The Island: Sign in

"Done.", I say, looking at my disassembled tmp. The stopwatch sounds.

"Thirty two seconds."

"That's a new record for you."

I smile, and everyone goes back to what they were doing. We have fun sometimes, but it is always short lived. Seeing how fast I could disassemble my weapon is entertaining for them, but only for a short while.

"Weapons inspection.", I say, taking a wrag to my weapon. "It's clean enough to shoot, why does the captain want to see them anyway?"

A few murmurs of agreement sound through the barracks. Everyone else is cleaning their glocks, their berettas. I was the only one with a TMP. It was nice, but it got heavy sometimes.

I sighed, moving my weapon parts to my bunk. Nature was calling. The bathroom was at the end of the barracks, made slightly difficult having to climb up and over people.

The bathroom door slammed behind me, the room I left quickly muffled. The light music that was playing could no longer be heard, only a gentle scratching.

I sat down in one of the stalls, dropping my pants around my ankles. More scratching. What the hell was that noise?
I finished my business, wiped, washed my hands. The scratching gets louder, and I notice one of the stall doors moving.

"Did the door stick again?", I ask, walking towards it. The hinges were bent and cracked from where the person inside had been slamming on it. I sighed.

Bracing my leg against another stall, I grabbed the top of the door. I felt a clammy hand grab mine, and I immediately pulled away. My hand felt cold, and I noticed the smell. What was that?

Looking at my hand, I saw blood. It wasn't mine.

"Oh shit...", I said. As I turned around, the person inside gave a final push, knocking the door off its weakened hinges. Daniel lunged at me, the hole in his neck oozing blood.

"Stay back!", I shouted, turning and running. I slammed the bathroom door shut behind me, then pushing a wall locker in front of it. I sighed again, then turned around. I was met face to face with a man, his eyes milky white, blood running from his mouth. Behind him were my friends, bloodied, their weapons half assembled.

My weapon, my TMP, lay on my bed, safely tucked in. Two beds down. Too far away.

Note that this is far less 'open world' than we are used to. Rockfort Island, and possible Antarctica if I can find a way to get us there, were rather small areas. Of course, RE left a few broken gates and doors that we could never use in game, and I full intend to use them.

*Required, everything else adds to skills


*Name: (If you forgot due to the terrible experiments, name yourself after your cell number. That always works.)
Former Career: (For brownie points I might fashion a skill set. Sort of like Outbreak where Kevin had that power shot)
*Gender: (On an island where inhumane experiments take place, I will accept 'None'.)
*Bio: (You are the last, best hope for mankind. Yeah, yeah, I get it)

A few ground rules:
I will introduce weaponry. I have no problem with you picking up knives and small arms off fallen zombie guards, so ammo won't be a problem for them.

If you're a reporter for the Raccoon paper or some other non combat job, you're probably not that good of a shot. Unless someone else wants to teach you how to not suck, miss a few times when you try to kill something.

Name: Damon Radclyffe
Age: 45 (Born 1951)
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasian
Height: 6'3 - Weight: 290Lbs - Physique: Robust, muscular.
Former Career: U.S Calvary Scout

Damon was born in Portland Maine, and while he would call the place home for many years,
being the son of a corporal in the army forced him to travel the majority of his youth. After
graduating form high school, he enlisted in the U.S Army as a Calvary Scout and eventually
went on to take part in the Vietnam War.

Damon would serve two years in the military and successfully completed a number of missions,
but would be discharged shortly before the end of the war due to bad conduct. Damon would
return to Maine where he would eventually be hired aboard a freighting ship as a Navigator and
would later be promoted to Captain.

Name: Richter Harken

Career: Raccoon City Reporter

Gender: Male

Bio: He used to be a top photographer for Raccoon Today, getting all the good shots. He worked extensively with the RPD, appearing on Cops twice.

He had the misfortune to stumble upon the Hive as they were evacuating it. He was taken from the city before it was bombed. He thought he was safe, in his eyes Umbrella had saved possibly hundreds of civilians. In truth, the team that saved him had different intentions.

Name: Cadence Harmoni

Former Career: Musician, dancer.

Gender: Female.

Race: Caucasian.

Bio: Cadence was a skilled musician and dancer before her and her friends were "detained" for getting too close to Rockfort Island on the boat she'd rented for her 29th Birthday.

She hadn't even been imprisoned for 1 month before the outbreak on the Island.

Cadence doesn't sing, but she's very good with any musical instrument. Her dancing has made her very agile.


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A girl, for once in my life.