Sgt. Curtin's page

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Watch your six people! Rots downthread!

ROTS!

They're all around!

FALL BACK!

*blink*

Zombies!

Welcome back. Mind the rots, they've made a mess of things here.

Tosses an M4 over to the goggle-eyed kid

"Watch your six. Them rots are quick and nasty. Skull shots only."

Meh, triangle the OTD up if its that bad. I've done it before, and I almost did it again recently. I suggest we put a hold on this until you are home and settled in Vancouver. There's no point in half-assing it because you have many RL issues. I am going to be flat out until early Sept m'self.

Back around more. Should have some time Fri afternoon. Hope your flu is abating K

Patrick touches his flaming red cheek

"Thanks Aunt Terri. I needed that."

He looks to Dave.

"OK. Lets go. I'm point."

He starts his descent, Charlene ready.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 11

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 4

Le Sigh ..

Patrick is deafened by the explosion, jittering on spent adrenaline and experiencing a very vivid PTSD flashback to Al-Anbar Province that is melding current events into a weird mashup where the zombies are all dressed in Keffiyehs and Thawbs to his not-so-sane eyes. He looks around, but looks like he sees nothing.

"Gotta get to the firebase. We need ordinance."

He grips his hand into a weird open fist, bringing to his soot-streaked facce

"Alpha Charlie Nine this is Unit Foxtrot Six. Alpha Charlie Nine do you read, over?"

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 7

Patrick, distracted by Sam's unwillingness to run and Dave's shouts, misses Mike's bomb setting. He gives up on Sam and runs north just as the bomb explodes. The shockwave triggers his PTSD hardcore. The ringing in his ears becomes a muzzein's wail. The bits of debris pattering around him look trapped in slow motion as he strains to move forward.

"Goodbye sober days." He thinks, giggling inside as all sounds fade into the ringing.

Then you're in for a treat. Just heading out to the Canadian cosulate. Have to get a new passport. All my crap was stolen last Thursday, didn't figure it out until Saturday morning.

Anyone else care to indicate which way they want to run?

Super bummer indeed =(

Patrick grabs at Sam

"We aint got time to play CSI Sam! Time to get the fnck outta here. I can't chop them all!"

So, just up the stairs is the only way out right? If so, Sarge is going to head up and out.

Patrick heads for the stairs, Charlene at the ready, still caked with Ultra zombie ichor

*yawn* Good mornin'. Can I see Walker Z?

Patrick swings at one of the grappling zombies

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

2d6 + 5 ⇒ (3, 1) + 5 = 9

Patrick takes another shot

1d20 + 6 - 4 ⇒ (20) + 6 - 4 = 22

3d6 ⇒ (5, 5, 3) = 13

CRIT CONFIRM! 1d20 + 6 - 4 ⇒ (4) + 6 - 4 = 6

3d6 ⇒ (1, 4, 2) = 7 ..Boo

"My love for you is like a truck, Berzerker!" He screams, laughing like a loon.

>Reminds me of this<

Patrick stands by Dave and takes in the abhorrent scene. He sees Dave's intent to throw the flash bang and averts his eyes.

"C'mon, let's go! Whatever the fnck those things are, we can't fight them! We gotta keep moving up!"

Patrick Looks for a way to bar the stairway once they enter

K(Tactics): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

Due to work and personal concerns, I don't know how timely my posts will be until the weekend. If needs be, GMPC the sarge as needed.

Crip one long-ass early morning shift and another 21 posts? Kay, not much time, but lets roll

Patrick hears the 'oh fnck' from Dave just as he was going to suggest heading for the roof. He whirls, Charlene ready.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 13

Assuming he doesn't need much Perception to see something bad is hauling ass towards them ..

"Ahh sweet Christ, People! up the stairs! Now! "

Patrick remembers the flash grenades =P and hurreidly digs them out.

"We gotta barracade ourselves on the roof. It's the only chokepoint we have, maybe a chopper will rescue us. These grenades might slow the Z's. I'll stay back and toss them."

Your move Dr. K...

GAH! 22 posts and me out the door @230 am local time! Here's a few rolls

K(tactics)/Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

1d20 ⇒ 1

LOL

Patrick is distrcted by the annoying song song stuck in his head.

Sorry busy weekend

"Lets do this. I vote stair. I'll get point if Sam will back me"

The doctor ducks back into the room and brings out a bottle of alcohol, and douses Patrick's hands and a few gore streaks on his legs.

He and Aunt Terri are both wearing hospital clothes and surgical masks. They squint at the sunshine filtering in from the outer rooms.

Congratulations, guys, you now have two innocents to worry about. I mean come on, they're far more valuable to me alive....

[Kyle]You Bastard![/Kyle]

"Hi there. Are you sure it's safe out here? The sounds we've heard son. Oh my God. The sounds we've heard. We've been drinking dextrose and rehydration salts for the last four days. Is it safe?"

Sarge hugs Aunt Terri and nods to the doctor.

"I'm sorry to say it is anything BUT safe. However, if we can get out of here perhaps we can get to a safe place. You two can't stay here forever drinking dextrose."

"Aunt Terri! We made it. Can you open the door? I have a group here."

Sarge feels a wave of relief.

cue the >background music< LOL

Sarge listens to the good advice

"OK. I'll try knocking."

He walks back to the door and raps thrice softly

"Aunt Terri? Are you in there? Aunt Terri? It's Patrick." He says, trying to cup his hands at the door to make the sound focus into it. He repeats it thrice, or until someone answers.

Someone has a crowbar? Yes?

Patrick backs off and whispers

"I don't really want to, but I have to see what happened to my aunt. We need to crowbar the door as quiet as possible. One person to crowbar, all the rest waiting for whatever pops out, kay?"

With that, I'm off to work. I'll try to follow along on my iBorg

Patrick gestures to the others to be quiet. He points at the door and mimes opening it. He makes sure everyone is prepared, and he tries the knob, balancing Charlene with one hand.

Here we go. If door is unlocked Sarge will open it wide. If not, he will back off after rattling the knob to see if anything slams into the door

The sound of helicopters fills Patrick with a faint bloom of hope.

At least someone else is surviving the total cockup He thinks to himself

Trying to calm himself, Patrick leans over to listen at the door

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 15

Man I gotta rework my skills

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 5

Patrick advances, as quietly as he can Stealth1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

He see's Aunt Terri's room and his pulse accelerates. He moves quietly, alert to any sound

Cord looks at Pat, his eyes blazing as he is pumped up on adrenaline. "what the fook are you doing? One bite! One bit of blood in an eye or mouth and you could be one of them!" he shakes as the battle nerves start to fade and the realization of how close some of them came to being bitten sinks in. He shakes his head and then loosens the grip on the axe, "if any of them look like doctors or nurses, check them for pass keys." He starts using the hooked end of the axe to turn over the bodies, grimly expecting a familiar face to be staring back out at him at any moment before he beheads any that are still moving.

Patrick turns, breathing heavy, his sword still raised. His face darkens as Cord berates him.

"Yes, and running from them is so much better of an idea! You think these are the only rots running around? You want to run from one batch and pile into another? Face it, Cord, all it's going to take is one misstep, one hidden Z, and we are infected. Running around this zombie playground willy-nilly like a bunch of scared chickensh!ts will get us killed just as fast as standing up and fighting."

He wipes Charlene on the clothing of the hacked zombies.

"Fnck it. I'm going to go see if my aunt is still alive."

Patrick heads towards the room, Charlene at the ready.

Don't miss the edit above, Sarge. AoO!

I'm on it, doggone it ..

Patrick smells the wave of rotted meat and dried feces from the zombie attempting to clumsily grab him. He swings Charlene in a downward slice

1d20 + 13 - 4 ⇒ (4) + 13 - 4 = 13

1d10 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

Sgt. Curtin wrote:

Patrick tees up on the next rot

And of its skull only a red ruin remains.

Whee! My first iPhone turn! Schwing!

Sam and Sarge (who is too busy blinking) should attack.

ack! Didn't realize it was my go. I'll down the H2 full hit

Patrick tees up on the next rot

1d20 + 13 - 4 ⇒ (15) + 13 - 4 = 24

1d10 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15

Kruelaid wrote:

Mike O'Neill wrote:

For Mike's next action, have him take a couple steps back, shove the knife in his belt, and pull a couple of guns. Or something.

Let's take a vote. Who wants DMPC O'Neill to start shooting the place up?

Hell no.

But Mike’s shown enough signs of instability that he might just do it if things get desperate, or he gets impatient.

Yeah the whole point of my doing this was to kill the Zs QUIETLY. We don't need the entire Z posse downstairs hearing the dinner bell rung.

AoO: 1d20 + 13 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 13 - 4 = 22

1d10 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

Patrick's blade meets the looming zombie, its edge dripping in rotted black gore

The limp Canucks-jersey-clad body collapses and tumbles a few more feet.

LOL

Patrick spits

"That's for beating us in that Stanley Cup series!"

Patrick takes another swing at a zombie I4 within range

Sword 'headshot': 1d20 + 13 - 4 ⇒ (12) + 13 - 4 = 21

1d10 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

Patrick snarls

"You try to bury me, I'm still alive ..."

Patrick plants himself and readies his sword. He yells behind his shoulder.

"There's nowhere to run guys, back me up!"

The snarling zombies turn the corner and Patrick's fevered brain fires up a Rob Zombie remixed song. He mutters under his breath.

"That's it you motherfnckers, come and try for a bite. Better to eat white arsenic than monkeymeat ..."

He swings at the first one, aiming for the neck ..

+5 atk/dam, right? =D

Sword 'headshot': 1d20 + 13 - 4 ⇒ (4) + 13 - 4 = 13

1d10 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11

Blerg ..

Actually just did most of it *sheepish grin* I just gotta tweak the skills to PF. All combat stuff should be ready ...

Sam takes the right hand side of the corridor, keeping pace with Dave as they head north. She points at Pat to follow closely behind and for Cord to hang back and protect the rear with Mike, keeping Anna and Wasabi in the centre of the group.

Patrick keeps close, sword at the ready. His chainmail is heavy on his shoulders

Hoping to have a bit of time to update the ol' Sarge. Just finding it is tuff. Friday I should have some time, so I will Pathfinderize and level up.

Sam:** spoiler omitted **

The valves in Sam's mask speed up, the glass fogs a little.

Oh those masks were such a b!tch. Nice atmospheric touch. =)

Patrick follows Sam, gripping his sword tightly.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 7

Yeah, I think Perception is getting some love when I level up :/

Marching order: Sam, Sarge, Johnnie, Cord, Anna, Mike, Judd. Judd will stay behind on ground level until everyone else is up to the 4th floor.

I assume that Judd will procede upstairs when he hears them entering the 4th floor--unless zombie start pouring into the stairwell, in which case he will begin moving before that.

Sounds like a plan

Patrick unsheathes his greatsword and follows after Sam up the stairway. He pauses to clap Judd on the shoulder softly

"Luck. Don't get foolish, run if you have to." He whispers

Sarge whispers to the others ...

"I've been thinking .."

Read my spoiler

"...so what I think is this. We want to get up into the hospital, but there is likely zombies in the stairwell. We can probably move fairly quiety with the clamor down there, but we need someone to hang back and throw a few flashbangs to cover us. Cord has the silenced weapons, whoever goes on point up the stairwell should take them so if they run into something they can shoot without fear. I have my sword, I can run second. I think Sam should be point. Anyone want to volunteer for rearguard, zombie delayer?"

. Patrick enters the stairwell, looking for some way of getting the door wedged shut

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 18

Knowledge (tactics): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

As Patrick runs an old friend comes unbidden into his mind..

Make his fight on the hill in the early day
Constant chill deep inside
Shouting gun, on they run through the endless gray ...

Can we link a movie younger than the actual game? I guess we are in the 'constant now' LOL

Patrick stands his ground, hoping to slow the abberation long enough for them to fly the scene

Trying same thing again.

1d20 + 5 + 1 + 1 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 5 + 1 + 1 - 2 - 4 = 14

3d6 ⇒ (3, 2, 3) = 8

After firing Patrick yells, "MOVE!!"

He starts running off

Did we go up a level? I have to get that fixed :/

Patrick instinctively brings his MP5 up as the door explodes open, hitting Sam. A ghost of a voice screaming MOVE ! MOVE! and the phantom smells of frying meat and hard desert-dweller BO dance across his mind as time slows.

His gun rises, oh so slowly, as Samantha slides in slomo on the filthy concrete floor. The flashlights' jerky beams dance over the steroidal monstrosity awaiting them in the morgue. The thing roars and Patrick's time sense returns to full speed. He prays to a god he fears has taken his ball and gone home. His finger finally twitches against the trigger...

OK time for some MP5 Point Blank-Double Tap-Headshot Love

1d20 + 5 + 1 + 1 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (17) + 5 + 1 + 1 - 2 - 4 = 18

3d6 ⇒ (4, 3, 4) = 11

Hollee crap! I'll post something up tomorrow, gotta fly, didn't know this was back up *OHHHHHHH YEAH*

Hmm scary thought ...Zombie Macho Man .."

LOCK AND LOAD!!

"Everyone just keeps getting all quiet..."

Patrick inhales the last bit of his smoke and flicks the coal into the darkness of the hallway

"Well bro, we're stuck here for now."

I had a zombie dream recently (I usually have them when I am under some sort of stress) where I was trying to carve my way through a wall of them at my house with a shotgun. Pretty graphic

Sgt. Curtin wrote:

"And that's not even taking Ciudad Juarez into consideration.."

"That's Mexico, right?"

Patrick inhales deeply and blows the grey smoke up into the pipes snaking their way above the tunnel's ceiling

"Yeah. About 1.5 million folks there last I knew. Virtual anarchy with the drug cartels running the show. One of the biggest crossover points for illegals and drug smugglers from all over Mexico and points south. Entire suburbs callled colonia made out of wood pallets, tin cans and bailing wire. Once Z-Day hit, I imagine the rots overwhelmed the place in two days, tops."

Sgt. Curtin wrote:

"Yeah. My battle budddies would have been put on urban riot duty I'm guessing. I don't even want to think how Juarez and El Paso went through this mess."

"My guess is that they, you know, didn't."

Patrick looks askance at the shabby drifter

"Yeah, I kinda understand that. But you take a city stuffed with gangs, guns, drugs and millions of off-the-grid people, add a pandemic of zombies and I'm guessing it's pretty ugly there at the moment."

Pauses and lights up a Marlboro Light

"And that's not even taking Ciudad Juarez into consideration.."