muscular fathead as he's really just a normal average blue collar guy who suddenly gets super powers and the thrill of saving the day and also being pardoned for the splash damage to the populace and the environment.

He folded his arms as he walked, a frown on his face taking in the almost dead streets, considering it was after ten am he was surprised to see that there wasn't a lot of people around, getting breakfast opening up shop and taking their dogs for a walk was the norm. What did worry him was a man in a white Biohazard suit all covered up walking out of a crime scene. His old buddy O'Malley. His shop was burnt to the ground, and he could see the charred remains of him splayed out on the street covered up.

"Jesus.." he paused for a second and closed his eyes, muttering a small goodbye to his best friend and brother for most of his life.

Sighing he carried on, now angry at fact he was probably going to see a moron who hadn't even seen the comic and was a big waste of time, and he felt his choler rise at the prospect of seeing some fat American kid, who spoke in a stupid accent who didn't give a damn about the piece he had worked his balls off for.

He slammed his fist into a large bin down an alley he walked through to get to the meeting point and tried to calm down.

He was jumping to conclusions, and his passion often led him to be that extra bit defensive about his work, which almost led to arrest at one point if it wasn't for his quick thinking and people skills.

"Okay.." he paused and exhaled deeply, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath and walked onwards. He was just the other side of this alley and in the open was a set of tables near a cafe that did the most bitchin' full English Breakfast he'd ever had.

The loud and almost cavernous rumble from his stomach caused the young man at the tables and his sickly looking cohort to look up. He paused for a second and took him in.

He was reading through what was Geoff thought the script, a large document and he had many folders with what looked like pages from his comic, and sketches of costume designs and props and sets. Also there was a nice expensive looking camera on the table with some shots on the LCD screen.

He stepped forward, taking in the scrawny short guy (compared to Geoff's 6'10" he was just maybe 5'10" possibly 11) with short brown hair and lazy eyes with a dishevelled look about him and the makings of a fine beard himself.

He's like ten years younger than me at least...jeez

His eyes fell on his cohort, who looked deathly pale and was nursing a large mug of black coffee, his eyes almost glued shut and his voice small and timid compared to Sulley's.

He stopped the music from his iPhone and slid the bulky headphones off his skull. He hesitated when looking at his sickly friend but then realised if this kids for real, he could make enough recognition for his comic sales and maybe get into the big leagues and also help this young upstart.

"Morning kids." He chuckled as they both glanced his way, Thomas standing to meet him as he walked up to the table, which housed three seats and two large black coffee's.

"I'm guessing you must be Mr Thomas Sulley" he said slowly making sure he could catch his sarcasm from earlier "How the hell are you this fine Wednesday? Goood..Food you say? Yeah I'm starving." He shook the kids hand tightly, smiling genuinely for the first time in ages.

"Let me pay Mr Riley..I mean Geoff" the youth seemed intimidated by his size, but also his eyes were alight with joy that he finally got to meet him like the other dozens of his fans he had met at conventions. He had talked to Sulley over the phone a number of times, where he had passionately talked about his work and even linked some of his work on YouTube. It was good to finally meet the man. His short films were excellent.

"So can we sit down with a coffee and discuss the details for Bulletslap then Mr..er..Geoff?" he stood to go towards the inside of the café as he joined him. Oh and by the way that's my producer," he pointed to the sickly man who waved back casually "He's a little under the weather at the moment I'm afraid."

"S'ok" Geoff muttered in reply, squinting at the change in light inside the small homely café. "Usual please Claire!" he bellowed as the usual punters all turned and smiled at the arrival of him, Geoff noticing that Sulley had noticed that they all knew him.

"And apparently this wee lad's paying."

[UKMD Elmo]

RP Note: I know a lot of people have had a hard time trying to post, so I'm giving you all till wednesday to post now (extended two days from Monday).

DO NOT DISRESPECT MY LENIENCY! :D

[Crack5800]

"And apparently, this wee lad's paying" rang in Thomas's ears like a church morning bell on a day of worship.

He knew he didn't have the money to pay for a full meal for Geoff, but he really didn't want to anger or displease the man in any way. Pulling out his wallet, Thomas let out a small sigh of frustration as he saw his funds dwindle right before his eyes. His mother would probably send him more money later on in the month, but what really shook Thomas was the fact that he had yet to earn any significant amount of income over the past six months. He had yet to really hit it big with any project thus far and Geoff's "Bulletstorm" was the first biggest project he had undertaken since graduating film school. He had to do whatever was necessary in order to get on the man's good side and have his full and complete cooperation to make this film a success. Even if it meant buying the man a meal he himself couldn't afford.

Looking back and smiling as he handed Claire, the young woman he had purchased the coffee from earlier the money for the meal. He then asked Geoff,

"I take it your quite hungry considering what you ordered."

Looking at him curiously Geoff replied,

"Are you able to take care of it lad? I mean, it's not a big..."

"No no! It's quite alright. Course, I can't say I'm surprised. I know what it's like to be in a rush and unable to properly eat something that is nourishing. Hell, all I had today was a bloody bagel." Thomas said as Claire came to the table, setting Geoff's breakfast before him.

"Hell, I don't see how he can take care of it. He can barely afford himself a bar of soap!" Jerry said between coughs.

Glaring at Jerry to get a silent point across Thomas asked,

"Can you call Mikey to make sure he's spoken with our lead? Do something besides making me look like an ass?"

Jerry shook his head and pulled his phone from his pocket and began walking out of the cafe dialing numbers as he went. The plate consisted of eggs over easy, bacon, and a croissant with cheese peppered on it. Thomas looked at the plate with a bit of envy. However, before his mind could continue to train on the thought of a delicious breakfast, he began speaking, looking at Geoff as he began eating his breakfast.

"So I've come up with a few ideas for the script. I wanted to go over them with you."

Geoff looked up from his plate of food with a blank stare as if awaiting to hear his proposal. Thomas swallowed nervously, and began speaking.

"So, with regarding the character's motives once he gains his powers I decided to have him explore different possibilities. I even have a few scenes where he causes some mayhem..."

At this, Geoff looked up from his plate and met his eyes with Thomas's. He knew that didn't strike well with him.

"I see what your trying to do Mr. Sulley. Your trying to add another dynamic to him. Maybe throw in a streak of 'evilness' and them have him realize the error of his ways and then redeem himself by way of fighting his arch nemesis. WHO I might add doesn't even come into play until the 11th. issue."

Thomas continued to stare, nervous as he was, but still staring. Geoff was now becoming unnerved. It seemed Geoff wasn't a fully stable man, and was very apprehensive when it came to his comic, story, and characters. Rearranging his notes and pulling out a few pages of the script, he began speaking once more.

"I understand your concern Geoff, I really do. I would be the same way if some, director wanted to change the dynamic of your story. I've read some of the comics, not all of them. Money has been tight as of late and I've been unable to purchase the last 7 or so issues. I have however interviewed people who have read the comic and have researched the back stories of the characters and the dynamic of the story. Rest assured..."

Leaning forward in his seat and throwing his napkin down on his plate with force, Geoff began raising his voice,

"Wait, your fucking kidding right? You've yet to read half of the comic? Jesus Christ, and YOUR wanting to make my comic a movie?! *SLAMS FIST ON TABLE*"

Thomas sat back and glanced down at his watch, 10:35 a.m. Running his hand through his hair, he sighed and replied,

"Look Geoff, I'll be blunt here. The story you've written is solid as hell, I'll say that. But I have to say that there isn't enough to make an entire film just based on what you have. The differences with film and books is that what you can say, fit into a novel, comic or book MUST vary in a one and a half hour, to two hour film. In doing so, you have to take some liberties to try and interject a good story while conveying the original story and heart of the characters from the pages to the screen. Some liberties MUST be taken Geoff, I cannot stress that fact enough."

He sat back in his seat and folded his arms. Geoff wasn't giving him a look of satisfaction or happiness. It was more of a cold, glare that seemed to pierce right through him. Thomas was worried the man would stand up, tell him to fuck off and strip him of the right to use the characters and the story of the film. At which point, Thomas would be in a dire situation with no project and the company which is backing up the project more than likely dropping him from their label. Alot, was riding on Geoff's next move.

Geoff pushed his plate forward and leaned on the tale putting his fists underneath his chin in a thinking manner. He looked at Thomas long and hard. Thomas couldn't quite understand what Geoff may have been thinking and he wasn't sure what he would do next. He could see the man was deeply concerned the integrity of his story be kept and saw that he was deeply attached to his work. Thomas could relate to him. Finally, Geoff spoke,

"Fair enough. I'll work with you on this. However, I think I may have some better suggestions to the story if you don't mind. I'm sure you have good ideas as well son, but you have to understand."

Nodding in agreement, Thomas spoke,

"I completely understand Geoff I do and I apologize for becoming unruly a few moments ago."

"No, no, I'm the one who should be apologizing to you. Your the director, I'm more or less just and advisor."

"Without your help though, we wouldn't be able to nail the characters and the story properly. Your opinions and what you have to say about the script are very important to me Geoff."

Seeming to have an equal understanding of one another the two men nodded in agreement and began discussing the script and the story Geoff had written, and the movie Thomas was wanting to create. The two of them began collaborating with one another, discussing various issues of the story, characters and their motives as well as locations. Time passed and even the young cashier Claire seemed to take notice looking over at the two and asking if they were both needing anything throughout the creative discussion.

After some time, Jerry finally made his way back inside the cafe and he looked as if he was bearing bad news. Thomas knew that look well.

"What is it Jerry? What did the casters say?" Thomas asked nervously popping his knuckles.

"Well *COUGH, COUGH, COUGH* they are having problems with the actors. They *COUGH* seem to be coming down with this same damn *COUGH* flu everyone else in London is getting."

Upon hearing his, Thomas shook his head in utter dismay and sighed heavily.

"You've got to be fucking with me right? We start shooting in less than three days and we're down half a cast!?" he said angrily glancing back at Geoff who also showed a look of worry.

"Say, are you alright?" Geoff asked Jerry with a look of concern.

"Yeah, fucking *COUGH, COUGH* cold. I've had it for almost a week now."

"Hmm... everyone appears to be feeling the same way these days. Such a strange epidemic for this time of the year. Look you two, I can see your stressed. Fuck, we all are. How's about we all go down to Queen Mary's and grab a couple of swigs eh?" Geoff said standing to his feet and looking at his watch.

Looking down at his watch, Thomas checked the time. 2:45 p.m. He knew that a trip to the pub wasn't the smartest thing now. But he also knew that he had to do something or else he may lose the interest of Geoff. Sighing, he looked at both of them and said,

"Fine, we'll go, but there is still more I want to discuss with you Geoff, if that's alright."

"Of course, there's more I want to talk about as well. "Bulletstorm" is very important and I've put alot of hard work into it. But a few drinks while talking about it won't hurt either. Besides, it will release some of this bloody tension we've had for the past few hours" Geoff said as he began heading for the door with Jerry behind him.

He gathered all of his belonging and placed them in his bag and followed the two out of the door to Queen Mary's for a few calming drinks. He knew he had to get more work done, but he also knew that he needed to relax in order to work to his full potential. Besides, he needed a good drink.

*Next post pending story update...*

[Jesus123]

Well, can you wait till tomorrow, it's kinda hard to write RP with school starting and the ridiculous amount of homework/chores around my home on top of sports.

[Bill_the_nonchalant]

Berry arrived in the financial district, his next stop being his job. His workplace was a simple ten minute walk from the metro entrance. He was making good time. Yet, he still walked at a fast pace, perhaps he wanted to get off the street, the eerie feel of the stumpy population made him feel uneasy, perhaps that’s what it was when the ambulance passed; the sudden sound of urgency in a quiet morning. He had had mornings where the streets seemed slow, but they normally got their asses out of bed before 8:00 A.M.

He turned hard into he door, grasping the door handle with a shaky hand. He moved down the hallway, taking relief that the independent company was as quiet as any day. That was until Tyson barrelled around the corner at the end of the hall.

“Berry.” He said, walking towards him with the presence of authority. “We’ve gotten people calling in sick today. It’s just you, Thomas, Cid, Carlos and Patrick.” He placed his hand on Berry’s back, easily pushing him into hast. “I’ve already got Cid out on a run. He got here early. I’ve got a run for you as well.”

“Is everyone else out?”

Tyson looked at him for a moment, stopping at the door. He pointed into a small garage that the staff found as a good lounge while they waited for their runs. The cement room was decorated only by a two couched and a chair. A single radio sat in the middle, “No, they don’t look to well and I can’t much trust them with a long ride. I’m waiting for a close one to send one of them out. You and Cid will get the long ones; you may not even see Cid today.” He followed Berry into the room, instantly banking off towards a small shed within the garage. He opened it and produced Berry’s bike, he walked it over to him.

“Wait here.” He said, handing the bike to Berry. “I’ll get your package.”

Berry stood for a moment in confusion. He had just arrived and already the big man was up his ass about getting him out on the road. On a normal day, it would have taken at least two hours before He heard anything of a package for him. He looked over to his friends. They all sat on the couch, each one of them looked pale. He greeted them with a wave. Only Thomas and Carlos returned the gesture. The others seemed to be sleeping.


“Not feeling well today, are we?” He asked mockingly. His scarcely insightful joke was recognized with a chuckle from Thomas.

“Not bad enough to miss work.”

Berry studied them for a few seconds, a small grin hiding his concern. Each one of them hosted pale skin; those sleeping seemed to host more noticeable traits of black eyes. Each one of them looked like shit, even under the grins that both Thomas and Carlos hosted.

“Have either of you guys seen Cid today?” Berry asked, twisting the handle bars of his bike back and forth.

Carlos looked up at him for only a moment before returning to his head slanted pose. “Nope. He got in the here way before any of us.”

“I see.” He momentarily glanced at the doorway, hoping that the boss would come back in with his package so he could get out on the job. He found it odd, a moment ago he wanted to get off the street. Now, however, he wanted to get out of the garage and back onto the street. Dammit was he restless today. “You know, my roommate was sick today also. Funny thing is he looked-

“Alright Berry.” His boss said, hastily. A small package wrapped in the usual rushed crap job. “You’ve got this one going to 289 Kennington Lane, over in Lambeth.” He passed the package over to Berry, who put it snuggly inside his bag. “I’ll need you back in two hours, so be quick.” He ordered.

“Yes, sir.” Berry said, strapping his helmet on. He pushed off, riding out onto the not-so-busy streets of London.

*10 hours later*
Berry walked slowly off of the subway train, motivated by the promise of food in his apartment; with rush hour passed by two hours past, the streets where even less crowded; this unease Berry enough to push himself harder than he did in the morning. A seemingly harsh task considering he took four runs today, each one running at a minimum of half an hour both ways. He felt like crap. However the pay was worth the hard day, earning £230. Not a bad commission in his book.

Ten minutes passed before his apartment came into sight, he pushed open the door and made his way to the kitchen instantly, making him some food before he sat down in front of the television, watching movies until he passed out in his chair.

[Garfsan]

The Queen Mary was a small local pub that served the usual stuff but every once in a while it would serve a bollocks busting pint of some local or far away ale that put hair on your chest which probably explained Geoff's.

He showed Thomas and his Ghoul like friend Jerry to the booth where he usually sits and went up to the bar, some new spotty kid barely eighteen asked:

"What can I get you" in a meek whimpering tone. "We haven't got any specials on tonight, as the Landlady is off sick today, she's due any time soon y'know"

"Yeah" Geoff replied as he went around the other side and poured three Strongbow, the little kid whimpering and trying to get some words out but stopped and just whined pathetically.

"She's me sister"

The kid stood there slack jawed as Geoff walked off, three pints in his huge hands and grabbed some pork scratchings and some crisps. Salt and Vinegar of course.

"So" he plonked down next to the pair and sighed, "Drink up lads" he took a large swig of his glass as Thomas sipped his and Jerry just groaned and grabbed the crisps he had thrown in his lap.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, On the house. I Know the landlady" he grinned as he took another large swig of his drink and belched loudly.

"Now" he paused, reaching into his bag. "At some point last night while I was finishing issue twenty, I must have decided to put some of the comics in me bag so if you missed em you could read them." He pulled out the large thick wad of his life's work and passed it to Thomas.

"Can I call you Tom? Thomas is too formal.." He nodded taking another swig of his drink and smiled "These the ones I haven't read..Will I be able to borrow them?"

"Nah" Geoff belched, "Keep em, use em and help me make this film great. But I don't want the film to be based off Issue twenty though.."

"How come?" He asked peering over his glass as he drank, enjoying the beverage, while Jerry was nursing his and still making his way through the salty snacks.

"Well you'll see when you read up to that point.. anyway" He trailed off for a second "Anyway lets talk business. Who have you got lined up as the main character Hideo?"

"Japanese local, rising star at his local college. He's not as trim as the main character but he's the right height but is willing to lose the weight to stay faithful to the role. He says he's a big fan." He paused to pop open a packet of nuts "He has the limited edition of the first issue that's completely uncut."

"Yeah I had fun writing that one, It would never have gone to prints if I haven't have edited what I did though...And only ever ten of those and I know some freak fat kid who owns eight of them" Geoff's face screwed up when he remembered him at ComicCon, a fat sweaty nerd who basically him and his other friends were the reason he still got a job in comics.

"Anyway" Thomas interrupted politely, tapping the script and the cast list on the table, "Here's the script and the casting lists with pictures of them."

"Al-right then, let's have a butchers."

****

Geoff spent the rest of the day, talking, discussing and making changes to the script and the cast making sure his Ideas were at least taken on board. Thomas came across as a guy who really cared about the comic, and the film being faithful to it, which was good to Geoff, and also the industry was going to look up if more upstarts like Sulley were coming out of it. Even the sickly Jerry threw in his five pence worth and made some criticisms, were were well received.

"Well its nine pm." Thomas stood as he stretched, draining the last of his pint as he gathered his belongings and shook Geoff's hand again. "Today was really helpful, I'm gonna go home and type up the new script and make calls and get this ball rolling!" he smiled as Geoff laughed and slapped him on the back walking them out.

"I'll call you tomorrow, with a time for you to come pick up the new script. It was nice talking with you Geoff."

"You got some reading to do too boyo!" he shouted as he walked off into a taxi with Jerry who had gotten worse since he had first seen him.

He made his way back inside, by now the kid behind the bar just passed him another pint as he cleaned up the mess he made in the booth as the pubs St Bernard Tank came bounding down the stairs and almost knocked Geoff off his feet.

"Heya boy!" he scratched behind the behemoth dogs ears and smiled as he slobbered all over him, "How you doing?" he barked loudly and wagged his tail furiously as he then went outside to relieve himself in the park across the road.

"Clever boy." he sighed as he sat down back in the booth with a sad look on his face. Wondering if this deal will actually work OK, and if half the damn city suddenly gets better overnight his long walks home will be ruined through the still summer nights they had been getting.

He drained the pint he had in his hand and grabbed his bag, patting Tank and waving goodbye to the regulars and the new Bar boy which was just finishing his shift as Jennifer started hers he grimaced as his aching bones felt rain in the air.

Sure enough halfway down the road, it started to rain, and Geoff's mind just wandered as he walked along the emptying streets towards home, with some pubs closing and some others with small queues to get inside with scantily dressed youths, some older dirty forties followed by a bunch of skinheads walking as if they owned half of London.

He pulled his hood over his head, slipping his headphones on and put some classics he always listened to when he was down, soothing John Legend's mellow tunes lightened his mood some as the light faded and the street lamps came on, the rain showing up through it as he stomped through some puddles.

A number of passer bys gave him a friendly nod, he made the same journey every Wednesday to see his sister who today hadn't come down and lectured him to get a real job.

His phone buzzed as he walked along, stopping under the street-lights he answered the call.

"Hello?" he answered gruffly, suddenly remember from earlier that his friend had died "Whats up?"

He heard the familiar tone of his Mother on the other side, her tone slightly mellow too like himself.

"Whats the news son?" she paused hiccuping "How did the meeting go?"

"I Just came from there," he scratched his chin "It was good, He's not a complete idiot, but I have my doubts as always. Whats with this damn flu bug that's hit the nation anyway?"

"I don't know sweetie" she replied, the sound of her sipping more wine audible in the background "Your father seems to think its from abroad. But being fair no one in Manchester has got it, I don't think its hit here yet." she sighed deeply

"Yeah Lets hope it doesn't eh?" Geoff replied sadly looking up at the rain come down heavier as the heavens darkened, the piercing howling wind sweeping through the streets as a Police Van went screaming past, sirens blaring, the rain puddles disturbed as the van cut through them, sending nearby pedestrians running for cover, shaking fists angrily at the driver.

"Well mum, I gotta go." Geoff said finally

"OK sweetie," she paused to yawn "I'll talk to you soon Geoff"

"Al-right Mum, I love you"

"I love you too son!" Geoff hung up the line, switching back to the FFDP he was listening to this morning he walked on, the angry beat from the song matching his mood.

"Hope tomorrow's gonna be a better fucking day than today..."

[Bloodshed269]

Josh looked around his room, wondering what to start packing first. He walked over to his closet and starting pulling out various pieces of clothing. Though his closet was full of shirts and pairs of shorts, he only wore a handful of them regularly. He grabbed a few shirts, some pairs of shorts, and 2 pairs of jeans. After he packed the necessities in his luggage bag, he started to look for things that would help him pass the time on the plane, and at his Aunt's house in America. He walked across the room and grabbed his laptop. He checked the battery, full. He slip it into his backpack, along with his iPod Touch. Then he looked at a pile of magazines near the corner of his room. He had promised his cousin Evan that he would bring his copies of Bulletstorm for him to read. He had the limited uncut edition of each one, with the 20th already in reserve for when it came out. As he was packing the comics away into his backpack, his mother entered the room.

"Making progress?", she asked.

"Yeah". Josh replied "Just a few more things and I should be all packed and ready."

"Ok hun"

After she left, Josh focused back on packing. What else should I bring, he thought to himself. He walked over to his computer desk, grabbed his cellphone, and slipped it into his pocket.

"Well, I guess that's all of it.", Josh said aloud while leaving his room.

As he was walking down the stairs, a thought struck him.

"OH!", he almost yelled as he bounded back up the stairs, towards his room.

He jogged over to his desk, rifled through the drawer, and then found what he was looking for. It was a plastic, green coin with a four leaf clover on it. He always carried it on him for good luck.

"That plane would have crashed if I had forgot...."

[UKMD Elmo]

Chapter 2 - Panic

Mike threw down hisback, peeld off his jacket and collapsed back into his sofa and didn't move for a few minutes, resting his head back and massaging his temples. The supposed 8 hour shift had run into a whole 16 hours, finally getting relieved at 11pm by a response officer that looked as exhausted as he did. The day had been a non stop succession of crime scenes where people had died in their own homes by seeming natural causes surrounded by creature comforts and flu medication. He had attended four of them with 8 bodies in total, and he could recall at least another dozen being called over the radio as the division staff were stretched to almost breaking point trying to cover all the different scenes.

Without looking he reached for the usual resting place of the tv remote and turned it on, flicking down till it got to Sky News. Sure enough there was a breaking news story about a record number of flu deaths at such an early time in the year, but from what the newscasters were saying it seemed they didn't yet know that the dead were in much higher numbers, from all different ages. The image of the three year old curled up dead in her tiny bed flashed through his mind briefly from earlier in the day. He shook his head groggily and wandered to the cabinet in the next room, grabbing a small glass and a fresh bottle of Jack Daniels and sitting back down to take a drink.

He woke up suddenly with the sound of his mobile phone ringing from inside his pants pocket. The glass lay unused and next to him but the bottle was half empty, some of its contents spilled on the sofa but most of the whisky swilling around inside him as he had absent mindedly sipped at it till he passed out. The phone range again so he hurredly put down the bottle and fished it out, groaning as he recognised a serious headcahe brewing as he put it to his ear.

"Hello?" He grumbled

"It's Harris. Sorry to do this to you but we need all hands on deck today, things are starting to kick off on the street"

"How come sarge? Anything to do with yesterday?" Mike said

"Check the news. Someone leaked just how bad things were. Get here as soon as you can" Sgt Harris said before hanging up, accompanied by a lot of coughing that were probably being supressed during the phone call. The old man sounded even worse than yesterday, but if he knew anything about the guy he would die at his desk rather than have a sick day off.

Mike flicked the tv on from standby, trying and failing to remember when he had turned it off last night. It flicked straight to Sky News again and things had taken a turn for the worse, seemingly overnight. He watched for a few minutes as a succession of news reports of a rising death toll from the flu epidemic spread across Europe with reports of a similar virus in every single country bar a lucky few around the world. It was occasionaly mentioned about civil disturbancies, and tht was all Mike needed to hear to know that things were getting real bad really really quickly.

He stood up, had a quick wash in the kitchen basin, popped down two painkillers followed by a breakfast bar, grabbed his bag and jacket and headed out of the door. He tried not to notice how bad he smelled and hoped that there would be time for a shower over at the station, but from the sounds of things he seriously doubted it. The early morning street was much more serene than he had imagined it would be, noticing only one car pass on the usualy busy road as he made his way to his car. He needed a coffee badly.

************************************************** ***********

Okay, over to you guys. On the second day things havn't got totaly unorganised yet but the normal world is being picked away at the seams. The streets will be a little quieter than before, but in town and city centres things will still look almost bisunes as usual. There will also be people scrabbling for supplies in all the big shops, local criminals taking advantage of reduced police presence, people falling ill and unconcious in the street and no police or ambulance being available to come get them, occasional fights in the street, very bad news reports.... in other words, today is the last day before things go to shit... and people are either in denial, taking advantage of it while a few truly see what is going on.

WhatI don't want to see is people arming up, heading for the hills and killing a dozen thugs in street brawls just yet. Things aren't that bad yet!

On a side note I've been informed that Slainpwner and Sarah have had to pull out of the RP, and also Black Cat hasn't been able to post in the time provided so she won't be able to continue in it.

This brings us to 9 players, so I'll accept people PM'ing me with their character concepts if they wish to join - just don't post them in the RP and please use the format I provided in the first post.

Next update will be Sat 4 September. Good luck!

[Crack5800]

Drinking was something Thomas never could really handle well. Particularly, the next morning. Waking up from an alcohol induced sleep, he was feeling very dazed as he slowly rose up from his bed and sighed heavily due to a hangover. His feet touched the always cold hardwood floor of his apartment. Rubbing his eyes slowly he looked over to his alarm clock lying next to his bed. 10:30 a.m the clock's blue lights aided Thomas's already evident headache as he shunned his eyes away from the clock and looked at the floor once more. Sighing, and running his hands through his hair he slowly stood to his feet, staggering to his left slightly as he did.

He began to slowly recap upon the meeting he, Jerry and Geoff had last night regarding the Thomas's film adaptation of Geoff Riley's beloved "Bulletstorm" comic book series. He remembered clearly that he and Geoff were on good terms as Thomas exited the bar at the end of their meeting, so that put a bit of a smile upon his face as he slowly made his way towards his window too get a glimpse of the more than likely busy city today. He had expected to see the streets crawling with pedestrians on their way to work, school, and other affairs they may have. The day before yielded a very slow, and somewhat eerie atmosphere as the streets were practically devoid of life.

Looking out though, his idea view of London on a Thursday morning was shattered as he saw the streets even more empty then that of this time yesterday. He opened his window to get a better view and take a breath of fresh air as well to hopefully calm his stomach which was feeling somewhat queasy. As he opened his window and stuck his head out, he began hearing various sounds throughout different areas of London. Some near him, and others not. He couldn't quite distinguish what they were at first. However, as he began to listen more intently, he could clearly tell what they were.

"Police sirens? What the hell?" he said to himself confused by the familiar, yet unsettling sounds of the 'boys in blue' so to speak.

He began to look out below him to maybe see any signs of someone walking, taking out their trash, receiving their morning paper, jogging or anything of that nature. There were none to be seen. This all didn't make sense to him.

"Is this flu thing really that bad? Oh man, I hope Scott's okay and mom and dad." he thought to himself as he slowly stuck his head back inside still hearing the sounds of sirens wail aloud as he did.

Shutting his window, he slowly turned and turned his AM/FM alarm clock on to BBC London 94.9 FM to hopefully catch a hint of good news about what may be going on with the city. As the signal settled, voices began speaking. However, it was different than that of the broadcast he briefly listened to yesterday morning when he first woke up. The man with all his wise, comedic tie-ins was the same, but the woman who was reading the news reports themselves was completely different.

"This is Katherine Hansen with BBC News at 10 for London for August-" she went silent.

The silence was unsettling as Thomas stood looking down upon his radio hoping for the woman's voice to come back on. After another couple of tense moments, her voice chimed back startling Thomas as it did.

"Sorry ladies and gentlemen for the brief delay. We've just received breaking news. The startling numbers for the latest flu pandemic are now in. Over half the populace of London have been diagnosed with the illness and there are more reports coming in now that fatalities have been linked with the outbreak of this latest spread of flu. Scientists have been working day and night to come up with an explanation for the sudden onset of this quickly widespread outbreak, but have yet to come up with any solid answers. Citizens are ordered to wear masks if they are to go outdoors and wash their hands at every chance they are able too. Vaccines are said to be currently in production to be sent to the masses. We will be sure to list those hospitals and other places that receive the the vaccines to you, the listeners asap. This is Katherine Hansen with BBC News at 10, London news."

He leaned over and turned the radio off. The announcement made him cringe as he began thinking about shooting next week for "Bulletstorm".

"Wow, unbelievable" standing to his feet and scratching his beard that was slowly forming upon his face.

"I'm mere days away from shooting my first picture and half of London or more have the bloody flu. Just my fucking luck."

He walked over to his phone to see the message light blinking. Thinking it was probably either Jerry or Geoff wanting to discuss the possibilities of shooting next week due to most of the cast and crew being down with this 'flu pandemic', he pressed the button awaiting to hear one of their voices.

"You have two messages!" the machine spoke aloud in it's automated, robotic voice.

-BEEP- "Oi! Thomas it's me, Jerry. I just wanted *COUGH, COUGH, COUGH* I just wanted to *COUGH* tell you I'll not be able to *COUGH, COUGH* make it this weekend to our *COUGH, COUGH, COUGH* cast meeting. I'm to *COUGH* bloody sick to even *COUGH, COUGH, COUGH, COUGH* fucking move! Ughh, I'll call *COUGH, COUGH* before Monday and hopefully I'll be *COUGH, COUGH* feeling better. Talk to you *COUGH* later Tom..." -BEEP-

Jerry's voice was almost unrecognizable, and it worried Thomas a great deal. He had never heard his friend in such a manner and he sounded much worse than he did the previous evening. He shook his head worriedly and readied himself for the next message that was about to play.

-BEEP- "Hello son, it's mum. I just wanted to check in on you and see how you are doing. I'm really worried about you son with this bad flu going around. The news is saying that more people have died from this thing in the past few days. I do hope that your doing well and taking care of yourself. Dad and Scott are both down with this flu. I'm not feeling too well myself actually, *cough* I've had a little cough and a low-grade fever for the past two days. The boys are much worse though. I can't seem to bring Scott's fever down at all and the doctor's aren't able to really do anything for him Thomas. Dear God, I hope he- never mind that. Dad won't see the doctor, you know him. I've been giving him tea and soup for the past two days, but he is looking just as bad as your brother. *cough* Oh, Thomas please try to come home when you can. I really could use your help or, God forbid if your sick then I need you here so I can take care of you. I love you son, so much. Please...take care of yourself and try to call me or come here when you can. *cough* I love you. -BEEP-

The machine clicked and as Thomas stood there silent, in the stillness of his room, he began to worry a great deal about his family. He bit his bottom lip at the thought of his younger brother, Scott, possibly becoming one of the fatalities he had heard about on the radio. He knew that shooting was more than likely not going to happen anytime soon and he accepted that...bitterly. He realized then, that he needed to go and check on them and make sure everything was okay. Maybe he would even stay a day or two just to put his mom at ease and help her some with dad and Scott. He picked up the phone to call Jerry to check up on him and make him aware of his plans to spend the next few days with his family.

"Come on Jerry, pick up your phone" he said worriedly as the phone continuously rang with no one on the other end seeming to pick up.

Finally, he gave up after hanging up, and trying to call him back a second time only yielding the same results. He angrily ended the second attempt,

"Fuck!" he said holding the phone in his hand wondering why his friend failed to answer.

"He's probably at the hospital" he mumbled to himself biting one of his fingernails nervously.

***Post continued below***

[Crack5800]

He then realized he would need to call Geoff as well to let him know what was his plans were going to be. Walking quickly over to his desk to try and find the his number he had wrote down to remember, he knew that shooting may not even start next week at all. It worried him, because the studio that was sponsoring him and allowing him to film would want to have results and see things starting to unfold by Wednesday of next week at least. After a few moments of searching, he finally found the number for Geoff. He dialed the numbers and once again began waiting anxiously, hoping this time, his phone call would be answered.

"Hello?" Geoff mumbled as he answered the phone.

"Uh, Geoff, it's me, Thomas. How are you doing?" Thomas asked nervously realizing he had just woken the man up and he didn't sound to enthused about it.

"Well lad, it's 11:00 a.m and I have a slight hangover and on these type of days I generally don't feel too well at all and try to sleep through it. So yeah, how can I help you?" his voice sounded rough and annoyed by Thomas's 'early' morning phone call.

"I, uh, just wanted to call and tell you that shooting has been postponed from the original date. This whole flu pandemic or whatever has really bogged down almost half, or more of London and my cast and crew are just to thin right now to really get any significant filming done at this time. They have no idea how long this shit is supposed to last or if its supposed to get worse."

"Yeah, I heard that. Everything is too quiet, even for my tastes. Is it really that bad?"

"From what I've heard on the news, yeah it is. I also wanted to say that another reason I'm pushing back shooting, is so I can go and be with my family for a few days. My brother and father are down with this flu and my mother is trying to take care of them both and she is also I think coming down with it as well."

"Ahh, I see. You sound worried lad. Don't sweat it, go and be with your family and we'll get to work sometime next week. Family comes first, remember that. Work will always be there, up to the day ya' die, lol."

Hearing Geoff's reassurance and understanding with the shooting schedule being changed really made Thomas feel good. He felt that this was a very understanding man. Upon realizing this, he knew that this was a rare find in the line of business he was in.

"Thank you Geoff and take care of yourself. Hope you don't get caught by this flu or whatever the hell it is."

"*YAWNING* Same to you my friend, same to you. Good day now."

"You too."

He hung up the phone and ended the conversation with Geoff. It made him feel much better than he originally did before the conversation had begun. He knew he should take a shower before he went to his mother's and he decided he would. Grabbing a towel from one of his dresser drawers, he walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and began to take a shower to start his already strange and hectic day.

*Next post pending story update...*

[Zorgy]

Shit.
He'd landed in shit. He wasn't sure what had produced the aforementioned shit but it was obviously shit. Lots of it.

With some considerable speed Stevie pulled himself out of the manure. He felt dazed and the nother of all head aches was on it's way. He scanned the garden looking for an escape and found a small wooden gate. He stumbled towards it somehow avoiding the broken glass that covered the garden.

He burst thrugh the gate to find himself face to the face with a policeman. It took his brain a few seconds to realise this, and by the time he had decided to flee his feet had already sprang into action. Years of escaping various angry people had left Stevie with pretty good reflexes so when a little car appeared from a side street he managed to vault the hood without breaking stride, the twat chasing him however slammed into the car face first. Stevie knew he'd never catch him now and began to relax. Feeling confident he flipped the bird at the cop before he was out of sight.

Stevie had no idea where he was running, (In his opinion when it came to running away the from was much more important than the to.) so he just kept pounding away through the dark back streets of London until he was completely lost. Stevie was miserable, he'd been fucked over by one of the very few people he considered a friend he was sore all over and he was covered in shit. Feeling extremely bitter and and alone he made his way to the nearby tube station.

Inside it seemed completely deserted. He reached in to his Jeans to get some money out but found that he couldn't afford it. He wished he'd brought his Oyster card with him. With a furtive glance around the room he leapt over the ticket booth and quickly made his way down the stairs. Confident he'd gotten away with it Stevie allowed himself a small smile.

A heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder.

[UKMD Elmo]

RP NOTE: Zorgy, we are now on Day 2 - please read up and stay with the current timeline, as well as editing/deleting your above post to fit in with it.

[Garfsan]

Geoff walked over to the phone that was blaring and checked the time, on the other side of the line was Sulley, and they exchanged there worries about the current climate of sick people in London, and also that the shooting date would be indefinitely cut until the city healed.

He slammed his fist on the table, knocking over the small figurines he had adorned atop them, and slowly gritted his teeth as he carried on listening to the news reports. He had already heard that a mask must be worn in public, and running on his two hour run this morning wearing a half face re-breather while running through the streets of London the few people that had dragged themselves to work, they gave him scared and worried looks.

He rolled his neck and stretched out his tired muscles, and then took a quick shower before he threw his work clothes on after scoffing a bowl of muesli, and sighed as he pulled on his work uniform, navy combats, white tee and his stab vest with "Security" on it.

He had decided to change from ticket dispenser to security after being trapped in the subway after the bombings. He closed his eyes and grimaced after the vision of being trapped in the wreckage of the carts and seeing many bleeding to death and some people he knew well simply a bloody stain on the floor.

He grabbed his duffel-bag, and stuffed his work day equipment in it. Zipping up the black jacket over his vest he patted his chest and then walked out of his apartment, slipping his mask back on after closing the door and walking down the stairs he could hear others coughing and vomiting as he listened to the crescendo of closing doors and hurried steps to get downstairs as the lift had never been fixed in the fifteen years living there.

Nodding to the doorman he started off in a jog and made his way to the underground entrance and slid down the stair rails to the bottom like he always did, smiling to himself as he knew what he did wasn't allowed to but did.

He made his way to the staff locker room, noticing that there was a larger Police Presence and some others in protective suits cordoning off the second staff room on the opposite side of the station.

Why are ARU here? Aren't the normal Police with guns enough? Cradled in some of the young officers hands and some steely veterans was a HK33 and sturdier looking armour.

What the hell?

There had been armed Police on the London Underground before, due to the need to protect in the heavily populated areas against terrorism but Geoff felt his fear rise when he saw several of his staff colleagues be taken away by some of the people in the protective suits.

He sat down in his office, Louis and his superior standing waiting for him, both with a look of anger but there body language reeked of sorrow.

"Geoff!" Glad you could make it lad!" his superior and head of Security Harold Decker sighed as his old craggy features and considerable bulk whined pointing to the security monitors. "We got the police here because they are trying to stop the spread of sick shits ruining the rest of the city for us." He paused, noticing the sturdy re-breather on Geoff's face

"Where'd you get the fancy gear bro?" Louis asked mentioning to the increasingly warm getting mask on his face, as he then pulled his own from his locker. Slipping it on he could see him raise his eyebrows at the Chief not doing so himself.

"Online" he sighed "Why is the ARU here?" Geoff could see Harold and Louis eyes widen when he asked that question "I can understand the normal Armed Police, but they look like they're readying for war."

"I know man," Louis added as Harold slumped back down to the desk, draining his sizeable tankard of coffee and grunting as he started to work through his mountain of paperwork. He ground his teeth together and slammed his meaty fist on the table.

"WELL!" he snarled his face reddening "GET TO WORK!"

Geoff and Louis slipped their outer clothes in their respective lockers and pulled on their equipment.

Louis shut the door and slapped Geoff on the back as he ran off to his station. Geoff sighed and clipped his radio to his belt, pulling up his earpiece to his ear under his vest he could already hear the others who started earlier talking and barking orders at the other Security officers and the coughs of some of his colleagues. It was going to be a long day and Geoff already felt pissed off at the proceedings.

"This is Geoff Riley" he paused pulling on his gloves, checking his filters "Signing in"

"Section 5 got a runner, take him out Kyning" He heard the roar of Deckers voice through his ears barking orders.

"Jenning! Get to section 5 and assist Kyning! RILEY! Get moving to your section! We got a couple of skinheads skipping paying."

Geoff cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing through the quiet hall, making one Lone Officer at the base of the steps that lead out turn to see what the noise was. She nodded to him in acknowledgement.

"Officer" he nodded back in respect as he pulled on his navy baseball cap, then slipping his baton onto his belt and made his way to the youths.

(Off topic: The mask he is wearing http://www.professionalequipment.com/product_images/A407-8601_product.jpg )

[Bill_the_nonchalant]

The faint sound of his alarm clock had awoken him after ten minutes of its consistent buzzing. He slowly opened his eyes, the orange glow of the morning sun creeping through the curtains of the otherwise depressing looking apartment. It took about five minutes before Berry could muster the energy to stand up, feeling light headed as he did so. He moved across the room towards the window and opened the blinds. He scanned the early morning streets, hoping that today would bring more people on their way to work. How he hated the silence of yesterday. But to his dismay, the streets looked even worse than they did before. He signed, looking down at his bare feet. It’s probably because it’s still early. It’s a slow morning if you’ve just recovered from illness. Berry thought to himself. He pushed himself away from the window to carry out his morning tasks. He crept slowly across the living room, making his way to the bathroom.

As he walked into the hallway Berry stopped. He was fixed on the thought of Alex; he needed to know his condition. He moved across the hallways, his eyes never leaving the door knob. He stopped before reaching for the doorknob, fearing the worst. Could he have died? Is this fatal? Berry shook with the thought, his handle trembling onto the handle; he took a deep breath before he turned the knob. Before he pushed open the door, Berry simply froze, he needed to gather some thought before he would open the door, recruit some confidence in his friends wellbeing before he was shocked with the truth of what he would have seen. Berry imagined him sitting up, looking out the window, a small grin on his face.

However, when Berry opened the door it was not what he saw. Alex was simply laying there. Berry didn’t move, he didn’t want to find his friend dead in his bed. He simply stood there too afraid to check. The white lump protruding out of the sheets was his friend anything else would be unacceptable. He clenched his fists and moved forward slowly, his breathing growing heavier as he drove deeper into the room. About hallway into he room he stopped, a small portion of the sheet was moving slowly up and down. Berry relaxed at the sight, his fists falling to his sides. Alex was alive, he was simply sleeping.

Berry went through the rest of the morning with relief, thankful to whoever said it so that his friend was still alive. That whatever this epidemic was didn’t take his life. He would have been worried for his friends at work if he had not been in high spirits. He got his cloths on and grabbed his satchel. He slung it over his body, hanging it across his chest.

He left his apartment and went down into the lobby, the receptionist stopping him before he left. “Mr. Dunlo?” She called out to him.

Berry turned to face her; she was a small woman, past her prime by many years.

“Yes?” Was his simple response.

She regarded him with nervous eyes; whatever she had to say was not good. And this made Berry feel the same way he did yesterday, all of the shit all over again. It irritated Berry how two days in a row made him feel paranoid that something bad was going to happen any second. This epidemic was making the city one giant playground less desirable citizens of London. It had to be since every cop in the city was working around the clock in every damn corner of the city. Or at least that’s what the news said, the newscaster being a stand in for yet another sick person.

“These came in during the night. You’re supposed to wear this at all time when outside due to the fear of the epidemic further spreading.” She reached under the desk and pulled out a gas mask. Berry’s Jaw dropped at the sight of it, he had never seen anything like this during any of the annual epidemics that the human race has seemed to experience. He slowly reached for it, his face expressing curiosity as well and frustration. His mouth formed a frown as he looked into the eyes of the mask. The greenish tints of the glass making him feel sick.

He looked at the receptionist for a moment with the same frustrated look he gave the mask. But the anger was not directed at her. “Do you know how to put this on?” He asked with fake patience.

“Just put it on and adjust the straps. If you ask me, it looks a little too big for something like this.”

“Yea, a mouth guard would have been enough. Now I gotta lug this around all day.”

The receptionist noted Berry’s frustration and wished him a good day, returning to her work, leaving Berry to stare at the overlarge gas mask. Guess the guys at the clinic are worried that it would get into my pores. He furrowed his brow and slipped it over his head, adjusting the straps behind his head. He looked around the room, despite the green tint, he could see everything in a fine colour.
“How do I look?” He asked the small woman. “Can you hear me OK?”

“Yes, just fine. And you look like you’re going to war.” She said with a grin.

Berry found it within himself to chuckle a bit. “Maybe I am, Susan.” He said before turning to the doors to face the scarcity and uncertainty of the dying London.

(For future reference, how do I apply Italics into my posts?)

[Bloodshed269]

Josh woke up and sprang out of bed. He threw on some clothes and bounded down the stairs. He entered the living room and found his parents sitting on the couch, watching t.v.

"Well?", he asked.

"Well what", said his parents.

"When do we leave for the airport?!?!" Josh almost yelled in excitement.

"We can't..."

At the sound of that, Josh felt like all the excitement and energy had been drained out of him.

"But, why?"

"The government has issued a state of emergency. They've authorized everybody to stay in their homes until further notice.", they said, somberly.

Josh headed back to his room, feeling miserable. He crawled back into bed, and didn't intend to get back out any time soon.....

[UKMD Elmo]

Things are going pretty well, and the story is about to take a turn for the more actiony next chapter. Still a few who aint posted yet so the deadline has been moved to this coming Monday. Get posting guys! :D

[Garfsan]

Geoff tensed when he made his patrols around the practically empty underground, broken only by the occasional commuter on his way home or some youths on their way to the pub, which is where Geoff wished he was. His knuckles were white with tension and from having them clenched all afternoon. The occasional form of a Police man shadowed by the lights overhead, standing silent like a statue the glint off the metal weapons catching Geoff's eye every time he was near. A dull whining wind that crept its way through the slowly emptying underground made his spine shiver making striding further on in his duties.

"Geoff" He swore under his breathe when the voice burned in his earpiece which came seemingly from nowhere. "How you feeling?"

He clenched the bad part of his neck and rubbed his face where a youth had smashed in across it with a cricket bat, and the rough stitching on his cheek, where some blood had seeped out of the rough stitches. It was a nasty fight..but not the nastiest Geoff had seen in his career.

Little mother fucker...

***

It was fine as Geoff made his rounds on the evening work train, and the one where college students boarded to go home after clubs and sports meets. There was way less people that he was used to and was starting to like the idea of less people he can actually talk to civilly than just a grunt, a middle finger, or a casual "fuck you stiff".

Making his way to a middle carriage on the 17:15 to Euston, a youth looked a little wired, possibly on drugs maybe to get away from the feeling of being sick. He was coughed on by someone nearby, a skinhead no less twice his size and weight. He of course he took anger to due to him not having a mask on, spreading germs and disease all over the shop. His anger rose, and he started shouting at the older man, who would easily put him out to pasture with a glance it seemed but of course the youth would have the last laugh.

It was a blur next really, after a really heated verbal exchange of words, shoving and much using of the F word there was a flash of a blade as I was feet away from the scene ready to defuse it but by then, however the older man had stabbed the youth in the stomach, forcing the youth to smashing his skull in with a bat he had recovered from his sports bag, assuming he just came from practice. The heavy two handed swing stunned the skinhead dashing a spray of arterial fluid from a ruptured nose across the floor.

The fight was brutal, and a lot of times to avoid injury people were told to back away, and back away they did. Screaming and shouting were the order of the day with a mixture of shouting expletives and a sprinkle of racial slur.

Geoff was right next to the skinhead when he saw him, turning and then slashing at the youth again, drawing blood yet again as the sideways one handed blow struck the older man in the forearm, parrying it with his muscular frame. The youth's face was screwed up with rage, and his eyes were practically bulging out of his skull, with some crimson liquid dribbling down the corner of his mouth. He was off his head and not of sane mind.

"Little bastard!" Geoff saw the youth babble something incoherently and swing again, the older man ducking away from and under wild swings. Geoff had called in back up and warned the train driver of the danger as he made his presence felt by slamming the skinheads now stretched back hand into the pole he was sat next to, causing the knife to scatter to the youths feet.

With a grunt he turned, and saw Geoff scowl with rage and somehow the older man backed off and darted to one side as the bat came and connected with his face.

Geoff swore and just managed to step back as he was attacked by the youth brandishing the knife.

Red hot pain seared down the side of his face as the form of Louis grabbed the youth and slammed him face first into the floor, grinding his wrist and wrenching the other arm up his back to hold him down yet still he thrashed away until Louis bought his elbow down on his skull, silencing him.

Geoff grunted and turned him over, seeing how serious the kids wounds were as the train screeched to a halt, a young officer with his HK in front of him, pointed at the youth as a paramedic began work on him.

Geoff was moved to one side, and the skinhead gave him a nod of respect and muttered.

"He was doped up on speed, crack and maybe meth. Couldn't feel a bloody thing until your friend made him feel knocked out." He shook his head as the paramedic who had recently arrived dabbed at his head on the seat outside.

Geoff gave his statement, grimaced as the doc stitched his face up, it wasn't deep and then he got back to work, patrolling the underground of London Euston.

He got more serious looks from the Police now, and only one who he had learned the name of asked if he was ok. He simply nodded and moved on, after all he once finished a shift with three bruised ribs, a broken wrist and a shattered nose. Just another days work for a security guard at the London Underground.

***

"Yeah Boss I've had a fucking fantastic night..and I'm bloody brilliant thanks..."

"Good" He replied with a gruff tone most likely jacked up on caffeine, as it was past midnight "Good news princess. Your on a double shift".

"Oh goddamnit.."

OFF TOPIC: Bill, the easiest way I find is to highlight what you want to Italic and then hold down CTRL and press I.

Thats my last post for this chapter, as his shift will take him into the wee hours of Friday morning.

[Crack5800]

Six months. Six months since the last time he saw them. He struggled to come up with an opening line to say to his mother when she opened the door for him when he would arrive. A feeling of heaviness began settling in as he stared out of the cabbie window at the passing scenery. Street upon street was seemingly devoid of any life at all besides an occasional stray cat or a sole individual walking. He shook his head in disbelief at the continued absence of people within the city. It has been weeks since the last time he could remember seeing any life on the streets of London. Children walking to school, young women out jogging with their dogs, men going off to work at their offices, teenagers just getting in from laying out all night; all now a distant memory it seemed.

He tugged at his mask that was covering his mouth as it was causing him some discomfort. The news reports had been heavily advertising that people wear these masks every time they leave their homes or when they are to come into contact with other individuals. Nevertheless, he still thought that the mask was a damned inconvenience. He looked up at the driver, who appeared to be under the weather. Nervously, Thomas spoke,

"Do... do you have that flu that's been going around?"

The driver of the cabbie was fidgeting with the knobs for the radio trying to find a station. As he finally decided to leave it on a news station, he glanced back at Thomas and replied,

"*COUGH* Ah, I don't personally *COUGH* think so. I was having some allergy *COUGH* problems a few weeks back. This *COUGH* shit always happens this time of the *COUGH* year. Ugh, I still feel bloody cruddy *COUGH* though."

Looking at the back of the driver's head, Thomas glared at him nervously.

"Oh, I-I see. Well, hope you get to feelin' better soon."

"Yeah, thanks *COUGH*."

He began to feel very uncomfortable as the driver continued to cough away. Thomas then began thinking of his friend and producer, Jerry. He to, has the exact same symptoms and cough that this driver has. Thomas knew the driver was probably bullshitting him so customers wouldn't call in to his agency and report him, which would lead him straight to the unemployment line. Still, he knew Jerry would probably appreciate a visit from his 'director'/friend sometime soon, and would probably love it even more if he presented Jerry with a new updated draft of the script for "Bulletstorm". He chuckled at the though as he continued to stare out of the window. As they drove on, he saw the entrance to the subway tunnel being guarded with an unusual looking group of police forces or something of the sort. He stared curiously as he saw people being stopped, questioned, and some even taken away. Looking down at his watch which read, 2:45 p.m. He anticipated seeing his family for the first time since he had graduated film school and the anticipation was making him feel uneasy.

"Looking to be one *COUGH* hell of a day *COUGH* don't ya' think *COUGH*?" the driver said seeing the commotion over by the subway entrance.

"Yeah, seems like it." Thomas replied still looking through the window out into the empty, deserted streets of London.

***Post continued below***

[Crack5800]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We're here! *COUGH*" the cabbie driver shouted as Thomas opened this eyes to see his parent's house.

He remembered falling asleep not long after his conversation with the cabbie driver earlier and now realized he had slept through the remainder of the trip. It normally takes Thomas at least an hour and a half to reach his parent's home. He looked down at his watch, 3:50 p.m. Sighing as he looked groggily at the driver who was about to begin say the price Thomas owed him before Thomas asked,

"How *YAWNING* much do I owe you?"

"Twenty-five please" the driver responded.

He reached into his wallet and pulled out the last bit of euros he had left. Now, he dreaded the fact of having to ask his mother for more money when he was to leave in a few days. Handing the driver the last of his funds, he sighed heavily and nodded at the driver, grabbed his bag, and stepped out of the cab.

The house in which Thomas grew up in what was an average home in London. It was a two-story, brown house with a black, metal fence in the front of it with a small gated door leading to the concrete pathway that lead to the front porch. He began looking around the neighborhood at the other houses. Most of them he remembered seeing, and some he remembered having friends that lived in them when he was younger. He chuckled to himself as he looked a few houses down the street where he once sneaked late at night to be with his at the time girlfriend. He bit his upper lip and smiled as he opened the gated door and began walking towards the front porch.

"THOMAS!" a voice rang out as he began ascending the stairs to the front door.

He looked over surprisingly at the window to see his mother looking at him with a large smile upon her face. She quickly duck away and ran through the house and opened the door, hugging Thomas tightly as she stepped out onto the porch.

"Oh son, I've missed *cough* you so much. We all have. *cough* it's good to see you. How was the drive *cough* over here?

Thomas looked down into his mother's eyes with a mixture of love and worry. Her cough had seemed to worsen that from what it was on the message she had left hours previous. He smiled, but knew she wouldn't be able to see his smile due to his mask.

"It... it was quiet. There's hardly anyone out on the streets except a few police units here and there."

His mother looked away for a moment and, like all mother's do, sighed worriedly with a look of deep concern for the situations going around them that did or may affect her family in some form or fashion. She looked back up to him and smiled.

"Well, I'm *cough* glad your here. *cough* Come inside, dad and *cough* Scott will want to see you."

She lead him through the doorway and into the house. Looking around, it was as if he hadn't been home in years. Everything was different, the layout of the furniture, placement of family photos, and the biggest change, was the loss of tempting aroma coming from the kitchen when his mother cooked. She loved to cook at almost every chance she could. However, as of late, due to her stress over him, his brother and father as well as her own declining health, she's probably not had much time to cook whatsoever. As he placed his bags on the floor, she spoke as she began to enter the living room.

"Keep your mask on Thomas. I don't want you to pick up what your brother and father have and, apparently I'm catching it as well. So please, for me, keep it on."

"Alright mum, I will. Where's Scott and pop?" he asked as he began looking about the house and on into the living room.

"Ya' father's right here on the couch" she said gently grabbing his shoulder and squeezing it.

Turning around from the ever repetitious news channel, his father looked at Thomas with a look of joy, but was quickly masked by his ailment that seemed to make him look almost like a living corpse.

"Thomas son! *COUGH* Come here, I've *COUGH* missed you so much my boy *COUGH*."

Thomas walked around the couch and hugged his father who was now standing on his feet looking Thomas in the eyes. His father was the same size as he was. However, he was much bigger than Thomas. He was more broad in the shoulders and had a good sized belly about him. However, his father was more than capable of holding his own in a good game of rugby which the family enjoyed around Christmas time. At that moment, he missed being with them. He missed the warmth he felt when his father embraced him as he did. His mother smiled at the two of them, turned, and began to make her way upstairs, leaving the two of them alone.

"How *COUGH, COUGH* are you *COUGH* feeling son? *COUGH*"

His cough was coarse, rough, and sounded almost as if he had lung cancer. It worried Thomas greatly. He had never heard anyone cough or look so terrible in his life, except Jerry.

"I'm doing alright dad. Just thought you guys needed me for a few days. I've been really busy, what with shooting for "Bulletstorm" and all. Course, with all this flu epidemic going around, I don't think I'll be able to make much progress at all."

His dad nodded and continued to cough heavily as he sat back down upon the couch. He glanced at the news station his dad was watching and sighed. Wiping his nose, his father spoke,

"This *COUGH* flu thing *COUGH, COUGH* really has alot of people *COUGH, COUGH* down. I've never *COUGH* seen anything quite *COUGH, COUGH* like it. Ugh, *COUGH* I've never felt this *COUGH* bad in my life either. I'm just glad *COUGH, COUGH* you seem to have been *COUGH* able to steer clear *COUGH, COUGH* of it Tom."

"Yeah dad, as am I. I just hope all this blows over soon. You need to be well enough to come to the premier!" Thomas said smiling as he gripped his father's shoulder and nudged him.

Shaking his head smiling, his father looked up at him and replied,

"Oh son, *COUGH* don't worry. I'll *COUGH, COUGH* be there. *COUGH, COUGH* Wouldn't miss it for anything. I'm just really happy to see you now son. I've missed you *COUGH* alot. I love you Tom."

He smiled as he looked down into his father's tired, weary eyes. He could see he was very sick and very stressed out on top of it. His work, the family, trying to help pay off Tom's schooling as well as his apartment. Thomas felt a sense of dread come over him. He didn't want his family to suffer for his life choices and his failings he had thus far.

"I love you too dad" he replied leaning down, and hugging him once more.

Leaning up and looking back at the stairs, he saw his mother standing there with a smile on her face, and coughing still.

"Scott's really excited to see you. Well, as excited as he can get what with his condition and all. He really wants to see you Tom" his mother said grabbing a tissue from her pocket and coughing into it.

He looked down at his father who simply nodded and smiled. Thomas nodded back and began to make his way up the stairs to his brother's bedroom. As he ascended the stairs, he began to notice the pictures hanging upon the wall. Each of them representing much happier, healthier times in their lives. One photo, was the trip they took to Paris and they visited the Eiffel Tower. Thomas was eighteen then and Scott was thirteen. Another photo, showed them around Christmas time. Scott, Tom and their father were outside having their annual game of rugby with the rest of the family. He smiled to himself as he finished ascending the stairs and began walking towards his brother's bedroom door.

***Post continued below***

[Crack5800]

Opening the door slowly, he could smell a mixture of scented candles, and Vick's vapo-rub. The smell, at first was almost intoxicating making Thomas reel somewhat from the initial smell as he opened the door. Looking about the room, he could tell his mother had been taking care of Scott not only with his medical needs, but also his cleaning needs as well. His brother was never really the type to be motivated to clean and organize things, so the site of a clean room wit Scott living in it was somewhat startling to him. He saw Scott lying on his bed and walked over to sit next to him.

At first, he felt his brother was dead. He didn't move at all when Thomas entered the room and furthermore, he seemed oblivious to the fact he was even in the room. He looked at his mother with worry. She shook her head and motioned him to wake him. He nodded nervously as she smiled back and quietly exited the room, leaving the two brothers alone. He looked down at Scott and softly began nudging his shoulder. Scott opened his eyes slowly and looked at Thomas with a smile as he did. Slowly trying to sit up, Scott began to speak in a quiet, soft spoken tone.

"Hey bro. How are you?" the softness of his voice startled Thomas a great deal as he looked at his brother with concern.

"I-I'm alright little bro. How do you feel? What's up with your voice? You sound like a squeak toy with it's squeaker taken out."

Scott chuckled and grinned shaking his head as he glanced about his room. He looked back at Thomas and replied,

"I've had the flu from hell, and I've coughed so much I don't have my voice. That answer your question smartass?" he said wincing in pain as he shifted his body some.

Thomas chuckled and shook his head as he patted his brother's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess it does. Mum tells me you've been sick for a long time. Almost as long as dad, no?"

"Ah, I suppose so. I don't really know, it just happened one day to me and then dad that next. This really sucks *sigh* more than you know Tom. Mom's been going haywire and she's gettin' sick herself. Things are really getting shitty."

Thomas frowned and looked away from Scott. He knew what his brother was saying was true. Course, not only has he not been there for the duration of this flu epidemic, he's not been here in over six months. He and Scott had been close before he went off to school and then moved out into the city. He wished he could have that closeness once more with not only his brother, but with the rest of the family as well.

"I'm sorry Scott. I know I shoulda' been here during all this shit. I-"

"Hey bro, don't worry about it yeah? You've got your job and life to live now and they know that. So stop moping about it and hand me that glass of water next to you yeah?"

He glanced over to the counter beside him and saw the glass of water Scott was talking about. Smiling as he handed the glass to him, he saw Scott chug the liquid quickly and let out a sigh of relief as he finished it. He handed the cup back to Thomas, who placed it back onto the counter top. As he struggled to think of what else to say, Scott struggled to utter the words,

"Tom, please tell me your going to stay for a bit? I won't lie, but I've missed ya' bro. I want to hear about "Bulletstorm" and how the shooting is going. You know I've read them all right? So if you fuck up the shooting, I'll be the first one to tell ya' so" Scott said chuckling as he looked at Thomas smiled smiled gripping his forearm as he did.

Thomas looked at him and shook his head in amusement at his brother's remark.

"Yeah man, I'm staying for a few days and don't worry about shooting. Everything is going to get started as soon as this flu epidemic quiets down and I can get my cast and crew out and ready. And NO, I'm not going to fuck up the shooting. I think a comic book nerd like you will even appreciate it" Thomas laughed aloud as he nudged Scott's shoulder and smiled.

Scott shook his head and smiled as he looked towards the window. Silence began to settle between the two of them. Thomas struggled to come to terms with seeing his brother in the state he was in. He had never seen his brother this sick and this bent out of shape. It worried him greatly. He remembered hearing about the death toll of this flu epidemic rising and he wondered if his brother would be apart of that statistic. He looked away for a moment and struggled to not cry. Scott, seeing distress upon his brother's face, spoke,

"I'm not gonna' die Tom. Haven't you ever been sick before?"

Looking back at him with concern, Thomas replied,

"Yeah, but I've never seen or been his sick before. I just... I just care about you alright Scott? It's what I'm supposed to do."

"Yeah, I guess. Just don't worry so much, or you'll start to be like mum and that's the LAST thing I need is another mum."

The two of them laughed a great deal at the remark and for a moment, Thomas felt like they were two brother's bonding. Like they once did with one another. As the laughter settled, Thomas looked at the doorway and then at his watch, 5:00 p.m. He then looked at Scott and said,

"Hey Scott, I'm going to see if mum needs anything and then maybe take a bit of a nap. I'm tired as hell."

Scott shook his head in agreement and replied,

"Alright, sounds good. Love ya' bro and I'll see ya' at dinner."

Thomas looked at Scott and rubbed his forearm and leaned down and hugged him close. He held on to him and closed his eyes for a moment, wishing that he could be as close as he once was with him. Wishing that the two of them could just go back and be kids again and enjoy life.

"I love you too Scott. I'll see ya' in a bit."

He stood up from the bed and walked out of the room, glancing back at Scott once more as he did. As he walked out of the room, he saw his mother coming out of the bathroom, wiping her mouth off with a towel. His mouth dropped as he saw signs of weakness as well as sickness. He knew then, that she too was falling prey to the flu that was going around. He walked up to his mother and placed his arm around her.

"Mum, are you alright?" he asked looking down at her.

She sighed and looked at him with a grim look about her.

"I- I don't think so. I've got *cough* this same thing your *cough* father and brother have *cough*. I can't afford to *cough* go down on them *cough* yet. They *cough* need me.

"Everything will be alright mum, I promise. Is there anything I can do right now to help you?" Thomas asked as she began to head towards the stairs.

"I'm getting ready to prepare dinner *cough* now. I won't *cough* need much of *cough* anything at the moment. Your father *cough* is fine for now and *cough* your brother... well, *cough* I don't know" she said as she stopped and looked away as tears began to stream down her face.

Thomas heard the pain in her voice and knew that she was becoming overwhelmed with all that was happening around her. He knew she needed him now more than ever and that he needed to be there for her. She had sacrificed so much for him and now it was his turn to start repaying her for it.

"Come on, I'll help you make dinner. Afterwards, I'm going to get some sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow and I want to be able to help you as much as I can" he said as he began walking down the stairs.

Looking down at him as he descended the stairs, his mother spoke,

"You being here *cough* now Tom, *cough* helps me more than *cough* you will ever *cough* know. It does."

The rest of the evening was spent helping his mother prepare dinner. Meat loaf, potatoes, and greens. The thought of the dinner while helping his mother prepare it, made his mouth water with anticipation. The four of them ate together, as a family and conversed about the current events with the flu epidemic and other affairs. After the dinner, Thomas helped his mother put Scott to bed and then went off to bed himself. He was more than exhausted from the day's activities and even more exhausted knowing the fact that he would have to help do twice as much tomorrow. However, he knew that his presence there with them was helping them and even if he didn't admit it to anyone, he himself needed to be there with them. It was his own personal vacation and he was glad for it.

He lied down on his old futon bed in his old room. The room was mostly empty now, except a few band posters and his old shelf with his movie collection in it. He sighed heavily as he placed his head on the pillow his mother had given him and slowly began drifting to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would bring good to his family, as well as himself.

*Next post pending story update...*

[Jesus123]

Screams.... that's the last thing Jordan heard coming from the television set before it went completely out, days ago. It's in your dream where the true horrors of your imagination unfold and the deal out what only you could imagine. But not this, this wasn't fake, this was happening all before his eyes. He watched as multiple men ripped the flesh off of a man and once all was said and done, their eyes shifted to him....

********

Day 2: Awakening

Jordan laying down in his bed, his eyes slowly opened as the beams of light pierced his vision, blurring it for a few seconds. He looked at his clock on the side of his bed but noticed no power was going to it, and that many other electronics weren't working. He guessed the power was out and that he was going to be late for work, as he obviously must of slept in. Hopping back into his daily routine, he got ready for the morning without power, and went to go wake-up his step-mom and step-brother. He walked into their rooms but they were gone, so he assumed that they woke up earlier than he thought and were going about their day. After taking a shower, and getting dressed back in his room, he grabbed his digital watch from a stand in there and looked at the time. It was early afternoon, so he guessed he'd have to walk to his workplace and tell them about his problem, so he wouldn't lose his job. Putting on his shoes, he quickly go out the door and headed for his workplace.

Jordan decided to walk instead of riding his bike, and noticed almost nobody was out today. Strange, today was a Tuesday which is one of the busiest days of the week around the area. As he made his way to the front entrance of the mart, he noticed it was closed and disregarded it as a bad day, and started making his way back home. He decided to go to a nearby electronics store and see if they had anything interesting to look at.

[Bill_the_nonchalant]

Berry marched down the sidewalk, frustration still clear in his mind. He had been in a good mood his morning, but the government had to screw that up. Berry could have sworn from the weight of it that he had delivered a box of these yesterday, the though of him delivering this canvas of crap on his face to someone else made him feel guilty.

Berry's phone rang. He clumsily took it out of his pocket, the big good plan from the government making this a difficult task. He finally fished it out, turning his pocket inside out as he retrieved it. The caller ID said "Tyson."

He grunted, turning the phone on and putting it on his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Berry." His voice was weak and raspy. "Listen, mate. You don't have to bother coming into work today. I'm feeling ill and Cid called in as well. Alright?"

Berry stopped dead in his tracks, now Tyson and Cid had come down with the flu. More than likely the same one Alex had. He thought of the both of them, suffering in their beds while the city around them slowly died. Assuming it WAS fatal.

God, I hope not. Berry thought. "Alright, Ty. Get better soon, alright?" Was all he could muster up before hanging up and returning back to his apartment.

He stepped into the lobby, his eyes instantly running towards Susan. She still sat there, typing on her computer as she often did. She looked at him, her aged face exchanging a welcoming smile. Berry gestured towards her, the mask covering his face.

So, Berry spend the majority of his day watching television, his attention mostly focused on the news. All it spoke of was this new strand of the "cold" that everyone seemed to be getting. Much news of riots breaking out in many places due to the less ill getting tossed out of the hospitals due to an overwhelming amount of people contracting this disease. Most of these reports came from Scotland, where the first patient infected had crawled into the front doors.

Before he went to bed, Berry checked out the window again, the night not bringing out the usual ruckus the bar across the road had summoned. The same feeling washed over Berry again, the feeling of ill fortune to be well in this epidemic, to be one of the people who had to walk through the eerie streets of London.

He walked into his room and opened his closet, his attention instantly going to his objective, a metal baseball bat he kept under his helmet. He picked it up, staring at the gray bore of the bat. That night, Berry slept with it nearby, not taking any chances. If anyone tried to break into his out die to the lack of police, he would be ready.

(I had so much more in mind for this part, but it;s late. I'll try to get more into this tomorrow.)

[UKMD Elmo]

Another 12 hours for Jesus to post something more substantial and the on-posters to get a move on! :D

[UKMD Elmo]

Chapter 3 - 'Only Individuals'

Day 3

"Back! Get back!" Mike shouted, holding out his left hand palm flat while his right held the baton above his head. The young but well built man had already dropped the stero and picked up a baseball bat left lying in the street he could only assume had been used to smash open the front of the shop. A call had come through only a minute earlier about possible looters at the electronics store and it was unusual to catch someone this red handed, and even more unusual when instead of running or giving up they want to fight.

"I said get back!" Mike shouted at the man, stepping forward one pace and getting ready to swing it at the arm holding the bat. The young black male looked ill, as though he had come down with the same flu that had swept the city almost overnight but was still somehow more preoccuped with taking advantage of the rapidly increasing social chaos.

"Fuck you bacon, do what I fucking like" He said and lunged forward swinging madly with the bat for the policeman's head. Mike stepped back quickly and rapped the baton as hard as he could on his elbow, hearing a snapping crunch as the bat flew from the man's hands. As he stood reeling Mike hit him again at the back of the knees, causing him to collapse in a heap on top of the smashed glass from the shop front.

"You're under arrest for burglary. You do not have to say anything, but it may ha-"

"Who cares man! My family is dead, my mates are dead or gone. Town's going to shit, and you want to arrest me?" The man said, between coughing and grimacing over his injured elbow.

Mike continued to read him his rights as he fastened the cuffs to his wrists, but he could hardly disagree with the man. He had been on duty on and off over 24 hours now, catching two brief periods of sleep at the station house before being dragged up and called to another incident. The city was going from bad to worse overnight and Mike hardly knew what was going on or who was in charge anymore. The radio was neverquiet what with so many crimes being reported and only enough officers who were fit and well to visit one in ten of them. From what he could tell they had scraped together every single member of staff they could, even getting office workers and PCSO's tocover night shifts and assist officers where they could the demand for more bodies was so high.

Mike glanced up and acknowledged the police van arrive, nodding his appreciation to the sergeant driving when he simply took the prisoner off his hands and simply drove away, with no requirement for paperwork. usualy taking someone in for such an offence would mean the rest of your shift behind the desk, but with things how they were it was deemed enough to simply hold the offenders instead of booking them in through due process. The need was that bad, and it made Mike very uncomfortable.

He waited by the store front and the owner arrived some minuts later, looking as ill as most of the other people he had come into contact with and seeming too exhausted to even care that he had just been stolen from. After handing him his number he dragged himself back to his patrol car, collapsed into the drivers seat and took a sip of his long cooled coffee. The caffeine and the short sleeps at the station house were doing enough to keep him on his feet, but with the non stop work and stopping civil disturbances in the street he could feel the coiling tendrils of fatigue start to work their way into the corners of his mind.

Sargeant Harris had died during the night at home in bed with his wife, as had PC Dawes, PC Statham and three PCSO's from his office. He had heard from a fairly new inspector that had done the briefing that morning that three metropolitan officers had even been kille in the line of duty that night, as well as a few dozen more across the country as they fought to keep the peace. From the little he could gather from the radio and the news reports he saw at the station the body count was catastrophic in proprtions. From early estimates they were predicting tha only 10% of the population were so far untouched by the virus, or whatever it was, and that as yet nobody had recovered from it. There were even reports of some people turning crazy from the virus and lashing out at others, intermixed with half hearted attempts at optimism from the newscasters, even though most of them looked like they had it too.

Mike glanced at his watch, registering it was 9-o'clock and that this part of London should be in the middle of rush-hour. The streets weren't exactly dead, but only a few pedestrians could be seen walking up and down and looking either terrified, ill, or oddly numb, all of them trying not to notice the broken shop front and the owner's feeble attempts to put a wooden board up in front of it. A car sped past him followed by three more all loaded with what looked like camping equipment headed for the outskirts of the city. Normaly he would have pulled them over or at least taken down their registration numbers, but he was finding it hard to remember the last car that wasn't speeding or driving erraticaly over the last day or so.

The radio was quiet for now, so he took another sip of his coffee and started the engine, intending to head to the industrial part of this area to make sure no larger scale thefts were going on. He paused, sighed, and got out of the car to spend the next ten minutes assisting the shop owner with securing the front of his shop.

'This is what matters' he was telling himself in his head, fighting the feeling that the poor man would be dead in the day regardless. He concentrated on hammering the nail into the wood....

*************************************************

Things have most assuredly hit the fan. The streets will steadily become more dsangerous throughout the day, from being fairly quiet but dangerous to full blown riots at the end of the day. There is some semblance of law and order in the city, and some shops are still trying to open up and make a living as normal despite it all, but things are far from normal and it's all gone bad very very quickly.

Next update will be Wednesday next week.

Bext of luck!

[Crack5800]

Lying in bed, Thomas's senses began to come alive as the aroma of muffins and eggs began to fill his nostrils. His eyes slowly winced open as he sighed running his hand through his long, unorganized hair. As he rose to his feet, he began to realize that the house was ominously quiet and it unsettled him some. He reached down into his bag and pulled out a towel and made his way into the bathroom to take a shower as his mother's cooking made his stomach begin to growl fiercely with hunger.

"Do you think *COUGH* we have enough *COUGH* medicine to last him through *COUGH* the rest of the week? *COUGH*" Thomas's father, Robert asked Thomas's mother, Shirley as she began to pull dishes down from a cabinet on the wall.

She sighed solemnly as she placed the plates neatly on the table top. She didn't answer for a moment and Thomas's father began to worry. He walked up to her, coughing heavily as he did and looked at her.

"*COUGH, COUGH, COUGH* I will go out and *COUGH* get some medicine from him in the city *COUGH* you know as well as I *COUGH* do that he's been suffering greatly *COUGH*."

She looked into his eyes as he covered his mouth still coughing. He looked thinner, much thinner than he had a month ago. The flu had ravaged his body it seemed not only on the outside, but inside as well. His eyes were black underneath and his facial bones began to show more and more as the days passed. She couldn't bare it; the idea of having this sickness made her begin to weep as she sank her face into his shoulder and began to weep sorrowfully.

"I don't know what to do *cough, cough* what to *COUGH* anymore Robert! This has been going on for weeks now and *cough, COUGH* it doesn't *COUGH* seem to be getting any *COUGH* better. Scott is getting worse each *cough* day and-I don't know *COUGH* what to do for him! I can't *COUGH* seem to help him or *COUGH, COUGH* you.

Her voice was raspy as well as unrecognizable. In her career as being a mother and a wife, she had only been sick twice. Both times though, she had worked through the illnesses and was able to still provide for her family and tend to them. She embodied what a true, loving wife and mother was supposed to be for her family. No matter what, she put her family before herself and never said a word. Now, she felt helpless. Afraid that she will unable to keep it together any longer. These thoughts among others raced through her mind as she struggled to regain her composure in front of her husband who held her close and stroked her hair softly and calmly spoke to her,

"Shh, it's *COUGH* alright Shirley. *COUGH* We'll make it through this, I promise."

Looking up into his eyes, she felt a sense of peace and calmness begin to take over. She also showed signs of the flu that had been ravaging everyone in her family. Her eyes began to water as did her chest began to tighten up as she strained to cough it all out. She turned, and walked back over to the table and continued to lay out the silverware.

"Think Thomas *COUGH* can go?" Robert asked.

She sighed, shook her head and said,

"I suppose he *cough, cough* can. I think I hear him getting out of the shower *cough* now. Thomas? *cough, cough* are you out yet hun?"

"Yeah mum, I am what do you need?" he replied putting his shirt on and placing his mask over his mouth.

He walked out of the bedroom popping his knuckles and yawning as he smelled the aroma filling the kitchen. Licking his lips and smiling he said,

"Mmm mum, it smells amazing in here. What are ya' making?"

His mother smiled and pulled open the oven door, sniffing the muffins still baking inside.

"Muffins and eggs Tom. *cough, cough* I knew you'd be hungry and *cough* figured you may *cough, cough* not have had a really good *cough, cough* meal for a long time. *cough* Am I right?" she said smiling peacefully at him.

He nodded his head and laughed as he leaned against the kitchen counter. He looked over to his father who was still coughing and looked even more sick than yesterday when Thomas first arrived.

"Dad, are you okay?" he asked.

"*COUGH* Ughh, not really Tom. I'm feeling *COUGH* even more under the weather than yesterday, but I'm *COUGH* still alive so I guess I can't complain. Uh, Thomas we need you *COUGH* to do something if your willing to that is" his father asked looking at Tom as he began to eye him curiously.

Thomas asked,

"What is it dad?"

"Your mum and *COUGH* were wondering if you could *COUGH* run into the city and pick up your some medicine *COUGH* for us. Particularly for your brother. We will give *COUGH* the money for it. Please son *COUGH*?"

Thomas looked at his father quietly for a moment. His eyes were red and dark circles were evident underneath. He seemed to be waisting away and unable to breath due to the consistent coughing that plagued him, his mother and his brother. He knew they needed him. He was the only one well enough to make the run. At that moment he began thinking of his brother who lie in bed upstairs. He knew that if he didn't have any sort of medicine that his condition may grow worse. His brother, along with his parents needed him and he knew that he had no choice but to be there for them. He looked at his father and replied,

"Of course I'll go. Just tell me where you need me to go."

He was putting his shoes on when his mother came up to and handed him the money for the drugs they were needing and a list. He looked down at the list and then back up at his mother.

"It's the prescriptions *cough* we will be needing. I called ahead and they said *COUGH* they would hold some for you *cough* to pick up. They can't hold it all day, so try to get there as *COUGH, COUGH* quickly as you can okay Tom?"

He nodded his head and hugged her tight.

"I'll be be back soon, I promise. I love ya' mum."

She leaned back and looked into his eyes, smiled and replied,

"I love you too."

He put the list into his pocket and began to make his way out into the street in front of his house to begin to look for a cabbie to take him into the city. As he hailed the cabbie, he turned and looked back at his mother who was standing on the front porch along side his father. He waved to them and entered the cabbie. The driver turned, and asked him,

"Where *COUGH, cough* too?

"Centre-Court Shopping Centre please."

"Shouldn't take us *COUGH* long. Not much traffic at all *COUGH* considering all of the unruly people *COUGH* and looters running about with cops chasing after them *COUGH*."

"What? What is going on?" Thomas looked at him uneasily.

"I'm *COUGH* not sure really. *COUGH* This whole flu thing has gotten everyone *COUGH* riled up. Anyways *COUGH* we'll be on our way *COUGH*.

As the cabbie began to move, Thomas looked out into the empty streets. They hadn't changed hardly at all from yesterday and a growing concern began to infiltrate his mind. He worried for the family he was having to leave behind, but he knew he would be back. This whole thing was going to blow over and end in the next few days and he would be back to his normal life getting ready to begin shooting "Bulletstorm". He spoke aloud while still looking out of the window,

"Think the world was coming to an end or some shit like that eh?"

*Next post pending story update*

[Garfsan]

It was 09:45 and Derek grunted and cursed under his breath as he rubbed his sore neck, thumping headache and stinging cut that arched it way down from his brow to his lip leaving a fine bloody line that periodically spat out an acid throbbing of pain.

He sighed, gulping down another mug of caffeine in the office and went about refilling his water canteen.

The night had been hell, well no. The night had been a goddamn fucking nightmare. His muscles burned, his eyes stung and his bones ached. Another two hours and forty five minutes and he would have finished his fifth twenty-four hour shift.

"This can't be legal.." he whined pouring his fifth cup of coffee in the last ten minutes. He was gonna be wired on the stuff but it would be needed.

Slowly he did some stretches and slid his filled canteen back onto his belt.

"How you holding up?" A young new starter asked his equally new comrade "Fucking terrible..I did security in Afghanistan and that was a cakewalk compared to this.. it feels like I have been up for hours..what's with the angriness of this population mate?" he was a yank, and spoke in a Southern drawl.

Geoff sighed and coughed loudly "Guys, I've been working this line since I was 16.." he paused gulping down another hot coffee "It will get worse because the higher ups are going to close the lines.. stop the spread of the infection in the city. Hell knows if it will work fella. Till then all we can do is wait and do our jobs."

"I didn't get your name at this mornings breifing..were you there?" He extended his hand out with a warm smile, his bulky muscled physique and typical ex Ranger personality chimed across. Geoff had met a few in his time.

"Names Geoff." He shook his hand firmly and then the other younger ones, "Foster" he replied "Wellbrooks" said the other.

Geoff stretched and burped loudly, getting a sigh from some and a chuckle from others. The caffeine was working.

"I wasn't there because I started yesterday at noon.." he saw the pair's eyes open in worry and disbelief "This is my first break, and I got this cut last night and I'm pretty sure a concussion" he flexed his neck, it cracking soflty "Watch your backs guys."

Geoff waved and walked around the desk out of the office, sighing heavily and closing the door sharply behind him. he took a deep long exhausted breath as he rounded the corner heading to his next destination.

*****

"Stupid Stupid stupid!" Geoff was picking his arse up off the floor as two men half his size slammed into him as they tried to get through the underground, which by now, 13:23 was closed and access was prohibited but for the highest of the high and the Police.

He swore under his breath as the pair of men each carrying a couple of PS3's ran off in the direction of the waiting Louis, who Geoff had managed to hail a moment before to get in position as he saw them sliding down inbetween the smooth surface of the escalator, feet first into Geoff's face.

Brushing himself off he set off towards the pair as Louis darted around the corner and clotheslined the pair to the ground sending their loot sailing into the air in slow motion only to smack them in the head as they stood. He started to pin one to the ground in a half nelson while Geoff skidded on the floor, sending his own boots into his face jarring him backwards giving him the time he needed to pin him and get his cable ties on.

"This is Frank..." a voice garbled through his ear piece "..I need some help on platform 13..Victoria station." There was a chorus of replies over the vox but he was closest.

"Hold on brother!" Geoff was two minutes away, and stood to his feet reluctantly, keeping his knee down on the assailants neck, Louis motioned for him to go with a snarl as he pushed him off the man and grappled him down with ease. Louis was in his element.

Taking to his feet, and skidding through the damp quiet underground he passed several Policeman cordoning off some public toilets which obviously had victims to the flu inside by the bright red Biohazard warnings across them. He gave the three officers a nod of respect as he darted past, lungs and heart pumping on fumes as he stormed his way around two corners and through a checkpoint that was abandoned and out onto the equally so station.

It was a grim scene. A fight had broken out and several what could only be called Gang members were sprawled out unconscious on the floor, blood pooling from some where their faces had received a stiff blow from from what he could see was Just Frank and one of the others from earlier, Foster was his name. The Ex Ranger which he could tell as the several gang members faces covered with either hoods, masks or a bandanna and one even a gas mask and a helmet struck out at him. He wasn't in trouble. Frank was.

Geoff felt a presence behind him, it must have been one that had stirred from dizzyness as Foster hurled his makeshift weapon from the gang members at the man, it connecting with a solid thump followed by a wet crack as the men splayed against the concrete. He was still.

Geoff stepped forward to an advancing youth, his pipe swinging wildly and in repeated patterns, left right then left right again. Geoff simply ducked and uppercuted him in the Jaw. Formality went out the window when he was slashed across the face hours ago. He was enraged and hatred boiled in his blood and the prospect of these hooligans that simply didn't know when to quit was a welcome diversion.

There was a flash of a knife and the ex Ranger grunted, the blow cushioned against his stab vest but he still felt the strike from the man's fist crash across his cheek, spilling claret onto his face. Geoff was after the man he had just struck, hitting him in the stomach with a body blow and throwing him down behind him his face bouncing off the platform with a grunt. Slowly he felt something start to take over his actions, his training and common sense kicked in as he saw Frank take a flurry of blows in the chest as two of them held him while another struck.

Another one who had stepped away from Foster turned to face Geoff, but as he did so a sharp blow struck the man across the back of the neck, a blow to his kidneys, a strike to his knee and finally thrown over his hip to the post next to them face first, his nose shattering against the hard surface, he slid down with a mumble as Foster voiced his approval.

The station rumbled as more flooded in from a side entrance, this fight was starting to get dangerous and they still needed to free Frank, but in a blur a train came rumbling down the line, and seemingly in slow motion, the one with the gasmask, which looked like the leader took out a knife, slashed Frank across the throat and threw him with tremendous force straight into the oncoming behemoth of metal, glass shattering and the driver blaring his horn in sheer horror.

It took a few heartbeats for everyone to realise the gravity of the situation and how it had escalated from a skirmish to full blown murder, and Geoff blinked in sheer astonishment and shock then with rage and spite.

"My god.." Foster whimpered as he took a step back, almost ready to turn tail and run. But then he glanced in Geoff's direction and saw that he was stood, fists clenched, blood seeping from his wound and his eyes wide and angry with rage and a desire to stick that man in the same grizzly end that had befallen his comrade.

"He was two days off paternal leave..." Geoff whispered at first, his head facing the ceiling, anger welling up pumping acid hate through his veins "He was two..DAYS OFF PATERNAL!" he roared this time, seeing that Foster himself had joined alongside him, it would be those two versus the other six. And Geoff smiled as Louis screamed around the corner, hate in his eyes and himself weary from a skirmish before hand. Apparently from the look in his eyes, he had seen what had gone down in the monitor room on the way past to the brig.Louis simply cracked his knuckles and stood ready, feet spread and eyes fixed on the others. Geoff cracked his knuckles in unison with the others.

[Garfsan]

*****

He sat. He simply sat and looked at the casualty report from the day. Including Frank, which everyone was sore and pissed off about he could see through bleary and tear stained eyes that two others were killed.

Sighing heavily he saw that Decker had joined him in the staff room, which now housed three sleeping officers, two security staff and a German Shepard that had wondered in trying to escape the carnage that had erupted above in the streets asleep cosily in the corner of the room.

"Casualties continue to rise, as the riots and carnage caused thanks the flu epidemic continues to wreak devastation and mayhem throughout the greater London area. It cannot be confirmed that the military has been mobilized but early reports put the deaths into the early thousand mark, with many many more injured as the city begins to engulf itself in a bloody feud between the enraged or simply delirious citizens and the brave men and women of our Police forces.

"Earlier today we received tragic news from Victoria station as our reporter, Trish Kym was there to Interview the security Chief about the brutal murder of veteran security guard, Frank Leyman. He was a valiant and dutiful individual who fought for the safety and security of the populace who went about the use of the Underground to commute to and from their work places or simply to travel. A father to be, he was two days away from his elected paternal leave to see the new born child."

"Turn that shit off.." Louis groaned as he raised his head from his slumber

"Sources indicate that sev-" The radio was silenced and a frustrated grunt came from Decker, as Geoff looked again at the report. It was 21:32, he hadn't eaten all day, and was running on caffeine and Lucozade, in front of him was a unopened Subway, ironic that the meal he craved was where his long time work colleage was slain on.

He saw a tear drop to his sheet, and he wiped it away before the ink ran, looking up at the cieling.

I can't believe how crazy today has been, with the riots, the feuds almost between Skinheads and the Black Community. Twenty people died of the flu in this station today..twenty.. Imagine how that would have been in an office..or a street shop..Damn it all to hell.

He sighed as he flipped through the deaths of the station workers.

Welbrookes was stomped to death, his head smashed in and his brains strewn all across the platform, he had gotten there to late, and the man who had done it paid the price. Even though the fight with the six gang members had almost broken him, he still had the energy to take the bat off him and break his arm, which was an accident of course.

Kyning...was a different matter. An armed police man was mauled by some gang bangers, they stole her Glock and MP5 going on a shooting spree before finally
executing him with the last bullet as he put his life on the line for the fifty something civvies that would have been shot. Geoff cradled the man in his arms and watched his last breath escape from his body.

"Geoff.." It was Louis "Eat your sandwich man, it will make you feel better.."

He didn't answer, putting the report on the desk, he wolfed down the hot tasty snack and three mugs of tea before resting his feet on a desk, leaning back in his chair.

"No Louis" he answered finally in an emotionless state "The only thing that will make this better is if I wake up and find that this day never fucking happened..."

He growled as he stood, going to his locker and grabbing his coat. Decker stood up with protest "Geoff where the hell are you go-" before he had the chance to speak, Geoff struck him in the face, sending the older man reeling to the ground after crashing through his desk and half his paperwork.

"I'm going home..I started yesterday at noon..its now almost ten PM and I really need to do something other than stare at these goddamn walls!" he snarled as he slung his pack over his shoulder he pulled out his locker, slamming it shut.

"I'm going the pub, fuck you if you think you can stop me."

*****

Geoff was sat down in his sister's pub, with Tank the Saint Bernard across his lap, in his usual booth seat. He was the only one there tonight, as Jess started to close down the place. A couple that looked healthy enough started to walk in, and saw the form of Geoff leaning back, stroking Tank as he perched his head up watching the young couple wander in.

"Wow." one piped up " This place is dead." Geoff started the motions to speak "It's perfect" The other stated with a smile as they walked around to where Geoff sat, with a huge plate of food his brother in Law Ian had dished out. It was an all day breakfast, thrice with extra everything. Every morsel was savoured the plate almost as clean as before the food was plated up.

Geoff nodded at the young couple, they smiling at the form of Tank over his lap, and he thumped his way over and said hello, sitting wagging his massive tail as the young lass stroked his ears.

"He's epic!" she yelped as Tank licked practically half her face in one stroke "Awww he likes me!" The young lad smiled and then looked over at Geoff, he looked like hell.

His hair was matted to his skull, blood mixed with sweat and a few tears, his eyes black and ringed with fatigue, his right side of his face throbbing red with the nasty cut that had been redressed by Ian, a trauma doctor. Somehow he was not at work today. Geoff was still in his work clothes, his vest dusty with a thick layer of dirt blood and grime, his knees roughed through. The only thing that he took off was his boots which he had slumped next to his pue, his gloves on the table as his hands were raw from the days fighting.

"I apologise for my appearance folks." He said softly "I started work in the underground yesterday at noon..it's now.." he looked at his watch "Almost midnight and I got back from work an hour ago..." he trailed off lowering his head. " I mean you no harm, and I will gladly move if you need me too."

The young lady saw the sorrow in Geoff's tired eyes, the empty soulless pain that bled from them struck a chord with her. Slowly she moved up and gave him a gentle hug.

"You'll be fine Mr Riley." she whispered "After all..you survived through the apocalypse" she squeezed him again gently and moved over to where her friend had sat back down with drinks.

Well well.. I guess some people do know that story..

It was a quote that his main character Kota had said at the end of the Dead But Still Standing comic he finished after 556 issues.





"...If you can survive that then nothing can stop you..."

[Garfsan]

And yet another rp dies.

[Dvorakk]

unfortunately =\ i even messaged elmo to see if i could join.

[Nuttz]

It started off too slow, and for too long. I think that's probably why.

[Crack5800]

I'm rather upset this RP died. I put alot of work into it.