The Walking Dead Roleplay

This RolePlay, is set in the 'The Walking Dead' universe, however. It will not be taking place in Georgia, as the show/comic does. Instead, it will take place in Colorado, filled with farms and other settlements.

Skye walked through the woods, leaves and branches crunching with every step. She held a leaf, tearing it into smaller pieces to only leave the stem. When the stem was only left, Skye discarded the leaf and picked up a new one, repeating the process.

Derrick sits in a small opening, west of Skye. He had just raided a small cabin on the south side of the woods, and was now recounting all of his loot. He had gained two packs of dry ramen noodles, a can of soda, and a can of tomato soup. He grinned as he popped open the soda, drinking half of it's flat, watery contents. "Not how it used to be. But I'll take it." He muttered to himself, looking up at the dark, overcast sky. It should rain soon, and along with that it was slowly turning into late fall, and in Colorado, that meant snow could fall at any minute.

Skye looked up at the sky, sighing as she knew that she would have to find shelter soon. She held a distinct sound of a pop, but took it as one of the leaves crunching from an animal. She continued to walk, turning West in search of shelter.

Derrick stood up, after finishing the soda. He turned around and faced the woods he had exited moments before, and chucked it into it. The sound of it hitting a tree, and then falling down into sticks and leaves below silently echoed. He picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, and then knelt down to pick up his baseball bat. His pistol was tucked away under his jacket, and into his belt at his lower back. He sighed, straitened his back, and then began walking forward.

Skye, hearing the sound of the nearby soda can, moved quickly. She took out her pistol, which rested in a gun holster, and slid behind a tree. From the heavy footsteps, she could tell it would be a man, alone. As the man approached, nearly at the tree, she turned, her 9mm cocked and pointed to his forehead.

Derrick jumped, his hand instantly shooting back to his Glock, and removing it from his belt. He aimed it back at her, aiming somewhere near her face, so he hoped. Aiming was never his forte.
His heart beat quickened, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. The last time he actually saw a living person, they tried to kill him, after they had killed his brother.

Skye breathed steadily, examining the man. "Drop the gun," Skye ordered, shifting her fingers on her gun. The environment was silent around the two, only the chirps of birds and insects to be heard.

"An-And what if I don't?" Derrick asked, his voice shaking lightly as he held the gun, his palms began to sweat, so he had to re-grip his hand on he gun. He shifted his feet as well, gaining a more balanced stance.

"I'll shoot you." Skye replied, her eyes fixed on his. "You have five seconds; five, four..." Skye began.

Derrick dropped the gun, but still had his bat in his hand. He didn't move, only stared at her, one foot slowly going behind him, as he raised his empty hand. This was it. Killed by a girl in the zombie apocalypse. Just his lucky. Not biters, not starvation. Killed by someone who was trigger happy.

Skye kicked the gun away, watching as the man moved away. Behind her, were distant growls. Skye quickly glanced over her shoulder. Five or more walkers were heading their way. She turned back to the man, "Run if you don't want to die." She breathed, then bolted away.

Derrick shook his head, he picked up his gun and tucked it into his belt. 'Here comes the fun part.' He thought to himself quietly as he moved the baseball bat around in his hands like a professional baseball player would. He walked over to the first biter that exited the woods, and with one clean swing, he caved in the left side of it's head. With a garbled crunch, he removed the bat from it's head, allowing the body to fall to the floor. As the second, third, fourth, and fifth all exited the woods. He grinned. "Batter up." He said quietly to himself, as he stepped backwards, one biter lunging at him, but falling over the already dead one. With one swift motion he stomped it's head into the dry, cold dirt, and then proceeded to toss the bat into the air, catching it at it's hilt, and swinging at the next one. He hit it, and the head came off on one side, now lolling to the left, blood slowly spurting out of the fresh cavity where it's head once sat, now off balance, the biter fell over, and onto a upright, broken stick, lodging the stick into it's cranium, and killing it. All while he held the baseball bat in a classic player stance, the bat slung loosely over his shoulder, both hands on the end, and one knee slightly bent, as he turned slightly to the side from the momentum of the swing. Then he casually walked up to the remaining two, and with a single hit to the left side of one of them, he went into it's head with the bat, and with a small bit of momentum left, he knocked the other one onto the ground with the body weight of the next. "A swing and a miss." He muttered, as he brought the bat down on the final biter.

Skye encountered a few of the walkers as she ran, using her screwdriver to send the kill-shot. Once she had ran far enough, a good fifty feet, she rested against a tree, brushing her stray-hairs back. She looked back to where she had run from; to where she had left the man. A slight pang in her gut bothered her for leaving the man for dead. Skye convinced herself that by his body-build, he would survive. She slowly and hesitantly began to walk.

After a catching his breath, he readjusted his backpack and began to run after her. Now in he heat of the moment, he had the urge to make a comeback, possibly kill her, as she was going to do to him. But, he never knew. Girls had a soft spot for him, only having one girlfriend pre apocalypse, there was still a lot left to discover, and he also needed someone around. He had began to get paranoid. Hearing things that weren't there. Restless nights, and suicidal moments.

Skye turned as she began to hear the increasingly approaching footsteps. "Good grief," She breathed, then began to dash away from the man. Skye was a good athlete, able to outrun nearly all of her track-team in high school. However, this man was older and fit.

('older')

After a moment or two she came into view. "Hey!" He yelled out, pushing forward as he covered more ground, catching up to her faster, barely even out of breath at this point. He came up beside her, now matching pace. "Gonna run all day, or can we actually settle this. The fact you almost killed me for no reason." He said, normally he'd be running the opposite direction, but he was now fueled by nothing but pure addreneline(orwhaever)

('one year')
Skye stopped, "I wasn't going to kill you. I said I'd shoot you." Skye caught her breath, faced towards the man. "There, settled, I'll be going my own way now." She said, looking around for a new path.

"Which, would leave me just as good as dead and you know it." Derrick said, stopping a few feet in front of her. "A, I can assure you I don't have the proper tools to aid it, and B, You know for a fact it'd draw biters to the blast location, and depending on where you shot me I wouldn't be able to get away fast enough, but no matter where you shot me, the blood would draw more. So, this time tomorrow. I'd be dead. For No Reason." All of this came out calmly, not a single stutter, not a single correction. Which was completely unnatural for Derrick. But, when hyped up, and ready to do anything, anyone can do something they didn't know they could.

(hYPE)

Skye rolled her eyes, "I didn't shoot you, though. So quit whining." Skye said, beginning to stomp off. Above them, rain began to pour increasingly heavily. Skye looked up, then hiked her backup up to shield her face from the rain.

"You know." Derrick said, casually walking next to her, the raining hitting him periodically. "There's this old cabin about a quarter of a mile from here. You're welcome to stay there for the night, to get out of the rain. Or, you know. Stay out here walking, where the rain washes out the sound, and smell of nearby biters." He shrugged. What was he doing? Actually talking to someone with Gusto, with feeling. Not his normal, silent, stuttering talk. He was sure to go back to normal soon, he could already feel the paranoia creeping back up. What if she left, and he was alone again? What if she killed him in the night?

Skye turned to him, then sighed. "Alright." She said, then waited for the man to lead the way. "Thanks." She murmured.

Once they reached the cabin, Skye was drenched. She tied up her hair, and rested her backpack on a couch. She took off her flannel, wrenching it out into a blood-stained sink. She rested it on a chair, then sat on the couch. Skye looked at the man, "My name's Skye." She announced, "Just to let you know."

(what's under the flannel )


"Derrick." He replied, as he sat down in a old, tattered leather recliner. Pictures of his family lined the fireplace mantle, him catching his first fish, breaking his first bone, all of it. He refused to look at them, and instead began to look through his backpack. Now back in his silent, scared state.

(a shirt)
Skye observed Derrick, something she did with strangers. She looked up at the fireplace, then stood to examine the pictures. "Is this you?" She asked, then glanced over her shoulder to compare the photo-Derrick and real-Derrick. "You own this cabin?" Skye said.

"Yes." Derrick said, not looking up at her when she asked about the picture. "And no. No one owns anything anymore. Everything's free for all." He said, looking at the floor now.