User:Envy5
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Envy5 is not a newb anymore. Envy5 lives in Australia, he is able to be a bit of a ninja (devious backstabber) and try and rough zombies up while they sleep (do zombies sleep?). Envy5 is a level 41 military who started (22-7-09 at 3:06:27 Aus Time) and is currently carrying (subject to updates): Unknown. His current location is (subject to updates): Waterlow Police Department, Hollomstown, Malton. His current abilities are (subject to updates): Everything except for the Brain Rot Tier. His current experience is (subject to updates): Over 1111 His kills (subject to updates): 189 His deaths (subject to updates): 11 Kill to death ration (in that respective order, subject to updates): 189:11 Peace and Envy
Well, I started off in a privileged house in Sydney, born to a well-to-do family. I was far from spoilt. My family was rather uptight with the money they had, so I didn't really get what I wanted all the time, and for a good reason too, I acknowledge that. However, when I went to the Scots College (with a full Scholarship, being the bright lad that I was), where tuition fees cost more than $25000 AUS a year, I began to wonder why I didn't get gourmet sandwiches and better pies from the tuckshop. I began to question the logic of sharing, scabbing (taking food and money from kind-hearted people with their reluctant permission) and stealing. I realized that I was what you would know as envious, after looking up the seven sins, and decided not to share anything I had. After graduating from the College, I decided to head to the prestigious Malton University to continue my work in Commerce/Law. I served in the Australian Army briefly; by the time I reached the rank of Sergeant, I acquired vital survival skills (which I have not used in ten years). I then returned to Malton to finish my degree in Law, which I did with ease. I got a job in the MaLawyers Association (which had an office/residential branch in the Lavis Building in Hollomstown). At first, I was relegated to the most trivial cases. One such was that of Aleister Curton, who complained that one of his rival businesses was hiring dog handlers and that their dogs were excreting inside his business. The judge dismissed the case, saying that Aleister should just put up a sign saying "No Dogs" up. It took a while to get a serious client, and when I did, it was a little firm called Necrotech, which I dismissed as a failure, too far-fetched to possibly be successful. During one of their court cases, I was arguing for the morality of reviving people from death and the benefits it would bring to friends and family of the deceased. While I was making my closing argument, the Necrotech spokesperson interrupted to say that the Curton family was interested in the concept of reviving past family members and had already donated over 10 million pounds to the cause. He then went on to say they had acquired permission from the Malton City Council to begin "controlled" experiments and acquire buildings and electronics to expand Necrotech. He pulled out a syringe filled with a blue liquid, claiming that this "little syringe contains the solution to death". As the defence lawyer was arguing the impact of Necrotech on the wider community, we started to hear sirens outside and screams. All of the court dismissed this as just an arrest until people started knocking on the door. Pounding, I think would be a more accurate word. Then, the door crashed in and dozens upon dozens of "people" burst in. I made a run for it, getting out the back door and evading these strange, crazed people. I reached my bike and I pedaled to the Lavis Building in Hollomstown, my home (I live on the 2nd floor, the residential bit). I noticed the new Necrotech office next door in the Angerstein Building, and thanked my lucky stars that my building hadn't been converted into a Necrotech building as well. I then headed to Waterlow Police Department, where I grabbed two pistols and a shotgun and strapped the pistols and ammo onto bandoliers, with the shotgun slung across my back. I decided to grab an axe from the Fire Station next door and a couple of the experimental syringes from the ruined Angerstein Building. And I almost forgot the DNA extractor! After a day's rest, I went to the Hospital in the general area and grabbed a couple of first aid kits. Storing them in my briefcase, I decided to go out to see how the rest of the suburb was doing. I arrived at St. Piran's, where I prayed and prayed for a God who had helped me and who I hoped would help everybody else. Ironically enough, a mob of "people" dived in and pulled me from the altar before smashing my head against a pew, biting me and clawing at my head. I tried shooting at them, but I only hit one of them and there was not much damage at all. Before I thought everyone in St. Alfred's got released or something, only later did I understand that these things were the products of the top secret experiments started by Necrotech. Soon enough I was unconscious, and a young man came in and threw my body out into the cold. I remember waking up, moving to the cemetery, and walking among the graves; I got a sort of eerie feeling as I realised I was probably going to die, before falling to my knees and collapsing. The days after that I do not remember. I do remember opening my eyes and seeing a dark-haired woman** with a syringe standing over me. I also remember standing up later, feeling sort of groggy, then realising I had been dead for four days when I checked my watch. I started to wonder who had saved my life, and then I tried to remember who I was. I had completely forgotten! I can only remember that I was envious. Envy5 was born. I looked around for a while, labouring under an infection; it didn't take me long to find a group of happy women and men playing strip poker and drinking lots of beer. Some of them I recognised from seeing them around town, but I immediately saw my saviour. She was stripped down to her underwear and was laughing profusely. I asked if I could join them and have some iodine. She was so drunk she didn't recognise me. She thought I was trying to hit on her. "I'm a lesbian pirate, you see? Arrrr...", she said, grabbing a pirate hat from a tough looking guy with an eyepatch and a tag saying "Rubin". I told her that I understood. I didn't. I'm pretty good at Twister (being the flexible, beefy, Aussie-Army type) and thought I could easily beat them. I found out how wrong I was the hard way, thanks to the stunning Ashate. I was soon stripped down to my boxers. On my next try, I was completely outmatched by Gina Semple (who still had her pants and t-shirt on). I had drunk so much beer I was soon rolling on the ground as I tried to pull off my boxers to no avail. Someone female shouted: "Take them off, big boy!" and everyone broke into laughter. By midnight, I was snoring my life out beside other partygoers. The next day I had a hangover, but it wasn't half as bad as I thought. I could still talk, after all. And talk I did. I asked a nice-looking guy called Paddy where he was from, and he said Danversbank. I mentioned my old school, but he had no idea what I was on about. I then asked a chap called Firebug (nice name, huh?) about the group in general. Although he was only half awake and hungover to bits, he managed to to mutter: "DRRP ... HARD ... Friends". After thanking him, I talked to the woman who had saved me, thanking her for reviving me. She told me it was fine, that she'd revived hundreds since the outbreak. I then asked her about the outbreak, and she confirmed my theory. Realising how vulnerable I was praying alone at the church, I asked her if I could join the group. She was more than happy to initiate me. "I'm Marion Wells. Welcome to HARD." So here I am, killing zombies, healing and reviving pals and (trying to) improve the life of those around me, especially those in my group, HARD.
I talked to Dr Yep, who diagnosed me with anterograde post-traumatic amnesia. I still can't remember my name. |
