User:Legofan94





About me
Been a fan of Left 4 Dead ever since I learned about it in mid-summer 2006. Now back then I was a zombie game fanatic, I had never even heard of Valve or Half-Life. 'Course I was 11 back then so that kind of made sense... Anyway the game was unheard of by me so I didn't give it a second thought. However, it kept popping up more and more in 2007, and that's when I finally found Left4dead411.com. It was AMAZING! They kept track of everything that happened to the game. and I checked the site every day just to see a new screen shot! I became a member last summer and I follow the wiki to this day.

MY GOALS:

 * To keep track of all new l4d2 information and events, and edit the pages respectfully.
 * To make a list of all the things Ellis likes. (if it happens =D)
 * To clean up spammed pages and things people just make up.
 * To fear the admins wrath, and be a good little puppy. /wub/
 * To prove to the world that the C-130 pilot is Ellis' long lost father.
 * and so on and so forth...

My contributions

 * User contributions

Cheno's post infection scrapbook.
(this is something I am doing with my free time, a survivor from Atlanta finds a group of others,)

Forward.
Well, I guess I have to start this off somehow. My name is Nicholas Chenowith, but everyone has taken to calling me Cheno. There are two ways you could have found this little white binder. Either #1, I was  being a whiny bitch and sold it for a candy-bar  Selling it to you, a fellow survivor, for supplies. (Goddamnit Will!) Reason #2, We died a horrible, violent death and you happened upon our corpses in an abandoned supermarket or a crashed El-Camino. Now out of boredom, I have put together this scrapbook, from several sources, including C.E.D.A advice, C.D.C documents, and records of how we are stayed alive.

A Note from Will
Whoever is reading this right now, you're either an idiot who bought this from the idiot who wrote this (Cheno) in exchange for decent supplies or you've wrenched it from the idiot's (Either one) cold, dead hands. I want to make this perfectly clear. This book is absolute rubbish. If you're actually bothering to read this damned book instead of using it as toilet paper, then you better pay attention to what I have to say. This book has cost me a lot of good photos and on more than one occasion, the bloody thing almost got both me and the kid killed. Maybe it would be good for a laugh when your spirits are low, but otherwise, don't lug this ridiculous thing with you - it'll get you killed.

If it were up to me, I'd have stopped there, but apparently the kid wants me to write more. I suppose it makes sense, right? Balance out all the crap with some actual intelligence. Well, I can't say things are going well out here. Cheno may try to keep things "scientific" in this thing, but he doesn't seem to note how horrible it is out here. If I could print out my photos, I'd stick a few in and show you just how messed up things are out here, but I can't. No computers in a post-apocalyptic world, after all. Unless it's a self-aware AI apocalypse or some shit, but that's off topic.

The point is, the kid doesn't seem to realise that by making everything seem "scientific" and almost normal sounding, he's drastically underplaying the situation. It's good to write down what's actually happening and what you're actually feeling. As opposed to classing Infected in different categories. You have to get feelings out in the open or they, not the Infected, will be the death of you. Writing them down is a good start. It's important to be emotional sometimes. But I guess I shouldn't keep going on like this, or whoever you are will start thinking I'm a pussy. Believe me, I'm not, it's that damned kid.

However, I do want to let you know this. Living day to day out here becomes not only a physical battle, but emotional too. You see your family get eaten, ripped to shreds, infected. And it destroys you inside. But you can't let it kill you. You have to keep going. The people you fight with, strangers who've grouped together - they become your family. I guess you could say Marthe has become my little sister and Cheno is the annoying, snot-nosed nephew. I guess that makes me the drunken uncle that no one really invited but shows up anyway, eh? To the point, though. You need to move on. Live day to day. Because your family one day may be drastically different the next. I'm not saying get emotionally detached from everyone. I'm simply saying what happens happens.

And if you can't deal with it? Talk about it to a surviving member of your new family. Failing that possibility, write it down. Somewhere. Anywhere. Hell, write it here, the kid won't mind, he's probably dead.

Good luck out there, Survivor. --Ace Photographer William Leyland

September 14, 2009
Day four of the buck hunt, Grandad said I was Crazy for bringing the marlin, "I even brought a spare Remington," he said, "Why d'you even bother with a lever-action?" I just smiled at him, lined up my sights, and pulled the trigger. *BAM* ten point buck on the ground. *chick-chink* "They build Marlins for a reason Grandaddy!" I said, and we both laughed. "Boy," he said, "with luck, you might be gettin' a henry for christmas." my first kill of the season! with luck, Harrison will let me put it over my desk at the office.

September 28th, 2009
Something has happened. Something bad. I know this isn't the right place to write this, or even a good idea to write it at all, but I need to get these things down on paper. My name is Nicholas Chenowith, Cheno to my friend, I'm 28 years old, and I work at the Atlanta Crime Lab as a C.S.I. Early this morning, the Center for Disease Controll and Prevention announced a new strain of lnfluenza discovered in pennsylvania the newspapers are calling it "The Green Flu." now, as much as the media normally hypes things up, I think that this could be serious. The FAA is closing the airports, I think I'm going to keep writing in this until I know it's nothing serious....

September 29th, 2009
We just got back from Hartfield-jackson international, two men got into a fist-fight. Some asshole conman's taking advantage of the situation alredy, all the tourists from europe can't make the flight back, and the lowlifes are selling tickets for "Private flights." a british guy, mid fourties, Langly, Leeston or something, beat up one of the hustelers. The tourist broke the jerks nose, then beat him over the head with a camera.