The United States of Zombieland

Rules:

- Okay, I want people to be able to at least make a three line post in this RP. I haven't put it in the Seriously RP section because I'm not someone to expect novels for every post, but try your best.

- No, I repeat no Mary-Sues, Gary-Stus or any of their cousins. Also, if your character is revealed to be a kawaii, then you're out.

- Yes, this is a zombie RP. Yes, this will have guns, quite possibly death, and at least a bit of blood. But please, keep it PG-13.

- I know that the film this is based off swears and drops innuendos like there's no tomorrow. That doesn't mean this RP has to follow suit.

- Please don't use canon characters. I know I mentioned the rules, but our group can figure them out for themselves. Canon characters are no fun.

- I will approve your forms, and I reserve the right to kick you out if you break any of the rules.

- Yep, I'm lazy and I've just copied this from my last Zombieland RP. Oh well.

Form:

Nickname: (The name of the town you're headed towards)

Age:

Gender:

Looks:

Personality:

Weapons: (Keep it realistic. How many bazukas will you find in Zombieland America?)

Other:

Eh, I'll post my forms in a bit

Nickname: Springdale

Name: Lane Keith Twiss

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Looks: -

Personality: Lane is open, friendly, inclusive and highly (even unrealistically) optimistic. In common with most young men, he is a risk taker and believes himself to be indestructible, when in this case, he is not. He is also easily distracted, often breaking into rants about things that have nothing to do with the current situation, far-fetched stories about his brother and indulging in a flight of fantasy about several things in the future: all at the most inconvenient of times. Being born in the city of Savannah, he presents himself as a goofy, beer-loving country guy with an artless and naive world view. But Lane's irrepressible optimism leads to some mixed relationships with other people, who usually cannot figure out if Lane is genuinely oblivious to the world around him or if he has a highly resilient, tough-minded personality who chooses to mask or defend it behind a light-hearted surface persona. Although his seeming obliviousness to the severity of the situation implies that he is rather naive or even unintelligent, this view is gravely mistaken: he is not stupid, as he proves many times over tough situations. Whatever is supposed to be the truth, Lane shows the view that life is a thrill-laden adventure whilst his open and friendly nature allows him to form affectionate bonds with people (if they let him) effortlessly. He is one who is quick to claim everyone as his friends.

Weapons: Baseball bat.

Other: Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, because of this he is your typical country hick. Has a very thick southern accent.

Nickname: Adelaide but i doubt i'll ever get there

Age: 14

Gender: female

Looks: too young to be tangled up in this mess thats for sure. long brown hair with soft green eyes slender and wearing jeans plus tee

Personality: scared of everything, has some crazy ideas. believes almost everything she is told and just wants to get out of here. She will happily accept company and is a bubbly young girl.

Weapons: umm...Plants? (I wish).. herself (she knows Karate) anything she can throw prefer's to hide but does have a whip (can you whip a zombie?)

Other: Born and raised in Adelaide she came with her parents on a holiday to America, Now they are dead and she is desperate to get back home.

Both accepted~ And yes, I'm going to be lazy and copy my old form.

Nickname: Phoenix

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Looks: Phoenix has dark brown hair, that she pulls away from her face in a messy ponytail or bun - there's not much point in bothering with your looks when you might be about to die, right? Her full fringe is growing quickly, so it is usually in her blue eyes, and it may be plastered to her forehead by sweat if she's been running. She doesn't tower over people, but she isn't exactly small, standing at 5'6 with an athletic build. When she raids for clothes, she usually tries to find just jeans and a plain t-shirt, which she wears with her own jacket and combats boots. She has taken it upon herself to carry ammo, so she carries a bag packed with reloads, and a few spare guns for newcomers.

Personality: Phoenix finds herself quite at home in Zombieland, because of her love of combat and, more importantly, guns. She knows enough about them to have a fair advantage, so she usually takes care of them in the group. Her attitude is very much attack first, question later, so the group members wouldn't want to get on her bad side. Especially not when she has her pistol with her, that she has grown quite attatched to. She has a temper that will flare up more than it is good to, and her rash decisions could put the group in danger if it involves the undead. She doesn't want to get close to anyone in here, and in a choice between saving herself or the group, she'd save herself. She knows enough to keep alive, alone if necessary.

Weapons: Phoenix has a normal pistol that she has grown rather attatched to, so much so that she will attack anyone stupid enough to touch it. She also keeps a shotgun in any car she uses, for more power if they're attacked by a horde, and a crowbar. Handy enough for smacking zombies around the head with.

Other: Nope

Nickname: Hazelwood

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Looks: Hazelwood is approx' 6 foot 1, athletic build, he has short brown hair which covers the top of his head, he always wears his black fitted 59Fifty hat which was his friends before he died, girls usually fall for him due to his bright blue eyes but he is one who against this as there is a zombie apocalypse happening.

Personality: Hazelwood is a very solo figure, refusing to trust others since his best friend was turned into a zombie and he decided he would never have friends until every zombie has been exterminated. Having such a genuine hate for them has led him to becoming a very angry person who doesn't tend to get along with others easily. I can't be bothered to write anymore!

Weapons: Machete attached to a sachet on his right leg and a Gurkha on the left. He also has a double barrel shotgun which he acquired when killing zombies.

Other: CBA to do big form!

Accpeted~ :3

M'kay, we could probably start now...

Sharply turning to his left, Hazelwood heard a screech come from down the hall to his left. The problem occured that he could not see anything without his torch which he had decided to leave in the trunk of his car. "I'm dang regretting this now" the only words that he could murmur to himself without getting figured out by the zombies. It was decision time, he could either keep going to the source of the noise or he could leave now and get away unscathed. The first option sounded sweet, but by the sounds of it there were at least 30 of them while only one of him so he turned around, walking back down the stairs slowly, making sure he made noise to see if any came out...nothing happened however much to his dismay.

Stepping outside into the sunlight felt good on his skin, not feeling crushed by the emptiness and deathly feeling of the house he had just been in. Looking back, seeing the towering darkness he strolled forwards towards the side of the road. Looking left, looking right and seeing nothing dampened his mood until he heard the sounds of gravel being crushed on the floor. His head swerved right, catching a glimpse of a large black car travelling in the distance. Waiting for the vehicle to come closer, he raised his arm to call for it to stop.

"Holy s**t, holy s**t, holy s**t," Phoenix muttered to herself, her hands shaking on the steering wheel as she repeated the only words she could think of. She pulled one hand away to dig her pistol out of her pocket, braking momentarily so she could squeeze her eyes shut. She honestly couldn't remember how she'd got out of that one. She was outnumbered, at least thirty to one, and she'd managed to run without a single bite. Phoenix's eyes snapped back open as she lifted her free hand to her head, gently running a finger over the cut on her cheek. She'd been lucky, but she couldn't let herself get into that sort of situation again. Not if she wanted to make to to Arizona alive.

It took her a while, but Phoenix finally glanced over to the side of her road, and her heart skipped a beat. Unless she was mistaken, there was a young guy - a real guy, not one who wanted to rip her to shreds - by a house. Sure, she was hoping to operate alone, but maybe he could help her in some way, by force or not. In her haste to drive up to him she slammed her foot down on the gas, causing the car to lurch forwards a lot less smoothly than she'd hoped. Phoenix pulled up to the pavement, stopping right beside the guy, and wound the window down."Yeah?"

It was evident almost instantly to Hazelwood that the driver in the approaching car was not in a calm mood, so he readied his shotgun which was attached to his back and pulled it to his side. As the car pulled over and the window quickly dropped, the face of a woman the same age as himself appeared, she was a very beautiful girl but looked like she could be killed easily, maybe he wasn't taking her seriously enough but he couldn't take the risk, he raised the shotgun straight in front of him, pointed it directly towards her face. "Have you been bitten at all within the past 4 hours?" Questioning the woman instantly took priority as he stared into her eyes.

Phoenix stared at the shotgun in her face, then raised her eyebrows and tilted her head up to the owner of the gun. "No, I can't say that I have. I wouldn't be likely to tell you if I had, would I?" She tried to keep her voice at it's usual level of sarcasm, but she was still - though she'd never admit it - shaken by her recent escape. She lifted her hand, fighting to keep it steady as shr pointed her pistol straight at the man in front of her. "The same question to you. Have you been bitten?" She regained some of her composure, scowling to appear more intimidating.

Scowling at the sarcasm this girl had been giving him from the start, he lowered his gun and gave her a smile that she would remember forever. "I'm perfectly fine, behind me in this house is 30 zombies ready to eat me though, my car is broken, I need a ride, help a fella' out." He replied in the same type of voice as she had shown to him, looking back at the house then looking straight towards her, noticing her pistol had been raised, he quickly grabbed her pistol and lowered it down. "I am not going to harm you, there is no more reason for you to have a gun pointed towards me!" He proclaimed and laughed in a friendly manner.

Phoenix let out a sigh, flicking her fringe out of her eyes with a jerk of her head. "I was exactly hoping for tag-alongs," she said, her voice still cold. "I'm headed to Arizona, and I'm willing to bet that you're not travelling that far." Even so, her hand twitched as she spoke, and she very nearly lowered the gun. She was covered for a moment later, however, by an involuntary growl she gave as her gunwas lowered for her. "Okay, get in the car. But if you're coming with me, you need to learn one thing. Don't touch my gun." She pulled her hand away and dropped the gun onto her lap, still scowling.

Nickname: Lionn

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Looks: Lionn is a caucasian male of an average build, with short brown hair and green eyes. He wears a blue button up shirt half the time and dark jeans he claims is worth a lot. He has multiple rings on his finger, one of which bears a symbol belonging to a gang. It can be gathered from his appearance that he is a ladies' man as he has lipstick smudged on his collar as well as a love bite, or hickey, on his neck. It is mentioned on multiple occasions that he was previously married, possibly multiple times. He is tall and has a muscular build of a typical man. Other than that, he looks like a gambler who has nothing good under his sleeve.

Personality: Born hypocrite and pathological liar, Lionn is just lucky that he's rather good at the later—he doesn't feel bad for it because in the end, he gets what he wants. He's known to be very snide, sarcastic, and cold to the general public, holding people at an arms length and being very enigmatic. Within his friends (namely his friends, who are very few), he will either act as the slightly exasperated, prideful mother bear that points out the flaws in plans of action and keeps anyone from getting arrested; or he will take the role as jokester, being outrageous, bizarre (perverse at times), very wry, sarcastic, and eccentric.

Weapons: He usually carries is two pistols, but he typically uses whatever he can find around him.

Other: It's known hes had some trouble with the law, as he's admittedly a con-man and announces it is illegal for him to have possession of a firearm. But, come on, it's a zombie apocalypse. That doesn't matter anymore, right?

Knowing that he had angered her, he winked to her before he opened the door to the car, he was clearly trying to aggravate her further but decided to leave it in the end as this was his only form of transport. "California, west coast. We pass through the border to get to where you are headed, drop me off when we pass through?" Keeping his words short, he didn't want to get into a full conversation. "Understood, just don't get in my way" Replying in disgust towards her, feeling her edgy-ness leaking from her persona.

Accepted~

"I hope to God we find someone else," Phoenix muttered, starting the engine again. "It'd be better than being stuck with you alone for however long it takes to get to California." She shifted in her seat, glancing at Hazelwood out of the corner of her eye. "Can we be clear from right now that I'm going to hate you? It makes it easier in the long run." She chewed on her lip, turning down a side road. "What am I meant to call you, anyway? I'm not using your name, that means we start thinking life's gonna go back to normal."

"I'm not going to lie to you, you're a very pretty woman and all, but I agree with you, I am going to end up hating you I can already tell!" As much as he didn't want this, he could not have friends as this point in his life with everything that was going, so he just nodded and agreed with everything she said. "Call me Hazelwood...and yourself?" Smirking to himself casually, not having a grain of trust in her at all. Noticing her chew her lip for the 4th or 5th time, he began to wonder what exactly she was thinking about, was she worrying, angry or excited? But what for?

Leaning forward and pressing his dirt covered hands lazily across the glass case in front of him, Springdale's hazel pools glistened brightly when eyeing the mass array of weapons before him. All the way from submachine to the lousy pistols he didn't bother to pay attention to, he rose his decently large foot to a good distance before swinging it forward. With a loud crash, the glass shattered and pieces scattered beneath his feet, dirtying the floor more than it already was. "Well, would'ja lookie 'ere," he mumbled to himself, his thick southern accent dancing in his words as he spoke. Springdale reached in and pulled out a shotgun, immediately giving it look-over with keen fascination. "A Winchester 1200, what a beaut! I remember Pa had one just like it."

Talking to himself was the only thing that kept the hick sane. Loneliness was the worst thing in the world, and Springdale had a large case of it. Ever since leaving his parent's home and his shop behind due to this disaster, he didn't have the opportunity to communicate to no one other than himself. Springdale was a bubbly guy, and when nothing fueled his fire, what else was there to do? Setting his bat down and turning his back from the door, he brought the weapon close to his mouth and breathed on it casually. When fogged up just enough, he used his already bloodied plaid shirt to wipe it off and reveal a clean reflection of the redneck. "Heh, never knew I would find one just like it."

Sinking his frying pan in the back of his friend was the last thing Lionn wanted to resort to. It had been days, possibly weeks (he couldn't remember) since this thing had hit, and his best mate named Kevin was the only one that stuck by his side. Now, he's dead. He didn't know if that constituted as bad karma or not, but something had to happen. Lionn would rather not be used as a walking Happy Meal, so what had been done, had been done. Wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead he gripped the frying pan and exited the diner, turning his head back and fourth at the few shops nearby. "This place is already dead..." he whispered, furrowing his brow in frustration.

CRASH!

Lionn turned his head quickly at the direction of the noise. There's more? Tilting his head he started walking, holding that frying pan tighter than one could imagine. Whatever it was, dead or alive, it was gonna have to go through him first. Adrenaline rushing through his veins already, nothing was gonna stop him.

"Pa would be so proud a' me." Springdale solemnly said, raising his hand to his head and giving it a light scratch. Ever since losing his parents, something about him wasn't the same. He was still there, the beer-loving, knee-slapping redneck he grew up to be, but on the inside the sadness ate at his hope slowly like a parasite. The family he could only think of was in California, and that was a ways away from where he was now. Springdale would never think of suicide as the answer, but if nothing changed, he didn't want to think.

Checking the gun to see if it had ammo in it, his face twisted to a scowl when figuring out it had not. "Dagnabbit," he hissed, carefully climbing over the counter the dig through the cupboards for any left over ammunition. But figured there was very little, all ransacked when the time had come. "Just mah luck, huh?"

The sound of gravel crunching rang in the ears of the hick, and he immediately stood up, turning his attention to the front door. Clutching the empty weapon dear to him, he snatched the baseball bat from the counter and slowly started sauntering around to the entrance. Excitement began to build inside of him, another zombie he could batter the hell out of. This was all a sport to Springdale it seemed, not killing or slaughtering of the dead, but a game. Might as well enjoy the things in life, right?

"Phoenix," she answered, almost immediately. "That's where I'm headed." She drummed her fingers on the streering wheel, almost happy that they'd reached some sort of alliance based on mutual hate. She decided to completely ignore the compliment, if she even considered it as one, and instead kept her eyes firmly on the road. after a few minutes of silence, she stopped the car and twisted iin her seat to face Hazelwood "What weapons are you carrying?" she asked. "Only a shotgun, or do you have others?"