User:Frostbreath
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Happy Birthday |
| This user was born on November 17th |
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Newgrounds |
| This user is a Newgrounds member. |
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Swedish |
| This user is Swedish. |
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Malton Citizens Broadcast |
| This user or group follows the Radio Transmission Conduct Protocol |
My name, is Emil
Quiet, i'm thinking
This is where I, Emil Eklund (aka, Frostbreath), post about things that i think about and find important. I've taken alot of my time to write this down, so please read it OR SO HELP ME GOD!
Flooded by... sausages
Now here's something i've been thinking about lately. Why in the name of Zeus are 99.9% of the current population in Malton males? Where have all the women gone? Did Malton contain such hot chicks, that the governemt was forced to evacuate every single one of them? It doesn't make any sense. How are we supposed to reproduce ourselves? Since it's virtually impossible to kill all the zombies once and for all, we'd have to make babies in order to keep fighting. Oh, the few women that are left will have a busy couple of years ahead of them. These women, are the true heroes of this war.
Suicide city
Oh wouldn't you just love to jump out of a 10-story building, fall on the pavement, and then just stand up, brush the dirt off your shoulder, and then walk away like nothing has happened? Well, of course, now you have an odd lust for the grey substance inside your best friend's skull, but the important thing is that you still can walk. Hopefully to a cemetary, where you'd get revived. You stand up yet again, and wonder what now then?. Well, you could always jump off the roof of a building again.
Frostbreath's Karma
-GOOD
Usually try to show his fellow players the good side of himself, by healing, reviving (if a syringe is at hand) and apologizing for bad behaviour. IF however someone would try to be a naughty boy and start being offensive, expect to get sprayed by the .12 gauge until your ass is turned into swiss cheese.
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Mr. Rogers Style! |
| This user or group supports and follows the Mr. Rogers policy. |
Accounts
Proud to say that none of his account is worse than level 30... for now. I might create another one.
The Story
- Frostbreath (34)
Always carrying a small bag of breathmints, it's only logical how Emil got his nickname. Although it's not uncomfortable for anyone to talk to him face to face, it's hard to miss the chilling breath when he talks.
Emil was on a business trip through Malton when suddenly his car simply died. He left the car at Lovell Auto Repair, and rented a room at the Batt Arms for the night.
At approximatly 3:00 am, a large siren sounded. He rushed to the dresser and began to clothe himself. He then put his .357 Magnum under his vest, and his First Aid Travel Kit in his backpack. Beacuse he knew what the siren meant. Trouble. He rushed outside to find out exactly what was happened. He grabbed onto the nearest person he could find and asked him. The person stared blindly at him, and then suddenly threw his hand against him and ripped his shirt open. Emil backed away, and couldn't believe his eyes; It was the living dead! Emil fired all of his rounds into the body of the poor being, but he kept on going. Emil then heard a voice saying : Quickly! In here!. With his last efforts he jumped through an open window, with another man quickly slamming the window shut and nailing some boards over it.
- Who are you? i asked.
- I'm Matt Guthrie. I'm running this small group of survivors called Newgrounds. We have a few zombies as well, but don't worry, they won't harm any of us. You don't happen to be a member of Newgrounds.com, do you?
- As a matter of fact, i am. And i'll be glad to join up with you guys.
- Welcome aboard! Let me show you around...
- Patricier (40)
Story for Patricier coming soon...
