User:Mark Harrigan

	Roleplaying Notice
	Notice: This User or Group enjoys the RPG aspect of MMORPGs, the category of games that Urban Dead falls into. As such, there is probably quite a bit of roleplaying and/or creative writing on this page and in said User/Group's in-game actions. In other words, if you think the difference between IC and OOC is "One has an 'I' and the other has two 'O's," buzz off.

Facts Mark Harrigan Job: Former Firefighter Mission: Searching for those who are responsible for the outbreak of the zombie virus. Killing those who had anything to do with what caused the death of his entire family and still live - and making those things that are dead but still walk around even deader. Motto: "They laugh at the law. But they don't laugh at me" Favorite Equipment: If it can kill you, I'll use it: Shotgun, Pistol, Fireaxe, Knife, a Flare Gun shot right into your fuel drippy face... or even execution by punching you to death. UD Character Profile: Mark Harrigan Current Status: Getting stronger and better equipped each day. Getting closer to those I seek. Some things ya should know... Desire for Revenge Mark Harrigan is driven by a desire for revenge against whoever caused this zombie mess!. What are you looking at? Stop looking at my gun. Trigger Happy This user has guns. Do not cross them. Proud To Be Alive This user is a survivor and proud of it. European This user is European. How comics can change everything... Mark Harrigan used to be a Firefighter in the city of Malton, a man who did his job because it was necessary for the safety of the community. He did his job well and efficiently and without much concern about his own safety. He was a normal guy doing what had to be done day to day to make the city a better place for all - including his own family. ...Then, the outbreak changed everything. After his whole family was killed, his house was burned to the ground and all of his friends and relatives were either dead or rising to a caricature of human life, Mark found himself one day hanging out in a bar, which was the only building left untouched by the undead hordes of walking corpses in the streets of his suburb. He was tired and exhausted because he had continued to fight the many fires all over the place in Malton in order to help the survivors finding some places to hide. It seemed to be an endless and futile fight, though, and he eventually declared this bar to his very own safehouse, since the bottles of fine American Whiskey promised enough opportunity to forget the madness raging out in the streets. Mark actually began thinking of committing suicide since everything had lost any meaning: his life, his profession, his dreams and plans, even his memories. All the faces he remembered - his father, his Mom, his girlfriend, his son, even his cat... in his dreams they always changed into horrible grimaces attached to wounded, bloody bodies walking towards him while trying to snatch at him... before he woke up, covered in cold sweat. Suicide seemed the only option with some sense left to do in this place that once was his city and now was a nightmarish place beyond human understanding. One night, Mark sat down for a few shots of Elijah Craig, his favorite Whiskey, throwing his firefighter's helmet into a corner - and for the first time since the outbreak he started to ransack the kitbag he had carried over from his old house. Among some personal things he found some of the comic books his little son had loved so much... As the drink kicked in, he said to himself that since this kitbag was all that was left from his old life, he had to find a reason to live among the things this bag contained... because that was the only place left to look for a reason at all – and if he wouldn't find a reason here, then this night at the lonely bar would be the end of the road for him. It was already early in the morning when he was thru two-thirds of the bottle and he started to read one of the comics from his son. It was about Frank Castle, the Punisher.... Reborn... It's a One Man War against those who are responsible ...when the sun started to shine through the windows, the bottle was empty and Mark Harrigan had found a reason to live on. His son loved this comic character for a reason, Mark thought, and Frank Castle was someone who he - as all kids - adored as a real hero. His son obviously could make the difference between cowardice which changes nothing and dedication to a personal way of finding those who are responsible. The comic character lost his entire family – just like Mark. Frank Castle had to make a decision in the comics when all whom he loved were killed by some raging criminals – as Mark had to make a decision after losing his entire family. He looked to the windows which were bathed in golden sunlight and he said to himself: "Someone has to be responsible for all this and all who are responsible will be punished. God had his chance and didn't use it since he allowed something to happen which shouldn't happen at all in this world. Now it's my time... a time without mercy for those who let this happen!" That morning, when firefighter Mark Harrigan dozed off in the sunlight in the little bar in Malton, something happened again in the city, something as serious as the outbreak of the virus. A man who thought about suicide was formed into a One Man Army by reading his son's comics – and this changed these comics into the holy legacy of his son, who seemed to tell his Dad through the colourful pages Go on and be my hero, Dad – make'em pay for our death... make'em pay dearly'... He now takes it upon himself to distribute punishment to those responsible for the zombie outbreak. Currently he doesn't know the cause for the outbreak of the virus, but he is starting to pick up a trail and if you are reading this and you had anything to do with the outbreak, then you should better start running and leave this place as soon as possible. But it won't matter much – he'll find you anyway serving as judge, jury, and executioner in his mission to find those in Malton who did something terribly wrong. The War Journal 06-12-08 I think it's a nice idea to write a little diary. Makes me feel better and I have something to do when I'm alone in the house. And who knows, if it happens and I get killed someone may find it. Kinda message in a bottle for someone outside or to be found in a time when things are back to normal...if that ever happens of course. I'll have to make sure to get this window fixed, rained into my room last night. 09-12-08 Some freaky people around here. Just came home from a longer tour in the streets. I think it was Hook Avenue in Dartside... I saw this zombie lurking around and went over to him, crossing the street without much haste. As I came nearer I got my shotgun ready (the bracket I made from the straps of a military rucksack I found in a hotel, to wear two shotguns on my back works really well. Together with the special weapon holder that allows me to carry 4 revolvers all the time I'm pretty much prepared for every encounter.) and when I came at arms length I saw it was man of middle age, many wounds, the face looked pretty gory. The blasts of the two shots turned him around, but he was still standing. Suddenly I heard a squeaky voice saying 'Hi!' which was coming from somewhere behind the Zombie, apparently from a lonely survivor who was too terrorized by the ghoul to do anything against him. Since I couldn't see the source of the voice I didn't know how close the zombie was to the survivor and therefore I quickly put back the shotgun into the bracket, taking out one of my Magnum revolvers and shooting the Zombie right into the head 3 or 4 times. His head was almost completely gone after these shots and the body slumping down on the street...which was the time the squeaky voice turned into a fury and was getting really loud. I saw a man standing behind the dead body, shaking his fist at me and shouting 'You fuckin' bitch! Fuck you, damn! What the fuck did you...' - first I was quiet puzzled about this reaction but since this guy was obviously gone totally mad and enjoyed the company of an undead man for whatever he had in mind doing with him, I decided to just leave him there. Really, sometimes the living folks in Malton are giving me the creeps, not the walking dead... 13-12-08 I left the room with the broken window, couldn't fix it. Now sitting in what they call a safe-house these days, in Kinch Heights. Rumors go that things are getting tough in Dartside which is actually the adjacent suburb. The last days I've been searching ammo and weapons to fill up my armory and get ready to take a hard line with certain folks around here. A female police officer I met a few weeks ago, told me about raving lunatics again in Malton. Seems the cops know exactly who they are, what they do and where they can be found – but nothing happens. Looks pretty much like in the comics I usually read at night, it's about a city ruled by the Mafia and scum like that but nothing ever happens, no one is really going to stop them once and for all. I can still remember the days when Malton was a city like many others in good old England and it was known for a rather high rate of criminal activities, bad enough. Didn't really care about it, since I was there to fight fires not criminals and things were pretty safe where we lived...nice little street with nice little houses although it was a less attractive part of the city as a whole - Huntley Heights which was in fact the city´s red-light district. But now after the damned virus outbreak, or whatever it really was, the scum is getting stronger and more self-confident each day. I don't think that the 'Zombies' are the real threat anymore, if you learn to deal with them the right way it's pretty easy to get rid of them – and most folks in Malton have learned to not use the streets unless absolutely necessary. But anytime it seems a freak can come over the roof and kick your ass while you are asleep, has happened a lot to lots of people recently. And again, we do have some groups around that call themselves a form of militia or whatever but to me it seems that's not going to stop these criminals in what they do and obviously enjoy doing. This must change... 14-12-08 A few hours ago I met this female cop again, she told me about the reasons to better join a group and how it's going to make things much easier for everybody but actually I don't think that's helpful to anybody. Told her that I made up my mind and I don't work for or with anybody... you know, eventually they let you down. Malton has turned into a bad place to hang around, no one is going to catch you if you fall...I suppose a cop has a different view on things even these days and I know that I had a different opinion too about authority when I was a firefighter in a team run by strict orders. But that also has changed, dramatically I can say. Who the fuck is knocking at the door??? I've been alone here in this building for awhile and that's how I would prefer...yes, god damn it... 15-12-08 I've been around here in this mess for almost 4 years now and first we all thought the government would find a way to handle this big fuck up but nothing happened, I'm still here, my whole family is dead and nothing changed for fucking 4 years. They just brought up the walls around Malton and the military is watching us, making sure no one leaves this damned city, undead or alive, doesn't make much difference to them anymore. When I realized this I changed from a dedicated firefighter into someone who lost all confidence in authority and government and rules and all that crap. I put down the fireaxe and threw my firefighters helmet out of the window since I don't fight for them anymore – many times I had a fire extinguished some fuck set two new locations alight somewhere, just for fun, or to get in a house or for whatever reason these pricks do what they do. Fighting for the people who run the world or even just a country gets you stabbed in the back, you fight the wars they start and feed, you kill the monsters they create...and this seems to be the case again if I interpret the documents right that I found yesterday in the NT building. Will have to read them again this night... Ah forgot to write it down. Yesterday an old man knocked at my door, since he saw me coming back, told me a bit about the building, seems to be rather quiet here. He's living in the adjacent building with the rest of his family and used to come over here regularly to get some cans of food stored in a room. - Good to know about this room... 16-12-08 Back from a trip to the nearby police station, found some ammo, but only pistol clips, I'm running a bit short on shotgun shells, though. Reading the NT documents again I'm not really sure that I get what this guy is talking about...but I never understood what these NT buildings are for and what these 'scientists' are doing in there the whole day and even at night. Someone at the firestation once said it's about medical researches, finding a cure for cancer and things like that. First time now that I actually could get in such a building, so that was a pretty exciting trip. It was empty and I could get in through an open window, power was still on and computers were running. Looked around but no one was there. In a lab I found a DNA Extractor and luckily also a manual for some of the young students working there so I know now what it is for and how to use it. Will come in handy some day I'm sure. Unfortunately I couldn't get access to the more interesting data so I was stuck early in my investigation and now all I have are these strange notes by a student...I'll have to get more info about what these NT folks actually do. Something is wrong here... 17-12-08 Didn't feel well today, stayed in the house, reading...seems that these NT folks are into weird experiments, I'm slowly getting the hang on what the student is talking about in his notes... 18-12-08 One of my radios is tuned in to the police frequency and they do report more criminal activities in Dartside. Seems I have to prepare myself to be able to face any threats ahead and if I ever come across some of these sons of a bitch that would like to play their game with me, well, they will learn not to try it again. Back in the better days if someone tried to steel your money or whatever the only option was calling the police. That's not an option anymore to me however, because it doesn't change things at all. And as I wrote down in the beginning of this diary things have to change! Now I have a new job to do, but it isn't about fire, now I plan to go out every night and make the world sane again... Need to find some more cans and a bottle of whiskey, perhaps I'll go out shopping in a nearby Mall next days, but now I'm taking a nap first...I'm tired. Need to find a better place for me, too. Safe-houses...Pshaw! - what I need is a base of operation, even more than one actually. When I'll start my war certainly many people will try to be close on my heels...will have to make sure that I can switch locations quickly and don't lose time searching a new safe place when I start attracting attention. Until that I'm going to keep a low profile...