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The Unfortunate Journal of Dr. Drew

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First Entry, Date... to hell with this.

Alright then, here goes. Free tip for all of you survivors out there, if your older brother offers you lessons on piloting, take them. They just saved my life.

So, I was flying over Cherarus, cause I needed to get to Japan. Inclement weather, in the form of bullets of course, forced an emergency landing. And after a short jaunt through the woods, I could see I was lost in the dark. Didn't really matter though. Half the forest was on fire.

A quick look around told me I was somewhere near a Berenzwi... Berzin... we're calling it B-Town. Fuck these un-writeable names. So, in B-Town, I met a guy, who wasn't a walking cadaver, and he told me there was some sort of trading outpost. And after a short walk of fighting undead Axe Cop and Freeman style, I stumbled upon it.

Huge, well fortified, epic. Damn. Wish we had that in Ireland.

Inside, I met a man named Jess Newton. We chatted a bit, trading survival tips, and the best places to find GPS' and junk. He mentioned an airfield nearby, good place to find weapons.

It's 2 miles to the airfield, I'm really thirsty, just ate, have a hatchet and crowbar, it's dark and I'm wearing sunglasses. Like a tool.

Let's do this.

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// Oh well done! I love the voice, the references & the style. A++ would crowbar zombies with

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Entry 2, cause I lived.

Alright. Short entry for now, cause we got shit to do. Just made it to this airfield, and DAMN. Swarming with zombie soldiers. Dammit Jess, this better be worth it. Free tip number two though, nighttime makes you the stealthiest thing since Batman.

Entry 3, WORTH IT

Fuck yes. Love that airfield. I may have been viciously mauled, but that's fine. I found a AK!

Okay, here's how it happened. I crawled my way into the air control station or something, and found heaven. Two grenades. Hell yes. Continued on to the bathroom. Nice to see soldiers keep compensating while in the showers, cause guns. Everywhere.

Walking back now. Hopefully things will be uneventful. Wonder if Chernarus has any wildlife. Protip number three: AK rounds are everywhere. Nice to see everyone channeling their inner gun nut.

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Entry 4, Fuck is wrong with you, Chernarus?

Chernarus is a fucked up place. After making it back to the TP, I decided to help out the Free Medics, and in a moment of sheer idiocy, I decided to walk. Congratulations. Good luck finding your way without being able to read the signs.

A few hours later, and cue my dumbass self, starving and thirsty in the middle of the woods. I spotted a boar, and in the delusion that playing Far Cry makes me a survival expert, I took aim. Then reality bitch-slapped me HARD and the fucking thing gored me when I saw it. Fuck. I even saw a truck of some kind, hidden in some evergreens. But, my dumbassery came to save the day again, and I decided not to take it, nor anything in it.

You'd think I could come up with a better way of suicide, huh?

Well, I know if I do ever snap, I won't kill myself via hanging.

SO, I continued to walk, suffering internal organ damage for sure, and finally passed out when I saw smoke, thinking I had arrived at their base. Nope.

I awoke staring at the trees. Nothing odd about that, except that there were FUCKING LYNCHED PEOPLE still hanging from the branches. The fire? A MASS FUCKING CREMATION. Shit fuck!

I'm cold, wet, covered in blood, bruises and bile, and surrounded by corpses.

There is literally nothing good about that statement except that it confirms I lived to this point.

You're fucking welcome, truck owner. Tip of the day: Just... fuck you Chernarus.

(OOC: This thread has pictures of the place. http://www.dayzrp.com/t-horror-in-the-woods?pid=87575#pid87575)

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//I love it, though my character would be pissing herself. Good to bring in damage outside the confines of the game mechanic as well.

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Entry 4.5 I guess?, Nightmares.

Every time I look around, I'm brought back to that hellhole. And as bad as the hallucinations are, the dreams are even worse.

I'm hanging from a tree, like all of the others. We're slowly choking to death, and my lungs are burning, but my rope is rotted and weak. The corpses are maggot infested, writhing, screaming in agony. The ones in the fire are clawing, grasping at me, and the others are continuing in their blood curdling screaming. They say I killed them! Me?!

They grab and yank, still on fire, until, the rope gives. And then, at the moment before I fall, I wake up. Screaming usually.

On the bright side, I don't think I'm that hungry anymore.

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Entry 5, Home?

After the incident, which I spent way too much time thinking about, I headed north. My idea was, the FM base was near a lake, and north of me, so if I kept heading north, I would bump into a river and follow it to the base. Nope. But even better things happened.

I kept walking for miles, hallucinations plaguing me all the way. Then I saw it. The largest airfield I had ever seen. It was crawling with zombies, but to hell with them. So, after the most thorough search I could safely do, I walked away with a really cool gun. It was labeled the "Bison" something.

I noticed that the guy who gave me the map marked two red circles on my map, and like any bad horror movie protagonist, I went forward. Turns out, their some sort of abandoned military camp. Even better, the zombies all cleared out!

I might finally have a good nights sleep after all. And since this is a normal entry, even have a tip again. Tip number five: A zombie's attention span is the size of the bullet holes you put in them. Hide where they can't hit you, and eventually they'll leave.

Unless its a roof. They don't grasp height very well.

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Entry 6, Free Medics = UltraBros.

Those free medics. Epic people doing epic shit. Basically a moving GoodWill bin in Chernarus. Handing me out free shit for no real reason. Those dudes were awesome.

I made it to their camp after another bout of nightmares and day tripping, and bumped into two really cool dudes.

First was a guy named Nathan Strum. Tall, black hair, cool dude all around. Second man was an ex- military guy wearing a camo hoodie and balaclava named Sam. Seemed a bit childish at times, but all around badass.

After helping me get my new favorite gun (ITS AN AK IN SNIPER FORM OH HOW I LOVE THEE) and giving me some new clothes (cap w/ visor to keep sun out of eyes, Kevlar vest, etc.) Nathan diagnosed me with PTSD. His recommendation was for me to go back to the Trade Post. He thought some of the hallucinations were due to sleep deprivation, and said sleeping in the Trade Post would counteract the hypervigilance.

Whatever the hell that means.

They offered me a ride, and when I described what happened to me, Sam started to get a lot more serious and depressed. He told me to learn to laugh a bit more, forget my family is dead (they aren't) all sorts of stuff. Maybe hit a personal spot? Could be why he acts so childish at times.

They gave me a few hints as well. Mainly that I'd be better off waiting this out here. After all, Japan is an island, and if I try to land, they may just shoot me.

But I digress. After a pit stop gone awry (killed a bunch of zombies, found a camper van, the usual) we made it back to the TP. He gave me a bunch of pills for insomnia and some other ones called Paroxotine. Antidepressants.

Took a few pills for the headache, 30mg of Paxil for .. whatever reason he said, and had the best sleep I have had in fucking WEEKS.

Fucking love those guys. Tip of the day though. Don't get between Nathan and his car. There are safer ways to a hospital, one of which is asking them nicely.

(OOC: Shoutout to Nathan Strum and SamR171 (Rookie in game)for being RP awesomeness.)

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//Great! Entry 1 is the funniest ("like a tool" :P), but I like entry 4.5 the most. I love how these things actually happened, which is what I like so much about DayZ(RP).

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Entry 6, TP MADNESS!!!

I woke up from my nap with the sound of satanic singing, cacophonous screaming, and one guy who was really good at playing the harmonica.

You could tell, shits gonna get real.

After most of the people left, some Legionnaires started having an argument with some S-GRU soldiers. S-GRU was being a dick (go figure) and Legion was counter-dicking.

It's a word.

This went on for a while until one of the S-GRU people started pointing guns at the Legionaries. After finding out that the S-GRU guys robbed them, the Legion began to riddle the soldiers with so many bullet holes almost none of their equipment was salvageable.

Not gonna call S-GRU an idiot, but... math. They where out-numbered 7:2 at the least. Not a smart move to be dicks to everyone you see. Also not saying the Legion were cool people. One of them was a giant douche nugget (also a word), who missed every shot at the S-GRU guys because it was hard to see with her head shoved so far up her ass.

Or maybe it was a him. I dunno. They were a douche though. Aviator shades and everything.

So. After the random violence that is sure to bring back suppressed memories, some other guy and I spotted a unclaimed, unprotected car. We cracked open the trunk and BAM, guns. Everywhere. Like a traveling gun salesman. Which gave me an idea.

Nope. Not telling.

So, tip of the day. The Russian military needs to do background checks on their soldiers. See if they graduated elementary school.

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Entry 7, TO WAR.

I was walking through the woods to B Town when I spotted a flare. I headed in and there were a group of people talking about a huge horde of zombie cannon fodder heading this way. After chatting it up with them, I joined their little group to help fend off the horde. I thought it would be fun.

Yeah. My dumbassery exceeds even my own expectations.

Me, Tom (the leader), and a few others got stationed at the hospital. And shit got serious FAST. Within minutes, we had 5 dead. We abandoned our supply station, so Tom called us up onto the roof. Then even more bullshit happened.

An Osprey (what my new friend Charlie called it) flew over, dropping care packages everywhere. There were so many zombies we started to run out of ammo.

When the casualties hit 13, we got the hell outta there. Me, Deg (another cool dude), Lucia (also cool beans), Tom and Charlie all fell back to an office building in a lumber yard, and the rest of our group followed. We sat through wave after wave of zombies, with WAY too many close calls.

Including some tardass who should never be allowed to operate a rocket launcher again. You sir, have been placed on my shit list.

Eventually, the horde grew to a size we couldn't handle anymore. But another new friend of mine, Jukki, got a radio signal that a US Military evac was under way. Apparently, Jukki had a contact inside who was hired by them.

After a series of movie references (WE NEED TO GET TO DA CHOPPA! NAOW!) Lucia, Jukki and I hopped in. We thought we were leaving Tom behind, but it turned out that dude is made of iron. Survived the RPG incident.

The US soldiers took us to their battleship, and after a quick check for infection, kicked us out. Dicks. They said we were carriers, and although immune, could still infect the crew. So, they dropped us off at the TP, and I said bye to my new friends. Just... one thing I didn't get.

If they were worried about infection, why weren't they wearing hazmat suits? Something's not right.

So, it seems like Chernarus is my home for the time being. And tip for today: When the shit really hits the fan, the above mentioned people and everyone who helped out kick ASS. Next time, the zombies may want to bring an umbrella. We were raining death at 300 rounds per minute.

And lastly, a warning to the "US" because I'm feeling generous. Don't do anything stupid.

We don't die easily.

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Entry 8, Being a nice person helps you die. True story.

Why!?! Why did I just give away my ALICE pack? IT WAS SO DAMN USEFUL.

Like any bad RPG hero or good prostitute, I have a habit of doing anything anyone asks, so long as they ask nicely. I now realize that that mentality may get me killed.

But that warm fuzzy feeling is addictive dammit.

So, waking up once more in a slight haze (the insomnia pills have side affects, who knew?) I found the TP abuzz with chatter. Trading.. everywhere. Unsurprising, but a horrible thing to wake up to when you have a headache. So, after talking to some of the traders there, I found out someone needed a ALICE pack.

But he didn't have anything to trade.

So I gave, GAVE, my only ALICE pack to a stranger.

I'm gonna die if I keep being so hospitable. Tip of the day: Don't be me.

PS: Another doctor at the trade post said I need to get rid of some stress for the headaches. So the search for a pet begins.

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Entry 9, No luck

In anything really. I lost my old gun (MY PRECIOUSSSS) unfortunately, and then had the bad sense to make the most one-sided trade ever, simply because the guy needed help.

I traded my map and compass for some M1911 mags. And this entry isn't even HALFWAY done yet.

I then proceeded to give a TPD guy named Maximilian my only piece of bacon. In my defense, I thought I had more. Then again, you always think you have more than you actually do. It's why the worst sound you can hear while shooting at zombies is the click of an empty magazine.

But I digress.

I met Maximilian after the B-Town shootout, the one where we killed Russian zombies. Not the one where a dude dressed as a vaquero and I had a duel with revolvers and I lost. (I thought it would be fun at the time!)

He got grazed in the spine and got paralyzed. The FM guys said since it was a graze, they could patch him up easily. So, Max asked me to hold his Police Uniform for him, so it wouldn't get lost/ misplaced / used as a rag during surgery / pissed on by some nasty motherfucker.

So I held the uniform, waiting at the TP for his return. I held that thing for THREE DAYS. Three days of breaking every survival rule ever so a guy could get clothes. Was it worth it?

Well, from any logical perspective, no. Hell no. I have no food now. I'm going to die.

But, like I said before, I'm a pushover if you ask nicely. Max returned, put on his uniform and thanked me profusely.

But I'm still gonna starve. Fuck.

Tip number 9: Ask me for anything, and I'll probably do it. I am the worlds biggest wuss. Please don't abuse this. If you do abuse this, please find me a pet first. Chernarussians seem to loathe domesticated animals that live inside.

Also, I found out someone used a page from my journal as toilet paper.


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Entry 10, Help

Well, shit went haywire. Remember how the last post ended in a fit of random cursing and threats? Yeah?

Well that was toilet guy, who proceeded to write in graphic detail why he had to use my journal and such (apparently having both the runs AND being constipated, I'll spare you the details) and the dick bag managed to fill 6 pages in my book.

In addition, he also used almost all of the ink in my pen. So, I nailed this to the TP wall, in hopes that someone can give me a new one. I had to nail it with my hunting knife (as you can see) so I can't even use that for a few days.

What happened today? Well, I met a dude in a hazmat suit. Yep, that was pretty much it. Most of the time I was being the worst beggar in the world.

So, (possible last) tip of the day; always remember to b

(the rest of the note ends in frustrated scribbling with no ink, only indentations. He was apparently testing the pen for more ink.)

// OOC: I've decided to put in a new rule to this. Next time I die, I'll flip a coin. Heads, new guy; Tails, the Dr. lives. Hopefully not the end of this, but rules are rules.

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You find a recording device on a dead body in Elektro. Clutched in the corpse's hand is a note reading "Tip: Friends". The device has only one log on it. Curious, you lower the volume and press play.

*The crackle of static can be heard along with heavy breathing*

This is Dr. Andrew Leon, Entry 11, Audio Log.. OH FUCK...

Shit... I'm going to die. Alone... Why is it always alone... I.. walked down from the TP.. And FUCK...I .. I went looking for a pen.. charcoal... anything..

Now my fucking leg is broken, I'm bleeding out from a gash along my thigh... and they're everywhere... I am going to die... Please... some one help me... I can't see them.. but I know they're there... taunting me...

So.. I had a choice... I barred the door with my crowbar.... so instead of a vicious mauling... I could slowly bleed to death...

Talk about a Catch 22, eh?..... Let it never be said I didn't make a reference on my death bed... Fuck....

If you find this.. I'll probably be dead.... don't look for anyone else... I'm always alone... no one cares to go with me, no one cares about me..

But if I'm not... Please... Save me.. I'll do anything..

I don't want to die alone.

*The recording ends*

The zombie rises up and sprints towards you, and is quickly and silently dispatched for its trouble. For reasons unknown to all but you, you decide to leave the recording device there. You silently walk out of Elektro, contemplating the fate of this zombie until you make a sudden realization.

If his leg was broken, how did his zombie run at me?

A short trip back gives you an answer. Nailed to the wall is a sketch of a young man holding a hatchet over his shoulder, wearing a wide grin and a splint on his leg. Written under it in blood leaves a cryptic message:

He Lives

The audio log chirps one last sentence.

"What? You didn't think I could die, did you?"

(Results of the coin toss: Tails never fails.)

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"Audio Log of the amazing Dr. Drew, I survived.

Guess who's back kids? That's right, for a mere man may perish, but the legend never dies.

Status update? My leg is broken into many itty bitty pieces, and I'm running on willpower and waaaaay too much morphine right now. I can't feel what I'm doing to my leg, but I can tell you, it's gonna hurt like shit.

In addition, I lost my pills. So I'll just wait for the fucking hallucinations to kick in.

All of my guns are gone as well, so for the moment I'm pulling a Park Do-won. If anyone got that reference, I owe you a day of me being your humble slave.

So, my mighty Winchester and I are now strolling it through Elektro once more. I had to get my audio logger or whatever. I just want to get back to TP, but some idiot tried to mug me and my new mate Pendrake.

By the way, I met a guy named Pendrake. He's a lesser known actor from the 50's. Apparently, he was put into a coma in his 20's and just woke up. Randomly falls asleep at times.

So yeah, cool dude.

Anyway, the mugger pulled a gun on Pendrake, yelling at him to drop his crossbow. The dumbass didn't notice when Drake pulled the good ol' Ball in Cup shuffle and snuck his gun into his pack. Not like that matters, cause the tard realized the error of his ways, AKA Pendrake Punch, and found out gravity makes the ground hurt.

Two other bros, Kevin and.... shit I forget the other guy... they helped us escape the place. Sorry one of them got mauled.

So, now me and Pendrake, say hi dude, (Pendrake :Heeeeey!) are making the trek to the TP. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get rid of some zombies behind me. So Pendrake, if you would..

(Pendrake: Alright then. I've entered the dragon known as Chernarus, and although I've had my share of rumbles in the Bronx, this situation wasn't good or bad, just ugly. Even had to kung fu hustle my way out of that robbery back there. But don't worry. We'll make it out of this game of death. You cats better watch out, I've just been unleashed. Baby, Ong Bak.)

We'll stop with the martial arts movie references for now. This is your favorite theoretical physicist, signing off."

//OOC: This thread just broke 300 reads. So at least 6 people actually like this. SO MUCH HAPPS. TOO MANY JOY TEARS.

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//OOC: I'm not sure if I'll have time to play today, so here's an extra thing as an attempt to stall.

"Yeah, hold still Doc. You're gonna bleed to death."

"Wǒ kěyǐ ....kàn dào tiānkōng...... nian zhuàn!"

"You still talkin' that commie language, eh? Fuck... how much morphine did you take?!"

"Enough to help me sleep! So like.... one.... three.... all of it?"

"Shit. Doc...."

"I'm nooot a doctorr......I'm a physicist...... Why does everyone think I'm a doctor?!"

"Er... should you be running around like that? Your leg shouldn't bend that way."

"How the fuck should I know? I'm not a doctor. I'm high on morphineeeeee!"

"Aw shit.... oh fuck! The record machine's on!"

"Whaaaaat!? Wait wait wait.... This is.. Dr. Drew, third audio logger magic thing, or.... no it's the second and a half audio log!"

"What? Why?"

"That's how much bone is sticking out my leg! Half!"

"....This is Pendrake, signing off for my opiate addled friend here. Bye."

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" This is Dr. Drew, who still doesn't know the friggin date.

I need to find a new hobby. My current one, seeing how long I can last without painkillers before my leg really starts hurting probably isn't healthy. But what can I do?

Pendrake and I had to stop in the woods because of my injury, and I sure as all heck can't keep moving. In case you haven't noticed, I'm also trying not to curse as much. It's hard.

So, for now I'm stuck staring at trees, trying to keep my mind active so I don't start hallucinating again. I don't think it's working.

But, I did stumble across something profound last night. I figured out a sure fire way to determine if you are, in fact, a good person. Of course you think you are. But there are times I have had doubts about myself, and I believe others have too. So this test will verify if in fact, you do fit your own moral standards.

I had just woken up from another nightmare, but this time, it was new. I was running from a horde by climbing up a mountain. There, on the mountain, was everyone I have ever met since I landed here in Chernarus.

Pendrake, Lucia, Jukki, Deg, Tom, Jess, everyone. They were all climbing the mountain with me, no matter what we did, the horde kept coming closer. Due to a fusion of asthma and dream logic, I was closest to the horde. The others where cheering, egging me on to keep climbing, but I couldn't do it. Suddenly a choice formed in my head. A sadistic one, a cruel one, one that no matter what happened, I could not win.

But in only one, I could survive.

Without a moment's hesitation, I grabbed the person nearest to me, and threw them off the mountain. Lucia fell almost endlessly, a look of shock and complete betrayal in her eyes. Then there was screaming. It did not stop.

It then occurred to me that someone else was screaming. At the top of the cliff, a woman I had never seen before was sobbing, yelling at the top of her lungs. But that was not the voice I heard.

The voice I heard was mine. I had finally made the realization that I had just killed someone, someone who had put their trust in me, and someone who I didn't really know as well as I would have liked too.

And then the dream ended. I woke up, stopping myself from screaming just in time not to awake any zombies around. And now, I realize that I am not a very good person. I merely delude myself that I am.

You want to know if you are a good person?

What do you do in the depths of your mind, where no one can see or judge you but yourself?"

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"This is Dr. Drew again. I have arrived at the trade post.

My leg has been torn to shreds on the trip here. The gash has not been treated, nor bandaged, and I am fairly sure the bone is visible. I won't go into more detail that that, I wouldn't want to upset the others at the tradepost. Aside from that colossal DOUCHE singing. HE can go writhe in a pit of flaming rabid cancer puppies for all I care.

I realized my recent... pessimism... is due to me losing my PTSD medication, no doubt at least one of them was an anti depressant. One of the people here even gave me anti biotics. Out of pity. I suppose I should have thanked him, but I felt like he was a bit of an ass for it. I don't really know why.

I saw her, by the way. The woman from the nightmare. The one who was screaming bloody murder. I still don't know who she is, and hopefully she doesn't know who I am. Nevertheless, I saw her.

Apparently, she is part of some group Lucia was part of. Trade Post Defenders, or TPD. Personally, I would have preferred Tradepost Police Department, but that's probably my odd sense of humor talking.

Whatever the case, I'll be forced to stay here for a while. Oh joy. Who doesn't love a manic depressive cripple hanging out with them?

So, since I haven't given a tip in a while, this one is extra detailed.

Many people seem to think that the best place to hide is the last place someone will look. That idea is fundamentally flawed in that, only an idiot would hide somewhere they know their pursuer would look. No, the best place to hide is somewhere that would never occur to them. Somewhere they didn't think a person could hide.

For example. Say you're being hunted. It would never occur to your hunter that you would take time out of fleeing to move something. Hiding behind a large couch can make you almost invisible, simply because your hunter would never realize it had, or could , be moved.

So, that concludes our lesson for today. The more difficult somewhere is to hide, the safer it is.

So, this is Dr. Drew, signing off, still wondering where the FUCK... is is goddamned medicine?"

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