Black Thoughts

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Black Thoughts

Postby Andrew Burgess » Fri Jun 18, 2010 5:14 pm

In previous games I’ve written up collections of clichés some people have been kind enough to call stories, documenting my part in the game. This game, I won’t have a whole lot of time, so, here’s the plan: I’m feeling lazy and don’t want to work on my honours right now, so I’m going to write up an intro/backstory/mythology bit. If people feel like it, add to this thread writing up a character or story line. All together it should (maybe?) make for an epic tale of the zombie apocalypse. I suppose we should try not to blatantly contradict one another, but don’t feel too forced by other peoples stories. If we keep it first person, contradictions can get put down to perspective. Eventually this thread will be moved to a public forum for others to see. For the purpose of not breaking the flow, comments about how good/bad/lame this all is should get stuck in a separate thread. Basically, have fun with it.
(For reasons that will make sense to those who know me/my playing style and the purpose of this squad, my character won’t go up for awhile, letting a few others in first)
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When first the zombies reached our shores, there was panic. Ordinary day to day life came to a grinding halt in the face of the doom prophesised by the media, and those who could fled. Those who couldn’t or wouldn’t run hid instead. In the ruins of a cafe on the ANU campus, a motley crew of the lost and forsaken banded together for mutual protection. But as the virus spread, they grew evermore paranoid of infection, not even trusting each other. They became known to the other survivors as the Paranoia in Pajenkas squad, and became legends amongst the Resistance.

After the first breakout was contained, the PiP turned professional, running extensive recruiting and training programs, still expecting a return of the Horde. In the summer of 2010, the zombie virus was again released, and the PiP Company was proven right. They lead a massive rearguard action against the spreading virus, but in the end only managed to slow it down. Eventually, the military gave up on controlling the breakout, and ordered an airstrike. Most of the Company were unable to reach the bunkers in time, and PiP was decimated. It took prolonged and sustained napalm bombing of the infected region to destroy the infected zombies, but scientist have warned that this has only destroyed the carriers. The virus itself is virtually indestructible, and the whole region was deemed a quarantine zone.

In the aftermath, the survivors factionalised into several teams. Most of the original squad became PiP: Red, a name that had become synonymous with professionalism and dedication. The more militant members became PiP: Orange, who blamed the Military for the tragedy. Those who lost faith in the war, and particularly in empty glory, deserted to become PiP: Blackcoats.

Some may call us deserters, and technically maybe we are. But deserters from authority, and the pursuit of empty glory, not from the war. We still stand with the resistance to hold back the Zombie Horde. We just don’t intend on dying in the process. When the others strut around, boasting and proud, we just quietly slip away, into the shadows.

We shall be watching.
Last edited by Andrew Burgess on Wed Jul 28, 2010 9:53 am, edited 1 time in total.
This game is HARD

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Andrew Burgess
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Posts: 412
Full Name: Andrew Burgess
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Student Number: 4309631
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Overall Survival Time: 265
Survival Time: 0
Kills: 0
Medals: 3
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Re: Story Thread

Postby Andrew Burgess » Sat Jul 24, 2010 4:14 pm

so much for waiting for others. more will be up after the midnight mission. unless i'm dead....

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As I lay behind a low wall near the old Psychology department, I looked up into the dusk sky. It was a clear blue, just starting to deepen into darkness. The frost would be an inch thick by morning. I rolled onto my side and pulled out a packet of gum, unwrapped myself a piece, and offered one to Ben, who was crouched behind the same wall about a couple of meters along. He just glared at me, so I shrugged and put it away.

“Think they’re still there?” He asked idly.

“Dunno. Take a look.”

“You take a look.”

“No you... know what, stuff it.” I shuffled closer to the wall, and then peeked over the top and pulled back down as quickly as I could. I didn’t really have a chance to see anything, but I didn’t have to. No sooner than I was safely below the wall, shots slammed into the far side of it and over my head.

“I take it that’s a yes” Ben drawled. I just grunted in reply.

This sort of thing was happening more and more lately. We knew the risks when we deserted our Company, but at the time they seemed less than the risks of staying with them. I pulled out my remaining ammo, and one by one reloaded my Maverick. A much maligned weapon, but easily concealable. As I did so, I glanced at my watch. Ten past five.

“They’re late.” I said, rather unnecessarily. Just then, we heard shots being fired from further down the avenue, and a return volley from our attackers, who were much closer. Without another word between us, we rose up and started firing at our attackers. Under the heavy crossfire, they were forced to retreat, with one of them heavily wounded.

Ben and I hurried over to our rescuers, Erin and four of the rest of our squad. I say ‘squad’ because we look out for each other, and we’re armed, but that’s about as military as we get. Realistically, we’re just a bunch of misfits and renegades, depending on one another because most others would shoot us on sight. Erin is our leader by dint of being the only one who could organise anything more complex than a bake sale. As for the rest of us, sometimes we even do what we’re told.

“Glad you could find time in your busy schedules to fit a little rescue in...” I started as we reached them. But none of them rose to it, and just hurried us along.

“They’re keeping the bridge under guard now. We had to make a detour.” Erin replied. “Those guys are going to call for backup, so I suggest you stop whining and come on.” I had to agree on that one, though I normally don’t like hiding. We’d been doing a lot of that lately, and looks like it’s going to continue.
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Andrew Burgess
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Posts: 412
Full Name: Andrew Burgess
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Student Number: 4309631
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Overall Survival Time: 265
Survival Time: 0
Kills: 0
Medals: 3
Winning Squad (1) Runner Up Squad (1) Survivor (1)

Re: Story Thread

Postby Andrew Burgess » Mon Jul 26, 2010 9:09 am

I was out with a few of the others on a scavenging mission, when we heard a distant scream. As one, we turned and ran towards its origin. Over the last few weeks there had been reports of muggings and assaults, and the community was getting concerned. Now we had a chance to catch the perpetrators in the act. Though we had deserted our Company, that didn’t mean we had abandoned our people. We continued to try to help, even if they didn’t really want us to anymore. Besides, stealing from thieves was much easier to justify than robbing military supplies, and a lot easier. But suddenly the screaming was cut off, and we realised we were going to be too late.

Ahead of me, Sam rounded the corner and came onto Union Court. Before I could catch up, he was backing away towards us again. We came to a halt, still behind the corner.

“What can you see?” I whispered hoarsely to him.

“Blood. Lots of Blood.” And he hadn’t lied. As we inched around the corner, we saw it, spread out in a shallow pool across the pavement and sprayed across the wall. With hand gestures, I gave orders to spread out, cover the area. It was only when the area was secured and I had time to think that the implications of what I was seeing dawned on me. I should have known immediately, I had seen it before, though I had hoped never to see it again. While there was blood everywhere, far more than anyone could have lost and still survive, there wasn’t any corpse. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Shit... we need to get out of here, right now. Run!” They kept asking what was happening, why four heavily armed ex-soldiers had to run away. Most of them were new, so they hadn’t been there. They just didn’t know what Hell they’d landed into.

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


A year ago, I was just another student. Go to lectures, work on assignments, study for exams. That was basically my life. And then the impossible: a virus released from some secure experimental facility, exactly how is still the subject of an ongoing inquiry. A virus that reanimated dead bodies, and spread by biting. It sounded insane, ludicrous. I’d never have believed if I hadn’t seen it for myself. But I was there, and saw it. Zombies stalking the campus, chasing us down, eating people’s brains. Everything changed then: the collapse of the old government, the rise of the Military State with its’ shadowy, secretive leaders, the total lack of an economy. And it’s personal too.

When it all started, I and some friends banded together for protection. We became known as Paranoia in Pajenkas, or PiP. Over the last year, and with the fall of the old government and the rise of the new Military State, we grew from a disorganised bunch of survivors into the largest official militia in the Resistance. As the squad grew, so did my responsibilities. At the peak of the PiP, I was Red Team leader, the heavy infantry team. But then there were changes: new uniform, new leader, massive cutbacks. But the responsibilities and expectations for the squad kept increasing, drawing us ever thinner. In the end, Erin, a few other veterans and I were assigned to deal with one of the food riots that had been cropping up ever since the fall of the old government. We were massively outnumbered, and tired, and to be honest we just felt we had more in common with the rioters than with our superiors. So, we simply ditched the uniforms, broke radio contact, and disappeared into the night.

Understandably, they Military were somewhat unimpressed, and for awhile they even put a price on our heads. But they have more important things to worry about than little old us, and have probably forgotten about us entirely. They’ve forgotten about enough other innocents, abandoning them to poverty and starvation.

But none of that even matters now. Now, they’re back. We have to do it all again. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll fight as long as I can still stand, but if these things can stand being shot, burnt, blown up and everything else we threw at them last time, well, we’ll be lucky to survive a week. And this time I reckon we’ve all run out of luck.
This game is HARD

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Andrew Burgess
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Posts: 412
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Survival Time: 0
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Winning Squad (1) Runner Up Squad (1) Survivor (1)

Re: Story Thread

Postby Andrew Burgess » Wed Jul 28, 2010 12:20 am

(I'm tired, and trying to cover two days of activity. sorry about the horrible switching of styles etc, but meh. also, going to ask to have this thread moved to tales of war)

A strange couple of days. I like to think I have an open mind, but their are limits. Up untill yesterday, vodoo was well beyond it. But when push comes to shove, and shoves don't come much bigger than armegeddon, you just run with whatever works. So yesterday I, an educated man, a physics student, a scientist, spent the afternoon scrabbling in the bushes searching for magic herbs, and going to mysic rituals. Oh, and shooting zombies. Sometimes, you just gotta go with the flow and take it on faith.

While engaged in such an ignomious activity, we were surprised by a PiP patrol. We were unprepared, and they had the advantage. But they didn't attack. The PiP Captain, Kevin, was with them, and came over to talk with us. As he approached, he held his weapon pointing at the sky, an offer of truce.

"We've been looking for you." He told us. Yeah, we noticed. He continued, "Look, we all know things don't look good here. Not good at all. We don't need to be worrying about you too, and I know you don't want us gunning for you either. So, how about we call a truce?"

I was a little surprised, but pretty relived as well. A truce could even one day be extended to a pardon, and possibly even a reinstatement. But It wasn't my call. When you've deserted your old Company, honour and respect are hard to come by. Amonsgt our merry band of runaways, only Erin had gained enough of either to speak for us all. She seemed nervous of trusting them, but then again, what choice did we have? She agreed, and so we became an unofficial militia again. Still running, hiding, and scavenging, but at least we don't get shot at anymore.


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


Despite all our best efforts, the horde continues to grow. We've enlisted vodoo women, inethical scientists, foreign traders, anyone and anything. Hell, we've allied with people who were shooting us yesterday, still no impact on the zombie horde. Overnight, apparently our situation became too much for many: a spate of suicides, even amonst the command core of the strongest squads. Certainly makes it harder for the rest of us. Us. It feels good to be able to think of myself as being backed up by others again.

It's amazing the pull that PiP has on the militia. Once they start to treat us as allies, all the others swing into line, without any question. Then again, we're all in this together now. The quarenteen zone has been locked down, and we can't leave. We all need to rely on one a nother now, so past battles are put aside.

At some point in the day, the vodoo lady betrayed us, and the zombies became stronger than ever. Any attempts to threaten her failed miserably, if anything just making things worse. The scientist promised that if we found the vodoo lady's book of spells she would be able to help us. A rumour spread that the french shop keeper knew the location, so we went to see him.

Now, I'm about as capitalistic as any broken uni student can be, so I admire on principle anyone who treats the apocalypse as a business oppurtunity. Le Keepeur de shope is one such. When faced with the possibility of terrible zombie death, he still demanded we pay for the information of the whereabouts of the book. We blackcoats pooled all our resources, but we still couldn't meet the price demanded. We needed to call on the much greater financial resources of the PiP and Global Warming squads, after which he pointed us to a spot a few hundred meters away, by the bank of the creek.

But even with the book, we were unable to drive back the horde. Erin, I and other squad leaders were summoned to a council of war with Kevin, to discuss our plans. We decided, reluctantly, that we needed the vodoo lady's help. So, this evening, we gathered various items to give as offerings to her, and to beg for her help. Each squad leader brought different items by different routes, leaving the bulk of the militia leaderless. It was left to me, as the only one who knew everything that was happening, to bring the mass of reinforcements to the meeting point. As we headed out, we drew the attention of the horde, who constantly harassed us. My own life was saved several times by those around me. I smiled as I reflected, only the other day they were trying to kill me, now they risk their lives to protect me.

When we finally reached her, the vodoo lady was pleased by all the items we brought her.

"You have done well. With these items, I will be able to preform a rite to reduce the zombies' strength." We were instantly relieved, but it was to be short lived. "However, to preform this rite, I shall need a Champion. One of you must remain here to assist me. The zombies will try to stop us, and it will be very dangerous. I won't be able to protect you while I preform the ritual. But the rest of you cannot stay here. The rest must leave. Only the Champion can assist, so choose one who can hold all the zombies at bay."

An impossible choice, but not really a choice at all. To sacrifice one of our own, or to let the Zombies grow ever stronger and eventually kill us all. I was sickened, not just at what was demanded of us, but of the choice we would have to make: who to sacrifce. But before we could, one man steped forward through the ranks. I recognised him as Antony, one of PiP's Heavies. A true Champion, we couldn't have picked better. None of us spoke. What was there to say? With our heads hung in shame, we moved out. Not long after, we heard the sounds of the Horde behind us. Some hesitated, clearly thinking of going back to help, but we carried on.

I've seen many terrible things since the first outbreak, watched friends die, brothers in arms ripped away. And in my dreams I see it all again. But I dread that from now on I'll wake to this memory, of voluntarily sacrificing someone to the horde. Actually, that's a laugh: I doubt I'll be that lucky.

I'll never get to sleep at all.
This game is HARD

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Andrew Burgess
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Posts: 412
Full Name: Andrew Burgess
Membership Type: Full Member
Student Number: 4309631
Overall Kills: 0
Overall Survival Time: 265
Survival Time: 0
Kills: 0
Medals: 3
Winning Squad (1) Runner Up Squad (1) Survivor (1)

Re: Black Thoughts

Postby chrismelba » Tue Nov 02, 2010 2:59 pm

I know the game was like ages ago, but I've only just read this. I like Burgos posts :)
Andrew Burgess wrote:Chris is being weird and has a stranglehold on this game.

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