Random Roleplays discussion

((Please read the summary section and create a character first))

Jarvis sat atop the building, staring off over the horizon. How normal it looked, but empty, considering it was a big city. There was movement scattered around, but it wasn't focusing on trying to eat him, so Jarvis decided that it was unimportant.

Jarvis spodded something on the ground. It loked human and seemed an awful lot more alive and self-aware than a zombie. He stood and stretched his arms above his head, yelling "SUUUURRVIVOOOOOOOOR!"
Jarvis turned and hopped off the building, catching himself on a ledge and falling a slightly shorter distance to the ground. He turned and trotted towards the survivor, grinning like a maniac under his mask. "Helluuuuuuuuu! Sanity!"

Jarvis reflexively flipped his hand over, grabbing Nica's wrist and dislodging her hand. He quickly let go and took a knife out of his coat. "I mean you no harm, but unless you want to keep it that way, do not do that." He huffed, the breath magnified. "The shot came from over there. I'm willing to bet that hesheit went into that store there… Can't still be there though, that place is completely contaminated." He leaned against a building. Stable. Jarvis climbed onto a dumpster, crushing the head of a zombie hiding inside. He jumped and caught the roof of the building, hauling himself up, and looked around. He saw someone wearing a jacket and looking around. "Ah. There you are."

Hunter and Lily crouched outside a shed, Lily froze hearing voices from inside.

Jarvis sighed. "This 'weirdo' gas mask is keeping me alive. I'm not breathing anything bad in. Also, I climb buildings, hide underground, stock up on un-perishable food, and I don't shoot zombies. I cut them up, which is much more effective. And why would there be a logical reason for calling for Mummy? Mummy's been dead for years, what would be the point? Also, did you know that zombies hate low musical notes? I've learned that from playing an open E string on a string bass that it messes them up. They become more uncoordinated than usual. It's almost funny." As he was saying this, Jarvis had started pacing across the rooftops. His coat fluttered behind him in a feeble attempt to appear majestic.

"It's called logic. Mad logic, but logic. Have you never experimented? Have you never thought that zombies can't climb or figure things out, so therefore, if you made the entrance to your basecamp-ish place, say, the top of an apartment building, with all entrances blocked except one window that is only accessible by strategically placed pegs, and then had a locked, reinforced hidden door that lead straight to the basement, you would be almost completely safe?" He twisted his head to the side, looking and Nica inquisitively. "I may act stupid, but believe me, I am not. I simply have a terrible sense of humor."

Jarvis heard shouting. More people falling apart. So self-centered. Then again, you had to be to survive. Not that that meant shouting and yelling about it, as that would be a zombie magnet. Jarvis stooped and took a loose piece off of the roof he was currently standing on and threw it. "Keeeeep it dooooown!" he snapped. As soon as it had started to get dark, his temper and happy attitude had worn very thin, and two rather whiny, loud people comparing the suckishness of their life wasn't helping. His scars would trump theirs. Ha.

((Jarvis is a whiny hypocrite. Excuse his whiny, hypocritical behavior.))

Jarvis trotted off the rooftop and turned to face the shed. It wan't safe. Couldn't be. And yet these people, despite being horribly self-obsessed and evidently quite uneducated on ZSP (zombie safety procedures), were still alive. How? He laughed sharply and then attempted clapping a hand over his mouth, which slammed painfully into his mask. "Ow."
Jarvis turned back and glared at the shed. "You stupid outhouse. You shoddy excuse for shelter. You heap of scrap metal. Call yourself a shed? This is unacceptable! Times have changed, haven't they…  Now people are desperate enough to accept you, you, as feeble protection against the undead. Cruel, cruel… Evil, evil creature. You just love to see people die under your watch, don't you?" He snarled and punched the shed, creating a resounding clang before realizing what he was doing. "Damn!" He turned, trying to decide where to go, panic clouding his brain. Huh. It had been a while since that happened.

Jarvis stepped back, his hand twitching and resisting the urge to grab his knives and walk away pretending this never happened. "I'm sorry," he said quickly before pivoting and slashing a nearby zombie diagonally in half, stomping on it's head. He turned back to face the people. "I am so, so sorry…"

Jarvis stood a little straighter. "My name is Jarvis Maxwell. I hit your shed and blew what little cover you had."

"…Yes. Yes I am. Unless this is a dream."

Jarvis shifted a little, relieved that they couldn't see how his eyes were moving frantically. "…Maybe. In my defense, I hadn't seen another human in over a year and I could actually breathe this year, so I'd been wanting to yell something for a year because singing just doesn't cut it sometimes."

Jarvis squinted through his mask, attempting an "are you stupid" look. "Uh… Hello. Wake up. This is the apocalypse, a never-ending attack. It doen't matter what you do, but somethings going to attack, whether you like it or not. It doesn't matter what someone does to speed up or slow down the process. Maybe I wasn't the reason you were attacked. It was coincidence, maybe. You never know." He whipped his head towards Cody. "What're you looking at?"

Jarvis laughed a little. "really."

"Oh, save your energy. You're gonna need it in a place like this… The walls are so thin that I shook it when I hit it. A zombie could smell you two from a mile away."

Jarvis walked to the zombie. "Someone you know?"

Jarvis laughed again. "Liar. Why would you be staying here if it wasn't? You would have found a much more secure place a long time ago, unless you were desperate. Furthermore, why would you have kept the body here? That's incredibly dangerous; it could wake up at any time."

"How do you know?"

Jarvis gritted his teeth. He had no patience for whiny, short answers coming from someone who thought his life was the worst thing in the world. He whipped around and snapped, "BECAUSE WHAT?" He almost pulled his gas mask off. No. He wouldn't be that gullible, that weak.

Jarvis turned and hissed at Alice. "That's fricking adorable," he snapped, taking his hat off. His hair temporarily ruined the moment by sticking up in insane, possibly deadly spikes. "Of course, your method for killing zombies is the only, the best. Have you ever thought that burning the things into ashes could be ten times more effective? Furthermore, if comes with the added bonus of more dead zombies and humans too! This is fantastic because those humans will someday be climbing inside your house and trying to eat you!" He turned back to Cody. "I know you're not mute! I heard you screaming about how much your life sucked not half an hour ago! Hilarious! I watched part of my family die too, so there's something in common! You know what I think: I think everyone should stop whining because this is the apocalypse. Everyone here probably watched their family die one way or another. You're. Not. Special."

((ARGABLARGAPHAGABLOOORRRRCHHH sorry it took so long to post. Stuff got in the way like sleep and school and stuff.))

Jarvis took off his mask. He glared with gray/green/slightly polluted lake-colored eyes down his nose at Alice. "Do I look like I'm bottling my emotions up?" He turned his head and continued looking at her with his eyes wide, looking not unlike a type of bird. Several scars ran across his thin face, almost completing a look of complete and utter insanity. His wide, maniacal grin wasn't helping. "I never said that venting wasn't okay. It's the whining and self-pity that most people find very… Self-centered. Not that that means you can't bitch a little, but just no— Well, crap, I'm just contradicting myself, aren't I? Screw emotions. Emotions suck. Live long and…  Kill zombies. Use preferable method— Chop up one, shoot two twice, burn more. And what do we do with zombies? Burn them!"

((Did I really just put a Monty Python reference in there? And a Star Trek reference?))

"Aw, I'm the one who's a child. Oh, crap…" He coughed, picking up his mask and putting it in his pocked along with his hat. "That's not safe, not safe at all…" He backed up and into the wall, still coughing. "Uhh… Been a while since I breathed pure air for stretches of time and talked at the same time…" He covered his nose and mouth with his scarf.

((Crap. Edity-edit tiiime))

((Edit: The edit has been edited))


((edit))

Jarvis laughed and started coughing again. "Cite valid proof that you are not also an idiot, and—" He broke off, clearing his throat "—you will be allowed to continue your haughty manner. Until then, however, I am going to have to request that you… Stop talking." He coughed. "Now."

Jarvis sat against the wall and buried his head in his arms. The heat from the fire was making his eyes sting and water.

Jarvis heard a thump. His head jerked off his arms and he bounced to his feet, pacing over to Cody. He crouched and looked at him, shaking his head. "Dehydration. Of course."

((It is dehydration, right? :/))

((Ooh, I fainted from stress once! My face went numb. .__.))

Jarvis wasn't exactly sure about how to wake Cody up, so he decided to take his usual route of being incredibly annoying. "Hey. You. Wake up. If you don't, you will die of dehydration and I can't pour water in your mouth because you might choke and die and I would have all this guilt and crap so let's just not go through this so wake up."

((Frick, what just happened. Goodreads said there was one post. ONE.))

Jarvis stood up, realizing that he had a headache. He reached into one of his deeper pockets and pulled out at water bottle. He drank from it quickly and then coughed again. Jarvis looked around, grinned, and climbed back on the shed.

"Live briefly and fail," Jarvis muttered under his breath before starting to sprint across the rooftops.

((FYI: I'm sick and dizzy and weird right now, so pardon me if this post makes no sense whatsoever.))

Jarvis kept sprinting until he reached a tall building. All the windows were blocked off except one on the back side of the building. He found some large pegs nailed into the sked of the building and grabbed them, pulling himself up and around, where there was a large ladder made of the same pegs. He climbed into the top window ad fell on his face, exhausted.

((… Wolfy… ¬__¬))

Jarvis woke up to find a large, pink nose in his face. "oh, good frickin' morning, Lilly," he muttered, shoving the nose away. It came back with a snort, depositing a drop of drool/mucus/stuff on his face. Jarvis made a gagging sound and sat up. Not realizing where his face was going, he hit the head that happened to be attached to the nose. The head belonged to a large, black shire horse named Lilly. This horse named Lilly was not amused. She tossed her head out of the way. Jarvis fell off of of the shelf that he usually spend a lot of time on. He didn't necessarily sleep on it, but if he was tired, he did, as there was no one else to go. "Ouch." He waved his hand toward a metal door in the wall opposite him. "Go outside or something." Lilly ment and sniffed him before trotting to the door and shoving her way into a tunnel.

((Reference for Lilly))

((Almost two days have gone by… And someone posts! CELEBRAAAATE))

Lilly paced up the tunned and through another door into the sunlight. She breathed in, filling her huge lungs with real, pure air, the wind brushing through her mane and tail and majestically lifting the white feathers on her legs… And promptly bit the head off of the zombie in front of her. She crushed the head in her molars and suddenly dropped it as the taste of whatever she was eating actually hit her tongue. Lilly coughed until Wolfie remembered that horses have no gag reflex and then broke the fourth wall.

Lilly heard a distant sound. It sounded like a small, quiet clang of something on metal. She also smelled a dog. She put a hoof forward. It was just a dog. Lilly could take a dog.

Lilly's ears pinned as she heard a dog bark, but she kept moving.

Lilly sped up, going at a fast trot. She found the dog soon enough, nearly trotting into a nearby shed. There were people, too, but she ignored them, staring at the dog. Lilly pinned her ears, still concentrating on it, and snorted.

Lilly awkwardly backed away, staring down at the human.

Lilly was surprised at this. She didn't know this human and couldn't properly see him as he was right in front of her. She tossed her head away, pinning her ears again.

Scraps walked silently down the street. Her bare feet muffled her footstep. She looked around calmly, she saw no zombies. Of course they could be hiding, She sidled at the edge of the corner wall and peered around. She saw a walker standing still in the center of the street. She let out a low whistle, drawing the zombie toward the sound. Not enough to be heard by any others that might be lurking about. The zombie was shuffling closer, she pulled out her small pocket knife, it was hardly bigger then her thumb. It was enough. Just as the zombie appeared around the corner, Scraps slammed her foot into it's knee. Crushing it on impact. The zombie came sprawling onto the ground. she flipped it on it's back and jammed the knife in it's eye, sending blood spurting up. She brought the knife down on it's head a few times until she was satisfied she had truly put it to rest. She wiped the bloodied blade on her pants leg and continued walking.

((yes?))

((quick question: where are they currently?))

((anyone))

((Okay, thank you))
Scraps walked swiftly, her hair brushing across her neck as the wind swept it to the side. She finally found a building with a ladder to the rooftops. She quickly scaled the ladder. Reaching the rooftop within moments. She looked over the town, she had no preferences of where she should go. She chose a random direction and began jumping across the rooftops. She stops when she sees a boy standing by a small shed. She watches curiously from the rooftops. He did not move like the zombies did, stiff and broken. He could be fresh, she decided to observe for a moment before making her presence known.

Scraps nodded, he was one of the living. The dead do not speak, she debated going down at all. She contemplated the possible outcomes for a moment. She decided if they were unfriendly she would just have to kill them. She pocketed her knife and secured her bag to her body. She jumped swiftly down, landing in a defensive crouch to take the impact of the fall off her ankles. She landed fairly close to them, around arms length away. She straightened up and waited to see their reaction.

Scraps looked at her for a moment "who says I want anything?" she smiled. She could not help but bring her hand to her throwing knife. She refused to be defenseless if it came down to a fight.

"Trust me, no one can give me what I want" she said slyly. Her smile never faded, despite the glare in her direction. "I feel somewhat obliged to introduce myself to fellow survivors."

"I never said to trust me now, did I? That would be an idiotic decision" she leaned back against the wall.

"I won't harm either of you, not that you should listen to anything I say. That would be reckless. I can't say the same for that dog, he is getting on my nerves" she ran a finger along the blade of her dagger.

"I am going to assume you meant my name, which is an entirely different answer. Yet I have the answer to neither."

((Ok, bye))
"Scraps is what I respond to, much like an animal I suppose. I don't much care what you call me" she said passivly.