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[Closed] Random Zombie RP| Time: Day

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Hank:
Randell yawned as he rose from his slumber, he slept fairly well recently. He stretched momentarily and put his gaze upon the last rations he had. He gagged at the mere thought of having to go outside and scavenge for food among rotten meat. He peered through the front door of the small house that he borrowed from a dead couple, which he watched die and took the opportunity to take their home as soon as he slipped away. He hadn't bothered to help them, as he only used them for their rations. Rotten meat wasn't walk outside, he finally concluded as his gaze carefully analyzed the outside.

He walked out of the poorly barricaded home, and soon fog filled it. He stopped himself for a moment, and looked around.

"Anybody outside?" He said in a regular tone. Nobody answered, and he begun to walk again.

Randell looked very neat, he smelled a little bit like rotten meat though, but nonetheless he kept clean whenever he could. He walked the streets, and noticed dead bodies scattered around. He contemplated suicide, not because of all the deaths he has seen, and not even because society was destroyed. The smell of the dead meat bags is what got to him, it pissed him off that he had to deal with the smell wherever he went. Although his irritation was growing less and less throughout the days as he got use to the smell.

(Give me an event Cortex, pls. Oh and to everyone else: i'm in the residential area, near Al's shop)

Tickles:
@Rocks
(Note, some of my events tend to lean towards zombies.)

A few of the zombies heard the questioning cry of the painter, and followed the source. Their low growls indicating their location. It would be in your best interest to run. The safest bet is to head west.

Mr. Fox:
It had been twenty years since I looked at blue prints, but the ability to understand them was no less then before. I quickly gathered the materials I would need to build the left wing, then carefully following the instructions I started hammering nails into the wood. A few minutes passed and when I felt satisfied that my side was looking good I stood up and whipped the sweat from my forehead. "Damn it's been a long time since I did this much work. What material are we using to make the wings?"

Tickles:
Al finished off the right wing, and started to work on harness for the rider.

I really can't tell what it is, but it's strong and lightweight. All that matters now it getting it done as soon as possible, I don't think we have many hours of daylight left.

Mr. Fox:
I grabbed the material laid out and began to tack it down across the wings. It was light sure thing, but I worried that it would be a little weak. My fears were lessened when I dropped my hammer into the material, it bent just enough to take the new weight, but didn't rip. I finished up my wing then started on Al's while he constructed the rider's harness.

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