# The Devil's Disciples (Action)



## Otep (Mar 18, 2008)

David put out his daily broadcast in attempt to gather more survivors:

“If you’re still out there, welcome to our great war. We are the damned children of this world! I’m attempting to build a safe location for the survivors left in the god forsaken city but I need help. God no longer has us in his best interest, so let us become The Devil’s Disciples and start a new dawn.

If your willing to join the club, meet me in the financial district near the old water fountain that the military used as a last stand nine months ago…” His voice trailed off slightly as he took a shot of whisky. He rolled his neck to relax gave himself a false smile and continued.

“In other news, It’s a bright and sunny day out today with a good chance of blood and gore! For those of you who don’t want to get coagulated blood on your slippers, stay in doors and try to stay off the streets for the next, oh I don’t know, three hundred years.

This is David Spangler signing off and reminding you, Damn the day and pass the ammunition!”

He turned off the radio and pulled out his cigarettes lighting one as he grabbed his Saiga shotgun and left the warehouse. He doubted anyone would show up today, he started his broadcast about a month ago and not a soul showed, ever. 

About twenty minutes later, David arrived at his hiding spot. He could see the fountain from the old bank he slightly barricaded, the mannequin he laid out a few weeks ago in a chair facing the fountain still sat there. The long sleeve red flannel shirt, long black wig blue cap and a realistic toy gun completed the diversion incase things went sideways. 

David turned on the radio sitting next to the small mound of trash and cigarette butts and did a quick radio test. The speaker he buried in the mannequin’s chest worked fine. 

Now it was time to wait.
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*
All*: React to the broadcast and your arrival to the water fountain (which no longer works by the way, its just heavily stained with old blood and bullet holes)


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Grace stubbed out her cigarette and turned as the sound of the broadcast reached her ears. Crossing to where the radio sat she turned the volume down a little, less the noise attract someone or others less desirable to her location. 

She stripped her weapons down, cleaned them, and put them back together, all the while listening to the broadcast.

“If you’re still out there, welcome to our great war. We are the damned children of this world! I’m attempting to build a safe location for the survivors left in the god forsaken city but I need help. God no longer has us in his best interest, so let us become The Devil’s Disciples and start a new dawn.

If your willing to join the club, meet me in the financial district near the old water fountain that the military used as a last stand nine months ago…”

she pulled a battered map from the back of her pocket and lit a cigarette, up until York she had not smoked, never touched one, but since then, well she had started, It relieved the stress.

She looked around and found a old back pack, filled it with some supplies and began to head for the financial district, her sunglasses shielding her eyes from the harsh sunlight. It was not hard to miss the effects of the contaigon, and she stayed out of sight, in case any of them were about. Empty homes and empty shops, mostly looted. She supposed the panic had set in well and truely.

The radio broadcaster had said something about the militarys last stand, she really did not want to think about how many those poor bastards were facing. She walked for a while until she came to what was marked on her map as the financial district.

she made her way slowley through the district, her gun drawn and at the ready, sounds had her spinning round and cursing at the cans of drink that rolled across the street. It was wierd that she had not yet heard the sound of dogs, there were many barking back home, in fact when she had left York, dogs were running riot from the RSPCA centre and all across town. 

She had had one for a little while as a companion but she had lost him, she had woken up one day and he was gone. Where she did not know but then again she did not want to think about where. If this thing affected the animals too than no where was safe in her eyes.

She saw the fountain made her way towards it, moving behind cover each time. Ducking behind a van she took a pair of battered binoculars out of her back pack and looked through them.

It was the only fountain she could see so, she assumed it was the place. She could see the riddles of bullet holes in the stone work and the blood, so old it had stained the stonework where she was looking. She edged closer to the fountain but remained hidden, for all she knew that could have been an old broadcast.

Her arms sunburnt from her weeks of travel, her vest top the only thing she had left from her old uniform was covered in dust and black as her mood. Her blue jeans were dust smeared and her boots looked like they could do with a good polish. Her auburn hair was a mess and right now she thought what she would not give for a long hot soak in a bath.

Damn she missed having the little things in life that made it worth while, even her ritual bath night. She shook her head, settled behind a battered Ford and waited. The wait gave her time to think, think about why she had come here. 

When she had gone through Leeds, she found a plane going out, the last plane to leave Leeds Bradford, unfortunatly with the panic spreading, when it arrived at NYC everyone was told to remain aboard, that was until a sick passenger suddenly started munching his way through the cabin crew. She had grabbed a child and gone to get off when the child was wrenched from her arms by the mother. Grace had sworn at the mother and told her to come with her, before her horrifed eyes the mother took a chunk from the girls neck.

She had jumped from the plane and took off, it didn't matter where she went, she just had to get away from there. it wouldn't matter what she said to the US Marshalls either, pretty soon it wouldn't matter. She had watched the last plane from her homeland blown up to protect the US Boarders. Grace cursed and grabbing the only thing she had with her, a duffel bag with her weapons and former ID she headed off into the city.

that had been nine months ago, now she was here, sitting behind a battered Ford whatever this had been, waiting to see if the owner of the voice would appear...or if indeed anyone else would turn up.


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## Sangus Bane (Jun 17, 2009)

Jace had been observing the woman for a while now.

He had arrived only minutes before she did but instead of sitting down beside a car Jace had taken to the high ground.
The buildings around the fountain were damaged and it hadn't been hard to find a way inside of them.

''Ok, lass.'' Jace said out loud. ''You're no corpse, that's for sure.''
Govner, the little parrot that sat on his shoulder scratched behind his head, demanding attention from Jace.

Jace had left from Boston, his home town and planned on traveling to the Rocky Mountains, he came across a caravan of merchants however and decided to tag along, going further west.

Before he knew it he had reached the coast and he had been roaming the area ever since, looking to see if there was a place where he could settle down, if only for a while.

''She's quite the looker actually, isn't she, Govner?'' Jace asked the bird as he petted it and thus gave the bird the demanded attention.
Govner groaned, enjoying Jace's finger rubbing the bird's head.

''This must look really weird, or creepy.'' Jace told the bird. ''A grown man talking about an attractive woman he's spying on with his bird...''

Jace shook his head, tinking about the absurdity of the situation.

''Krah.'' Govner replied as he shook his feathers.
''I agree.'' Jace replied, ''No good staying up here if the party is down there.''He said, and he started to make his way down to the streets again, wanting to talk to the woman he had been observing.


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

"Crawl on me,Sink into me, Die for me Living Dead Girl!" Grace was singing to herself and then stopped when she reaslised what she was actually singing, "Now thats irony" She muttered.

Checking her watch, she took a bottle of water from her backpack and sipped some, she leant back against the wall, she was tired, she coudn't remember the last time she had a decent nights sleep, oh yeah, the night before she went on duty at Heathrow.

Was that really over 9 months ago? she had been snatching sleep where she could, thankfully her training had kept her alert, but even so eventually if she did not get some sort of sleep she would be no good to herself, or anyone else for that matter.

she closed her eyes for a brief moment than opened them again as the sqwark of a bird brought her around. Grabbing her gun she moved up and took aim over the bonnet, was that bird sitting on a shoulder?

A shoulder? "Oh hell!" She swallowed and aimed readied her weapon.


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## Otep (Mar 18, 2008)

David watched as a female showed up to the water fountain. The way she carried herself screamed cop; that self-righteous "I'm better then you" walk.

She ducked behind a car and shortly there after, she shouldered her SMG and pointed it at the high ground near by. David didn't even notice the second person until she did. 

"Sneaky little bastard..."

David strolled out of his hiding place, trying to appear harmless... "Well i dont mean to interrupt a lover's.... bird?" David noticed what appeared to be a parrot.

"Keeping that bird for dinner buddy?" David smiled slightly at the remark.


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Grace swung her SMG at the new arrival, her eyes narrowed a little as she heard him speak. Maybe it was force of habit or something that she just never forgot but she got her old Warrant card and slipped it over her neck, letting it hang and swing open to reveal a picture that seemed alien to her now and the badge of the Metropolitan Police, her MP5 still trained on the two men.

"Maybe one of you two lads would care to tell me whats going on?" She asked, her Yorkshire accent heavy and she slightly moved round the Ford "Or did i walk in on the bromance?"

She eyed the bird on the other mans shoulder and got a good look at both of them, One looked a bit younger then her wearing mostly black she noticed, although a second look told her that the cargo trousers he wore...not trousers pants, she was in America after all....were a dark green in colour. The last time she saw a build like that on a guy, she was in London watching a Harlequins and Saracens Rugby match.

The other man was tall with brown hair and torn blue jeans, he wore a pair of black boots and a black t-shirt with a leather jacket that to all intense and purposes looked like it had seen better days. Even though she relaxed a little she still kept her weapon raised, she had been duped before and nearly lost all she had left from her previous life when a bunch of not so good samaritans had tried to steal what she had when she came through some small town nine weeks ago, somewhere near 'Cisco, her Taser had been more than a godsend then.

She arched an eyebrow and waited.


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## Septok (Jan 21, 2012)

Dr Zedham was sitting quite happily in a happy little café a few miles from home, grazing on some scones he made. The process had been hard, given he had to kill the (now ex-) proprietor again, find ingredients and choose the right kind of tea to have with it, let alone find the cream and jam. Not a good start, but nice scones. A few zombies had walked past the window, seemingly repelled by scones and good tea. That or they were more interested in eating the carpenter chap who had had the misfortune to fall from his vantage point.

Then the radio began to blare, and the zombies turned around to him. Drawing his Glock, he began to fire on the approaching horde. A few shots later, and the shambling lot had decided the carpenter was a much easier meal. Gerald paid attention to the radio. 

“If you’re willing to join the club, meet me in the financial district near the old water fountain that the military used as a last stand nine months ago…” The radio said. Sounded like a plan.

---------------

The journey had been enjoyable enough, having taken a few scones along which soon ran out. He had a few stored in his pockets, but he knew he was running low. Maybe there were scone dealers in the apocalypse? Hopefully. The rest of the journey had been quiet, save for the sound of a zombie, one that clearly used to be inbred, chewing loudly on a severed arm, drooling all over the street. He just walked past it; it probably didn’t notice him at all.

Then, when he reached the fountain, he came across a woman toting an SMG, a man with a parrot and a leather-covered brute. Much like the asylum.

“Sorry for interrupting this clearly friendly situation chaps, but could anyone direct me to this ‘Devil’s Disciples’ group? Sounds like a spiffing bunch, honestly, and I believe my scone quest would benefit from their aid.” He shouted to the ensemble, clearly incapable of reading the situation.

“I do not think you look like the kind of people who eat others’ arms in an attempt to become sparkly inbreds which should never have existed, so I feel that one is safe in asking you for directions, if it’s not too much to ask.”


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## Otep (Mar 18, 2008)

David shook his head as a third individual strolled up with what he considered a British blue-blood accent.

"Two brits, and a bird man... well I guess beggers can't be choosers now a days." David slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"Well, I'm amusing your all here due to my radio broadcast, I'm David Spangler your local Devil's Disciples recruiter... now that you know who I am who the hell are you bright and sparkling lot of people?" David took a long drag of his cigarette as his hand rested slightly on the grip of his pistol.


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## Sangus Bane (Jun 17, 2009)

"The bird isn't meant as food, friend." Jace told as he holstered his pistol. Trying not to agitate the woman, who was clearly on her guard.

"A man gets lonely on the road." He said, brushing the wing's of Govner.

The others seemed a bit awkward at John's remark. 
"Govner is a companion." Jace eventually elaborated. 
"Not enough meat on him anyway." Someone remarked.
Govner just shifted a little, nervous due to the presence of so many humans all of the sudden.


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Grace lowered her weapon and taking a cigarette from her jeans pocket lit it. 

"Grace Penhaligon, formerally Metropolitan Police CO19, now...well i dont know what" she leant back against the Ford and then pushed herself onto the bonnet. She kissed two of her right hand fingers and placed them against her dragon sleeve tattoo, she always did this when she found herself in a more desirable posistion. 

She was pleased to see the other guy, a fellow Brit, this was good, she suddenly had a sense of well home, even if they were both thousands of miles away from home, it was nice not to be the only brit here.

She saw Davids hand rest on something so, more out of habit she rested her hand on her taser. 

"So," She added nodding at the other brit in greeting "what now?"


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## Sangus Bane (Jun 17, 2009)

"So, what now?" The woman called Grace asked.

Jace looked at David.
"Are there more of you, these 'Devil's Desciples'? Or do you have a place nearby where we will be save from the Corpses?" Jace asked.

Govner shifted and for a second Jace thought the creature was warning him about something.

Jace' left hand went for the hilt of the katana on his back but he halted all movements when he saw the others tighten their grip on the weapons.

"I think we're all a bit on edge here." Jace said. "Maybe I should introduce myself as well."

Jace let go the hilt of his sword and took on a more relaxed stance.
"My name is Jace, Jace Aberazz." He introduced himself. "Survivor since day 1 and self proclaimed weapons smithing genius. Pleasure to meet you all."


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## Romero's Own (Apr 10, 2012)

Jake swung and the heavy head of the war hammer shattered the skull of the zombie, leaving nothing but a headless corpse and a cloud of red mist. Staggering forwards Jake burst once more into the sunlight. Looking back towards the almost pitch black corridor 
Jake hesitated, eyes straining for any sign of followers, but there was nothing.

He turned and set off down the road, walking quickly and purposefully down the middle with his eyes scanning the surrounding buildings. He silently cursed the crazed survivor that had woven the tale of a safe haven. America was many things. But a haven from the undead hordes was not one of them. In fact Jake hadn’t seen another surviving human since he had got here.

But his thoughts were pulled back to reality by a distinct sound coming across the still air, the sound of human speech. Jake paused, looking around for any sight of survivors and again he heard conversation. That meant there was at least two other survivors nearby. Jake set off at a hurried walk and, coming around a corner, spotted a huddle of figures. Jake called out and waved a hand, a hand that still grasped his war hammer.


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Grace span round to see the new arrival greet them all and lowered her sunglasses to the mid of her nose as she saw the bloody war hammer.

"Someone had some fun" she said to no one in paticular, but once again raised her SMG, just in case the warrior had been bitten or scratched, it was amazing how fast people became dead heads.....dead heads....now where had she got that from? old film maybe? it didn't matter, because as much as she wanted to believe that this was a nightmare and that she would wake up, drive to York and visit her family to see them all there she knew she wouldn't.

This was reality and it was a poor joke of one too. Her eyes widened a little and taking aim fired, straight past the war hammer wielder and between the eyes of some dead woman that had been coming up behind him.

"Can we go home now?" she asked lamley


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## Septok (Jan 21, 2012)

The hostility cleared up faster than Gerald had expected. Strange how people become so different in the apocalypse. That, or how quickly he had forgotten human nature in that time. He quickly remarked on the ugliness of those blokes on the floor, all bloodied and seeping pus. Shouldn’t have become zombies. 

"Well, I'm amusing your all here due to my radio broadcast, I'm David Spangler your local Devil's Disciples recruiter... now that you know who I am who the hell are you bright and sparkling lot of people?" Spoke the parrotless man, obviously the guy who organised it all. 

Several others introduced themselves: Grace, an ex-cop; Jace, some kind of warsmith. Seemed capable people, if a bit dangerous. Then it came his time to speak.

“Tally ho to all, Dr Zedham here. Qualified Doctor and scone fanatic. So, when’s the next tea break? I haven’t had a drop for over an hour. You see, I live on tea and scones. It’s good stuff.”

Then he noticed someone in the distance, in armour that certainly would shine if it hadn’t been sprayed on. Waste of a good suit of armour, Zedham thought.


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## darkreever (Apr 3, 2008)

_“God-dammit! Where the hell am I in this fucking city?”_ Brian mumbled to himself as he peered around a corner to look for some sign about where he was. Forget not knowing where he was, why was he even here? In all these months he hadn’t been able to find anyone he had sought, for all he knew they were all gone and it was just him. Maybe that had brought him to the other end of the country, be somewhere without the potential for memories or something.

Not finding anything that could help him, Brian just shrugged and crept onward; keeping an eye out for any sign of movement, be it human or other. Other, now that was a crock of shit; they were zombies plain and simple, the dead returned to life and all that. He had seen them here and there, but engaging the formerly dead was little different than killing another person, best to be avoided like a plague if possible.

A few minutes of looking in broken windows and doors provided nothing. If he was being honest with himself, a decent shop wouldn’t be too bad a find today; maybe be able to get some new contact solution. Of course that was before the young man spotted movement at the other end of one store or office. Looked like two or three people near some sort of fountain, but who they were or what they were saying remained a mystery to Brian. Carefully moving forward through the building, Brian could make things out a little better; there was some burly biker, an older woman and man, and some looney hefting a giant hammer. The glint of guns and what might have been a sword was less than promising, definitely people to not mess with that was for sure.

*"Well, I'm amusing your all here due to my radio broadcast, I'm David Spangler your local Devil's Disciples recruiter... now that you know who I am who the hell are you bright and sparkling lot of people?"* The burly guy called out to the other gathered people, to which Brian silently cursed his luck. He had heard this nut on radios for several days now, god alone knew what the fucker thought he would accomplish if anyone showed up, let alone turned out to have a problem with him.

Then the others deigned to answer him the woman claimed to be a cop of some sort, but unless she was English that had moved here that sounded like a load of crap. There was another Brit, who definitely had a screw or two loose; then there was the big man with the hammer who had said nothing and a fourth man with a bird on his shoulder. Right, this was definitely not a lot to be screwed with; though if Spangler had a place then he would have supplies, or be near a place that had them. So if anything it might be worth following these people, see what could be found and maybe let them attract any trouble in the area; better than coming across it himself after all.


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Grace rubbed her temple and stared into the rusty coloured fountain, she wanted away from here and if the one called David had gathered them then he obviously had something up his sleeve. 
Devils Disciples, sounded dangerously like a cult to her, but then whose to say what was right or wrong in this day and age? Nine months ago she was an armed police officer serving at Heathrow Airport protecting her nation and the passengers that came to visit her homeland. 

Nine months ago a plane crashed into the Terminal 4 concourse and in that moment everything changed. She had gone home to try and see if her family was alright, only to discover her sisters Erin and Ashley munching on thier parents. She still had nightmares about that. 

She had tried to help The North Yorkshire police keep some order but that had not worked either, pretty soon the dead were outnumbering the living. She had gone to Leeds Bradford, managed to get the last flight out, asked by the Captain to act as an air marshal. 

She was not even sure that America would let them in, they were pretty strict about that sort of thing in this sort of event....bio hazard would be a better word....but there were American Citizens aboard Flight VA543 to JFK, the last ever plane to leave England. 

Whilst the toff was talking and the guy with the hammer was slowley making his way over she ran it all through her mind. As she had looked through the window she could see people spilling out onto the runway, stampedes of wild animals was all she could think eager to get to the last planes, but it was not to be, as the Virgin Airways, Lady of the Isles took off the dead followed the living.

She had thought to find her mothers family in the States, but that had gone awry, the situation was worse at JFK then it was at Leeds and she had been the only one to escape the carnage on the plane. Sometimes she still saw the mother eat her child. She had vanished into the city, making her way by hitch hiking or taking a left car to Baltimore. She had not seen her uncle and aunt in a good ten years, but when she eventually got to their home they too were dead. 

She could not go home, she had no home to go to, no family she was all alone. Nine months ago the world had gone to hell and this was all that was left. Humans fighting to survive against thier own kith and kin. The last World Service news she had heard was that the UK was decimated, communities that had survived the initial outbreak were gating thier communities, anyone who did not belong, were run out or killed to prevent infection.

from what she had seen as she travelled across the states, that was pretty much true here too. So, this David fella, well whatever he had in mind he had better make it quick, because being in the open after the rukus the guy with the hammer might have caused and her shooting the undead woman, fuck that was going to bring trouble.

And why was it she had the unnerving feeling they were being watched? She couldn't see anything or anyone but the feeling was there never the less, and it made her feel edgy again


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## Sangus Bane (Jun 17, 2009)

The man with the hammer had something intimidating to him, but perhaps it was the hammer...

Out of nowhere an undead appeared behind him, ready to strike.

Before Jace could even draw his pistol Grace had fired a round and killed the zombie.
Again with the 'killed'... 
They were already dead, and you can't kill the dead. They weren't exactly living either.

'Put down', that was probably the best way to describe the killing of a zombie.
During the past months he had come across many bands of traders, raiders or other survivors and each group had their own name for the formerly living;

Zombies, Undead, Hollowmen, Corpses, Deamons, Living Impaired, Walkers, Uglies, Rotten, Soulless and several dozen more.

Yet they all meant the same thing: *the enemy*. For that was what they were.
It was a war, a war for survival, one that didn't follow the rules of engagement or human right acts.

Everything was permitted...


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## Romero's Own (Apr 10, 2012)

The show made Jake jump and he clenched his trusted war hammer as he glanced at the smoking barrel of the woman’s gun. She looked to professional to miss and, as Jake hadn't been shot to his knowledge, he turned and saw the undead lying face down on the road just a few metres behind him. He cursed himself for letting his guard down as he finally reached the group. 

He opened his mouth to thank the shooter but, after noticing her shifting eyes, lowered his voice and spoke softly.

“Thanks. My name’s Jake Murphy. What’s yours? And more importantly, where did you learn to shoot like that?”


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Grace shook Jakes hand "originally Hendon, then Gravesend in Kent and...other places" 

She glanced around her and up at the buildings and scratched the back of her neck then shook Jace's hand and even tickeled the parrot behind its head.

"Had a dog with me when i was in Wakefield, woke up one morning to find her gone so i guess she found someone who needed her more."

She turned to the one called Zedman, "Hi Doc like the threads and did you say scones? Not had a decent one of them since....well since before i left the homeland" she looked David up and down. 

"Maybe it would be a good idea if we got out of the open, so if you have somewhere to go then now would be a good time"


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