ZOMBIE FORUMS

It's a stinking, shambling corpse grotesquely parodying life.
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 Post subject: A KyhmChannel Network Special...
PostPosted: Wed Dec 03, 2003 1:19 am 
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HERE ARE TEH RULEZ

Sako wrote:
1. Try to keep your entries concise. A few paragraphs to a page should do nicely for the purposes of the story.
2. Don't bother including every character in your entry if it bogs down the story.
3. If you'd like for the other players to leave your character out of their entries, write yourself a good excuse and make sure whoever is following you understands not to use you.
4. If you need technical information, either google it or ask Rupe.
5. No "Cueing themes," you assholes...


Oh, and before you post here, please view this thread.

And now to violate rule #5...

*cue music. Scenes of men running around, ducking explosions, picking up wounded, and getting shot. One getting a chainsaw shoved through his eye. A shot of Grey diving into a trench as the ground explodes behind him, and of 3rd Squad marching past the wreckage of burned out tanks, one with a chainsaw sticking out of the driver's compartment, another turned completely over and a large dildo being pulled out of the mud next to it by a tired looking woman. Fade to a bunch of tattered looking soldiers on a hill crest, one with a chainsaw, one with a huge fawking crucifix, and one with a 20' dildo slung over her back*

<center>Band of Fappers</center>

Prologue: D-Day Minus Two

Men (and a few scattered women) were everywhere on the tarmac, strapping on gear, applying face paint. A small band of soldiers gathers around a priest of some sort (Mibbers, actually) who is performing a blessing on them. A woman with a red cross (not regulation paint, oddly faint and smells funny…) was strapping a can of gasoline to her back, just below the parachute. She pulled out from behind her a chainsaw and patted it lovingly, showing what the gas was intended for. Another man looked like a walking bundle of TNT, so completely was he covered in it.

This was K Company, the elite, (in)famous company of the 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment. Scraped together from the various flotsam and jetsam of the military, they were somehow formed into an effective fighting unit. Several of their officers have seen combat in other theatres.

A jeep pulled up to the tarmac where most of K company had gathered to prepare for the assault, scheduled drop in France. Stepping up on the back of the jeep in order to be seen by everyone, an unremarkable figure shouted out, “K Company! Listen up!”

Things quieted down fairly fast, and most of the assembled soldiers either looked at Captain Kyhm or moved up to hear him better. Though not exactly the most charismatic man on planet earth, he had a strong common sense that some of the vets said was a sign of someone who would make a good officer, maybe.

“The channel is clogged up with heavy fog and rainstorms, up until tomorrow. No invasion tonight!” Groans are heard at this, as well as the sound of a chainsaw revving up, “The invasion is on a 24 hour hold, and you all get to stay on standby. Company lieutenants, take charge of your platoons!”

The company spread out, doing whatever it is they wanted to do to pass the time. Not surprisingly, an argument started out almost immediately. Grey and Rand were going at it, Grey trying to convince Rand this time to leave behind a voice amplifier that Rand said was to spread communist propaganda to the workers and peasants of France.

“I don’t care if you want to go and get yourself shot by some bloody German sniper, but you’ll call attention to all of us with that! You need to leave that shit behind, you stupid red! You’ll get us all killed!”

“Comrade, you’re sounding most unrevolutionary today, and I must warn you, if you side with the running dogs on this issue, I’ll be forced to liberate your brains from your skulls…”

Mibbers began to walk over to attempt to mediate a truce of some sorts before the two went at it, and others began to watch the growing conflict with interest…

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PostPosted: Wed Dec 03, 2003 11:58 am 
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*whistles to gather platoon*
...
*waits for Rand and Grey to stop shouting at eachother*

allright men, you've got down time till then...except you Risky, i'm expecting you'll be a little busy tonight, but the rest of you, double check your affairs are in order, letters to loved ones, dogtags, plenty of ammo, gu--*spies Private Baker's dildo*--weapons in good working order, take a round at the firing range to sharpen yourselves if nessicary...

...and I want NO BODY "altered" when we have to take off, so if you're using contraband, use it now and use it quick

now, for our platoon's breakdown....

1st Squad will be flying in over the northernmost point of Normandy beach, dropping five miles inland. You will work you way back to the beach, neutralizing forces along the way

2nd Squad will drop 10 miles south and 5 miles back from their position, you will be doing the same, but being sure to hit this German airstrip and motor pool, if you can commendeer a ground vehicle, more power to you, BUT be sure to communicate it so we don't destroy our own men

3rd squad will be dropped in the dead center of the carnage 30 minutes before the other groups, 5 miles in from 2nd squad, we are heading for what's believed to be the center of their operations, unfortuately, we are still unsure about their exact location, that's why we go 30 min early and where you come in Private Young, find an off-duty officer, seduce as nessicary (use the French accent, I--er, uh, intelligence reports that the German troops love that), and get the place out of him. Should Risky fail, Sgt. Gias will have a crack at it. Now remember, we need them ALIVE to talk...

"Awww....but that takes all the fu--"
"you can torture some other poor Germans AFTER the invasion, we'll have plenty of P.O.W."
*Gias just pouts and rubs Chompy menacingly*

anyway, once we've figured out the position, we'll move in and neutralize them, hopefully disrupting the chain of command enough for the day, I will be accompanying this group

4th Squad, flies in another 10 miles below, 5 miles from the shore-line, does same as group 1. Don't get too many of your people killed this time...

Sgt. NPC just nods

we go in under radio silence until the main forces land, group 2, if you get a vehicle, don't move out until after our forces land

allright, any questions?
...
yes private Altoor?
...
*sigh* FINE, bring the microphone, but keep it off until we break radio silence, anything else?
...
Private Grey?
...
I'm with group 3 because of the stealth they'll need, plus I hate you so much
...
....NO, it's NOT that Private Young is in that group
>_>
<_<
uh...DISMISSED, go get some target practice and some shut-eye

*walks off sharpening bowie knife*

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PostPosted: Wed Dec 03, 2003 1:17 pm 
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Corporal Wolf was somewhat anxious about the latest orders from the CO. As Team leader of 2nd squad’s 1st team, he was responsible for keeping his troops alive, not out of duty but more because moving shields were more effective then dead ones you had to drag around. If it was up to him, he’d be back in the States having some fun but unfortunately, the law didn’t look too kindly on arsonists. He looked at the three soldiers he was responsible for: PFC The Mad Thinker, Private Actorvius, and Private Thai. He was given charge of an acquirer, a spy who didn’t even know which side he was on, and some guy who really liked his shovel. All commanded by him, a guy who had no idea what he was doing and just felt explosives were the best answer. He could already see hundreds of ways this mission could go wrong. That wasn’t even considering the trouble that Team 2 could cause or his probably drunk leader, Sgt. Williams.

He and Corporal Baker were given the task of destroying an enemy airstrip and motor pool as well as clearing out all hostiles between their landing point and the beachhead 10 miles away. He already began to dread the meeting he would have after the mission about his overuse of explosives. It was always the same: one of his superiors would berate him about how the engineers calculated that Wolf only needed half of the explosives he used and that constantly restocking their supplies was starting to be a real drain on resources. And every time, Wolf was always thinking ‘That may be enough to collapse the bunker/bridge/structure, but I wanted to make sure they couldn’t salvage any of it.’ He knew his bags would be checked before he entered the transport to make sure he didn’t take more bombs then he was supposed to, but he had a good understanding with TMT and could count on him to bring plenty of explosives. As he looked for a place where he could sleep undisturbed, he took out a cigarette and smoked as he began to sleep. In his dreams, he could already see a simple layout of the targets, trying to remember where fuel tanks were located and where to place the charges to completely level the objectives.


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PostPosted: Wed Dec 03, 2003 5:02 pm 
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Revolutio and the rest of 1st Squad didn't concern themselves with memorizing target. The general plan was to keep walking until they found a beach. After that there was some debate. There was some muffled talk of fitting Nazis or some such nonsense but it was generally accepted that the idea was to occupy a bakery and some sort of transportation vehicle for their haul.

To take up their time Immanio and Rand were having a knife/sickle-throwing competition much to the chagrin of 4th Squad. Doc seemed to be checking his medical supplies and injecting himself with something. He spaced out and didn't say much after that. Mad was getting his lead pipe spit shined by Private Risky, there was something vaguely wrong about that but Revolutio couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Revolutio and the Canuck were busy skeet shooting with canned goods. Much to everyone's dismay the canned food was just as bad as the rest of British food hence they served much better as targets. Revolutio was firing his springfield from his hip. Occasionally he would catch one of the cans a bit early and some poor private would get bowl worth of clam chowder on his head.

If tension meters existed they would be flatlining when near 1st Squad


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PostPosted: Wed Dec 03, 2003 7:25 pm 
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Pilot was in a bitter mood, as always. He had the most work of the group, having not only to fly the squads and avoid anti-aircraft fire (damn Germans were getting better aim) but he had to hide his plain from the rest of the company. After last time he swore never to leave his plane where the demolition squad could find it. Guess he should get it now...

On his way there Pilot thought about what he had to do, he had to fly in the 4 squads come back, get refuled, and return in time to lift their respective asses out of the situation they no doubt woulda gotten themselves into. He just hoped that for once he wouldn't have to get a new plane after this mission...


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PostPosted: Thu Dec 04, 2003 10:18 am 
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.oO(Fuck! Fuck Fuck! Why'd I have to wake up late today?)

*Omni rushes about the empty barracks getting dressed and working out his plan in his head. He considers shaving but then scraps the idea as his razor is dull from his carving stint last night. All part of his plan.*

.oO(Thinking back on that, that wasn't such a good idea... Rand's grenades are a bit dangerous to be carving individual smiley faces on each fragment. But then again if I didn't do that the plan would never work out.)

*Donning his cap Omni rushes out of the barracks towards the quickly scattering crews, he'd been briefed the night before, so there was no real worries about missing the meeting. Omni was more concerned about being about to find the platoon before they dispersed.*

.oO(Have to hurry, first squad first.)

*Omni spies Grey and Rand's conflict with the rest of the first squad looking on, again, this time about communistic propaganda*

.oO(Well, at least they're together...)

"I don't care what the hell it's for, you're not bring a fucking BILLBOARD into the battlefield, how th-"
"Hey, Grey, Red, knock that shit off. Save it for after the plan."
"But we alread-"
"That wasn't a plan, that was nothing more than a skeleton. Here is the plan."

*Omni pulls a large clipboard out of his shirt. The poor thing is literally stuffed with papers. He then points at Jap and Fitt.*

You two, I want you to go get the 2nd and 3rd squads and bring them here. If you see Sergeant NPC tell him his part of the plan is simple, just have him and his entire squad go naked. Got it. Have Grey explain the plan when you are on the way to the drop off point. Oh, and don't forget to bring a pear with you.

*The two head off. And Omni begins his plan. He stops when he gets to the part about the buttered eggplants.*

...

"Buttered Eggplants? What the hell was I thinking? That should have been lightly salted."

*The other squads return in time to hear Omni explain to Mad why it is important for him to do a pirouette the second time he's spotted by the enemy, but not the first time. And the finer point of the execution of this particular dance move.*

*And so on the plan went well into the afternoon.*

.oO(My best one yet, they won't know what hit them.)

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Build a man a fire, warm him for a day,
Set a man on fire, warm him for the rest of his life.


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PostPosted: Tue Dec 16, 2003 9:26 pm 
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By the time Gawd had finished laying out his plan, the majority of the platoon had disappeared. As ignoring the garrulous Master Sergeant was pretty much standard operating procedure around the camp, the man contentedly explained the last few details that much more clearly to the unlucky, yet polite, bastards who hadn't yet found a chance to slip away.

Sergeant Williams, in particular, was characteristically lost in his worries. How am I going to keep my men alive? What if we misdrop? What if someone's chute doesn't open? What if MY chute doesn't open?! What if the Nazis have already raided all of the area's winecellars? Dear Jesus GOD, I'm gonna need me a drink when the initial fighting's over with..."

As he walked through the camp, past row upon row of rough canvas tents and piles of gear and ammuniton, Wino thought briefly of his home life, namely his bare apartment and dead-end factory job in New Jersey. No way in hell am I going back to that, no matter what the Krauts (and probably my own men) throw at me over the next couple of months.

The Sergeant shuddered at the thought of his squad, and suddenly realized he had been walking in the wrong direction. He made a quick and discrete U-turn before resuming his plodding pace back towards his platoon's area.

The squad leaders are bad enough... ample punishment, surely, for someone who's comitted sins like mine. In truth, however, the ever-unnerving "Wolf", a caustic brew of pyromania, natural aptitude for explosives, and paranoia and the downright disturbing Corporal Baker were the least of his worries. His squad's roster was filled out by the sorriest collection of misfits and crazies he'd seen since the beginning of the war.

TMT and Silas Actorvius were perhaps the most readily identified troublemakers, the former unwilling to fight and the latter unlikely to remember which side he was booked to fight for at any given time.
While he noticed some admirable qualities about both men (Their interest in trading contraband), he wouldn't trust either man with his life under any circumstances.

Next was the first of the squad's pair of snipers, Pvt "Not a Girl" Pavlichenko, whose high-pitched voice Wino could coincidentally hear over the din of the camp and from perhaps a quarter of a mile away. I HAVE to find out where he hides those goddamned pixie sticks...

The solid THWOCK of a shovel connecting to someone's groin abruptly brought Pavlichenko's voice to a stop, and returned the Sergeant's thought to their previous course.

Pvt. Thai... A good soldier, to be sure, though perhaps a bit too quick to use a blunt instrument to get his way... looks kinda like a Jap, too, though he claims to be part "Vietnamese", if that's even a real word. He was also a damned good shot with his stolen FG-42, and rounded out the squad's sniper team rather nicely.

Next up was Bar, the walking arsenal. While it was rather comforting to have a half-dozen assault weapons covering your advances, the man seemed somewhat mistrustful of his fellow soldiers. Definitely gonna have to keep an eye on that one...

Finally, the Sergeant's slightly beer-fogged thoughts came to Twitch. Nothing bad could really be said about the man (perhaps because nobody knew anything about him), but Wino was determined to come up with something, if at the very least to fit into the theme of his recent thoughts. Twitch... he... ... the bastard cheats at Rummy.

Satisfied and finally within sight of his tent, Wino allowed a rare smile to split his face at the scene before him. Sickle-throwing, a bonfire, at least two fistfights, and a pile of jury-rigged explosives... I love these guys...

EDIT:
- Posted unproof-read, because I've been up for almost 30 hours.


Last edited by Sako on Tue Dec 16, 2003 10:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Tue Dec 16, 2003 10:08 pm 
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OOC: Since the order seems to have been forgotten, I'll just post what I had anyway . . . /OOC

Todd leans up against a tank, toothpick lodged firmly between his teeth. Inside his mouth, it was getting more and more frayed, and soon he'd begin chewing on the whole thing proper before he ate the damn thing out of sheer boredom. Looking up to the sky, he sighs, then pushes off the tank and begins walking towards the barracks.

As he walks, he is momentarily accosted by Omni. "Excuse me, Private Zehner?" Omni says.

"Bwah?" Todd says.

"I'm going to need you to wear a penguin suit," Omni says, handing Todd said item of clothing.

"Ah," Todd says. "A penguin suit?"

Omni nods. "It's all according to the plan," he says. Todd raises an eyebrow, then shrugs. Omni walks away, his attention now focused on Squabie. Todd takes a few moments to wonder about the accidental marskman's gender, then shakes his head.

"Already got enough problems with anatomy putting up with fucking Gias," he mumbles. Todd reaches the barracks, steps through the open door, and finds Risky engaged in some activity with Asmo. For a moment, the two freeze. Todd looks at them, coughs, then adjusts his glasses. "Don't mind me. It's not the first time I've walked in on this sort of thing. I'm just here to grab my sketchbook." Asmo and Risky stare at him as he calmly walks over to his bed (would cot be more appropriate?) and pulls his sketchbook out from under the mattress. Then he leaves, and they shrug.

"Won't you be in trouble with the Sergeant?" Asmo says.

"Nah," Risky says, "I can work fast. And he won't mind."

Todd sits down on the hood of a truck, currently unoccupied. Looking around him cautiously, he ducks down over his sketchbook and begins to draw.

Unnoticed, Chompy tears through another member of 4th Squad. Gias begins to profusely apologize, then stops as she sees the new playmate Chompy gave her.

Todd continues drawing.

He doesn't notice the Ka-BOOM! announcing that, once again, Pilot was unable to keep an eye on Chaz's activites, and his prized vehicles had suffered. This time it was Pilot's laboriously-reconstructed motorbike. Todd misses the resulting high-speed chase through the base, still intent on drawing.

Todd finishes drawing, then hops off the truck. "Done," he says. He walks back to the barracks, notes that Risky is gone, leaving a seemingly-satisfied Asmo lying on his back in his bed. Todd puts his sketchbook away, then walks out.

"Hope we get going soon. Getting bored," he says to Brian. The resident philosopher is curled up on the side of the barracks, leafing through a VERY dog-eared copy of "Thus Spoke Zarathustra." Todd quickly walks away before Brian notices he was spoken to and launches into a monologue about the ideas currently floating through his head.

He leans up against the tank, the toothpick still in his mouth, and looks up at the sky. He sighs. “Nothing much seems to happen these days,” he says.

OOC: I used a lot of people in this post. Hope no one minds. /OOC

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