User:Envy5: Difference between revisions
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"I'm Marion Wells. Welcome to HARD." | "I'm Marion Wells. Welcome to HARD." | ||
So here I am, killing zombies, healing and reviving pals and (trying to) | So here I am, killing zombies, healing and reviving pals and (trying to) improv(e/ing) the life of those around me and especially in my group, HARD. | ||
*Some bits have been changed or made up. My bad. | *Some bits have been changed or made up. My bad. |
Revision as of 11:25, 30 January 2010
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): 129 His deaths (subject to updates): 11 Kill to death ration (in that respective order, subject to updates): 129:11 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, 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 different pies from the tuckshop. Being generally athletic, and intelligent I began to question the logic of sharing, scabbing (taking food and money from kind hearted people with their reluctant permission) and stealing. I decided not to share anything I had and that I was what you would know as envious, after looking up the seven sins. After graduating from the College, I decided to head to the prestigious Malton University to continue my work in Commerce/Law, before taking up the Australian Army briefly (where I reached the rank of Sergeant), where I acquired vital survival skills (which I have not shared 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, and one of my cases was that of Aleister Curton, who was complaining that one of his rival businesses was hiring dog handlers and 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 considering a little firm called Necrotech, which I dismissed as a failure, being to far-fetched to possibly have success. In one of the court cases, I was arguing about the morality of reviving people from death and the benefits it would bring to friends and family of the deceased. While I was making this final speech, the Necrotech spokesperson stood up and said 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 how 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, until I reached my bike, where I pedalled to the Lavis Building in Hollomstown, my home. I noticed the new Necrotech next door, the Angerstein Building, and thanked my lucky stars that my house hadn't been converted into a Necrotech building. I grabbed two pistols and a shotgun from Waterlow Police Department and strapped the pistols and ammo onto bandoliers, with the shotgun slung across my back. I then decided to grab an axe from the Fire Station next door and a couple of syringes from the ruined Angerstein, after much searching. And I almost forgot the DNA extractor! After a days 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 I hoped He 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 and then 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 now did I understand that these things were the products of the top secret experiments started by Necrotech. After all, Soon enough I was dead unconscious and a young man came in and threw my body out into the cold. I remember waking up and moving to the cemetery, Walking among the graves, I got a sort of eerie, and odd 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 a little bit of opening my eyes and a blonde 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 as I read my watch. I started to wonder who had saved my life, and then I tried to remember who I was. That was it; 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 and 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 the 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...", 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 and beefy and Aussie Army type) and thought I could easily beat them. I found out how wrong I was the hard way, in the shape of the stunning Ashate. I was soon stripped down to my boxers. On my next try, I was completely outstretched 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. It was about midnight, I was soon 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 Scotland. I noted my old school. He had no idea what I was on. 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." I thanked him and talked to the blonde woman who had saved me and thanked her for reviving me. She told me it was fine, she'd revived hundreds ever 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) improv(e/ing) the life of those around me and especially in my group, HARD.
I talked to Dr Yep, she diagnosed me with anterograde post-traumatic amnesia. I still can't remember my name. |