120 Days of Amber

Technically we missed that mark around 40 days ago and I've been murdering for 133 days, so the title although it sounds pretty is somewhat meaningless except on my 120th day murdering the citizens of Malton, I once again delighted in the death of an innocent.

And who better to declare my business in Gibsonton to than the leader of the Gibsonton Defence Alliance?

He didn't seem very enthusiastic when I revealed my plans to him.


The very next day, I made haste to the nearest Police Department to meet up with ihall4. We exchanged words. I'm afraid I overwhelmed him.


Doxxist soon followed suit. I tend to have that effect on people. It can be rather irksome. Good thing I'm not easily stressed. I retired to a library in the center of town to sleep a while.

The next day I decided to do a bit of a pub crawl. Of course, whenever I go pubbing these days it really feels like I'm slumming it. There are so many obnoxious drunks in Malton. It was hardly surprising when I encountered Kurt Wells who claimed to be the "Zombie terminator." I decided to perform a little experiment.



It fried his circuits.



Just more evidence for my theory: Robots should avoid paradoxes, water and "wuv" whenever possible. I think he'd be much better company as a zombie to be honest.

It was back to business as usual the next day. I encountered Officer Murphy in Skarin Row PD.



Nothing like the feeling you get after killing a cop.



Wyzeguy6 was next up.

One would expect from his name that there was a little more going on upstairs than the stupid look on his face revealed.

But one would have been mistaken.

I sat down and sighed. I felt like I was spinning my wheels. Here I am in the company of Malton's finest killers and gentlemen and I'm bored. It could be that I was feeling somewhat stiffled. I'm usually very independent. I'm not used to taking orders. DORIS is a great group and indeed, Lockettside was some of the most fun I've had since coming back to Malton. And although our priority targets are Imperium and DA we're absolutely free to shoot whomever we deem fit (even fellow rummers, though this should go without saying.) But this war is tedious. To be honest I imagine the fact that I'd not died since coming to Gibsonton had a little more to do with my boredom. Not at the hands of anyone that mattered anyhow. Finis took a shot at me with the same old line he used last time and is apparently still stalking this blog, afraid to leave a comment, but he barely registers. If all the Imperium can do is rely on zergs and spies to fight their wars for them it isn't surprising that I was getting bored. It started to feel like I was killing retarded [space] monkeys. So I decided to step outside and take in some fresh air and a nice long nap in the cemetery on my way up to Dulston. Of course I didn't expect to find much action up there either. But a change of scenery was desparately needed.

I dragged my rotten self up to the fastest revive point in Dulston. It was here that I encountered a couple of rather antisocial zombie hunters, Adelaire and MushRoom002. Seems they weren't aware that shooting zombies at revive points or outside is bad etiquette.

It wasn't too long before I got a revive though. The mid-day summer sun and a lovely shady tree made for excellent sleeping conditions and before I knew it, I was restored to full health and ready to jam with MushRoom.

I decided to share a poem with him that I had been working on before nodding off.

He started to freak out. As it turned out he was having a rather bad trip.


Let that be a lesson to you kids: don't take what you can't handle.

I headed back to Gibsonton the next day. I still had a little to get out of my system before I went back to targetting Imperium (or what was left of them.) Some long pig was exactly what I needed.

A sprig of Rosmary and maybe some garlic. Season with cracked pepper, maybe a little sea salt...


Hey, I'm not above a little cannibalism when the mood takes me. Sure there were more in there I could have killed. But my enthusiasm had returned. I wasn't even in Gibsonton so I decided to let sleeping townies lie and save my bullets for more worthy targets.

It was a rather wise choice. The next day I didn't have to travel far to find a friend from Pitneybank.

Good Bub is a cancer, he likes long walks in the cemetery, headshots and women with massive...

Guns. He also takes a keen interest in the zodiac.

It's true astrology is bullshit. I'm a Taurus and I'm supposed to be compatible with Cancers. I mean really, how compatible do we look?

Okay, he's not Imperium. But it was absolutely necessary that Good Bub died. I expect I'll be doing a little more hunting bounty hunters after this Gibsonton business. Hell, I'm not above a little bounty hunting myself as Hackslide discovered.


IMPERIUM ARE MURDERERS? It's more likely than you think. At least I had a decent reason to kill him. The knave had the nerve to shoot the lovely leggy Le Penseur of the Philosophe Knights and the Convivial Canderous Ordo one of the founding members of DORIS. Hempknightcc however just got in the way of my gun...while I was shooting it...

Repeatedly...

So did Dead Dennis Morre...


HK 47 was quick to respond to my commands and hastily dispatched with JayDepp in my wake. I gave him a lube job as a reward.

And so the war rages on. It is unknown how long this conflict will continue or whether Malton will endure in it's wake. The good news is that Duke is back from a rather long er...nap and in fighting form I might add. Tonight he managed to kill 3. Two in Cattle Bank and another in St Matthew's Cathedral. So at least I've got some company now. I may stay on in Santlerville for a little while afterwards, though I am starting to feel Pitneybank calling me back once again. I need to dedicate a few weeks to really see the sites and get comfortable. Especially after a lovely local girl by the name of Julius made me an offer through IRC that I simply could not pass up. I love orange julius.

From My Cold Dead Hands

The last few weeks have been a blur. Apologies to those who have been visiting to find that I've not updated. I have been rather busy though. Unfortunately, my camera has been running low on juice for the last few weeks as well. I did however manage to grab a few shots from friends and security footage.

After my dear, sweet Faico planted a bullet in my head, I wandered south. As far south as South Blythville as a matter of fact. It was aimless, fruitless searching. I lived as the undead; shambling from one town to the next in search of nothing in particular but a cold black ruin to sleep in and maybe a morsel of flesh to feed upon. I even visited the Homeland again briefly. Unfortunately, I was unable to appreciate Ridleybank as the Mecca for zombies everywhere as I still had this irresistable urge to breathe again.

My friends were north. I was south. I hadn't expected to find a revive for some time. My expectations however were completely off. It was only a day or so after I'd been killed that I found a revive in South Blythville and proceeded to Marven Mall to restock. It was there that I found elliotmess and Jauqes.



Of course, it's a line from a Clint Eastwood movie. One of my adoring public requested it...And naturally I was more than happy to deliver.


And then there was Jauqes. Yeah, that's another Clint Eastwood line, ripped directly from the horse's mouth.

I suppose he's not really that ugly...I mean, he's not beyond help. Maybe a beard or something...Well, I did what I could anyhow.

Shooting him in the face probably didn't do him any favors.

And so I wandered over to St Simeon's for a little nap.

The next day I wandered southward again, in search of some new faces to shoot. However, I found some old faces, one of which I greeted with some hot lead love and a little nibble on her ear. She's still a little annoyed about that. Hey! It'll heal! Besides, what kinda girl goes out without concealer?

I also stumbled across ProphetZ but I was stretched for time as I'd already been snitched on.

So I headed back north to St Simeons briefly. On my way I found a few injured survivors.

Too delicious to resist.


After a night's rest I was called by a friend down to Lockettside. The people of DORIS demanded satisfaction after the citizens of Lockettside tried to pry Charleton Heston's guns from his cold dead hands and ban guns from Malton. As a matter of fact, we still demand satisfaction.

I've been doing my bit. So far I've killed 10 to demonstrate the joy of guns. Nothing quite satisfys the soul like sound of a semi-automatic splicing through someone's skull. Ugh. I've been hanging out with Duke too much.

My first kill of open season in Lockettside, Humbert VonGikkingen, was treated to a recitation of this quote from the Heston: "People should bear arms, not arm bears," right before he died. Unfortunately I didn't get a picture of that, but I've promised the boys from Bowring Blackwatch 1 erotic massage to the bearer of gifs and or PNGs that feature me killing one of them (or anyone for that matter.) The offer is good for anyone really. But please understand that I am after mainly photo ops that I've missed.

Shortly after a random mall cop shot me. Apparently he's a bounty hunter who's a tad out of practice. More power to him I say. I'm still listed as Kill On Sight, incidentally, which explains why I've been killed so many times, so close to Tompson Mall this week.

Poor Raymond Davidson was second. Merely chance find on my way to handing over some drugs to some zombified friends...He was gasping and spluttering when I found him, so I decided to put him out of his misery.

I managed to grab a shot in the Cheeke Building where I murdered Moses Black.



And my fourth, fifth and sixth murders were nicely captured by Lewyn's lovely antique camera.

Agent Banks and romoisagod were another two that I missed. I made a lovely dedication to Pluto and everything. Of course, much like the master of chicanery himself, Aleister Crowly, it's mainly for show. While I support the populate and their ideals, I don't believe in any gods, as a disappointed fan (read:stalker) found out through internet relay chat a few days back.

It was after these couple kills, that I was MURDERED! Y'know, I think they're finally catching on! Well, except the one guy who hacked weakly at my foot for a bit, I think the message is getting through to these people.

Just to be sure, I wandered over to the mall and shot at the poor fool who's ignorant parents gave him what appears to be a serial number for a name. Naturally, I told him why he was getting killed. He bled on me a little and died. I proceeded to shoot at his pal, oinkler, but was bereft of ammunition and energy. So I wandered next door. My lovely manservent Giov was good enough to clean up, but he, like the rest of the populate, tends to prefer guns to cameras.

Lastly, but certainly not least, I had the pleasure of meeting an ex-rotter whilest restocking in the mall.

Afterwards, I wandered over to the north eastern corner of the mall to check out the hats on offer. I found a lovely black fur number. However, this was a careless move on my behalf as Kooky Mcspook had in fact risen shortly after I shot her and found me while I was trying on a deerhunter's hat for kicks. Such brutality...I must admit, I admire her tenacity. I only really seek vengence if I've got nothing better to do these days.

Leaping from the roof of Tompson, I made a quick escape to the Beer building, where a couple minutes later, one of Kooky Mcspook's friends from Bowring Blackwatch caught up with me. I recieved a needle from a nice corporate looking fellow a couple hours later.

So, my apologies to those who have been choming at the bit to hear what I was up to (I know there are at least two of you.) I've been holding off on this log due mainly to the lack of images as I was hoping some good samaritains would deliver some incriminating evidence to the proper authorities. But for some reason, the people of Lockettside seem perfectly content, or at least, apathetic about my killing spree.

So far it's 3 to 10. I'll see how I go this week, however I've word that the most militant, die hard (hard dead is perhaps more appropriate,) horde of zombies Malton has ever seen, is headed our way which means I may have to leave Lockettside quickly.