| a Tale of Survivors. | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 1 2009, 10:56 PM (1,065 Views) | |
| dogmrian | Nov 5 2009, 08:14 PM Post #121 |
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wastleland bard
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Gary looks around trying to find some escape but seeing none continues to fend off the raiders till he hears "COME OUT HERETIC, COME GET YOUR PRETTY LITTLE PLAY TOY" looking Gary sees the ara being held by the Templar. 'wait? what?' thought gary 'how do i know what that dude is?' suddenly with out thinking gary swipes with his right hand opening up another portal to a green place and out comes a huge storm of small green blasts of energy as they swirl around in a hurricane like style hitting most of the raiders down while leaving the rest barely standing but the Templar simply waved his arm and a flaming shield surrounded him taking all of the green flashes which ended very shortly as gary greened out again. |
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| v_lazy_dragon | Nov 9 2009, 08:09 PM Post #122 |
Enforcer
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Pre-Dawn. 2 days later. Todd lies propped against a rock, his shotgun across his legs, and slowly watched the sky turn from black to grey. In another hour the sun would start to show over the brim of the wasteland. It had been a tough couple of days for all of them. Charlie had worked like a man possessed, and between him and the others they'd managed a small miracle of logisitics. They were all now holed up in a cluster of rocks and stunted, dead, trees in one of the valleys in the foot hills of the mountain. No one had counted, but they must have been a good couple of clicks away from the sally port. With them was a hefty stash of supplies and weapons, looted fro mthe dead raiders and the sally-port security room. Jess' treatment had worked well on the bruise, and he could now walk short distances without having to hunch up with pain. Today they'd have to decide a course of action - where to go, what to do, how to do it. Then it'd be a case of sorting out what gear they could take, and stashingthe rest. The next day, they'd start out. He sat there a while long, on guard. Slowly, the sun crept up, casting an organe glow overthe world. Behind him, someone stirred "Yes?" Todd calls quietly, his voice creaky from several hours on watch. |
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-Xander "I know not what weapons WWIII will be fought with, but WW IV will be fought with sticks and stones" Einstein. Check out my modern wargaming website: Black-Ops-Command | |
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| Ninjamonkey73 | Nov 11 2009, 07:16 AM Post #123 |
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Tribal Savage
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Dexter spun around to hand the shotgun off to Ara -- she was still injured, and he wanted her to have the ability to blow someone in half if need be -- only to see her dive through the window. With Gary upstairs conducting some kind of pyrotechnic display, Dexter suddenly found himself alone in the middle of what might just be the worst situation he had ever been in. So he did what he did best; he ran. He had checked the place out for exits when they arrived, so he bolted directly towards the door to the kitchen, slammed it open with a kick and rushed through. He vaulted over a waist-high counter and skidded across the litter-strewn floor to the service exit, then stopped, his back to the wall next to the door. A quick look around told him he was alone for the time being. He took a closer look at his new toy. At first he thought it was an over-under, but it wasn't; the bottom "barrel" was actually an extended magazine. That meant he probably had a good half-dozen shells left, assuming the Raider had walked in with the thing fully-loaded. Although Dexter was by no means a firearms expert, he did know that a 12-guage shotgun didn't require a whole hell of a lot of skill; you pointed it, pulled the trigger, and tried not to get too many dead-guy-chunks splattered on your shirt. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and racked the slide. He thought about heading outside, then thought better of it. By now, the Raiders were sure to be sending people around back to flank him and the others. It was only logical. He glanced around the room, spotted some cabinets under the counter, and opened one of them. It would be a tight squeeze, but it would suffice. Dexter climbed into the cabinet and closed it behind him, cradling the shotgun in his arms, then made an extreme effort to calm down and regulate his breathing. Sooner or later the situation would sort itself out, and he would be able to re-assess and formulate a new plan. Hopefully, his friends would still be alive... |
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| Schrodinger's Cat | Nov 11 2009, 10:32 PM Post #124 |
Raider
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"Yes?" Jess shivered, and rolled over, but it was no use. Once woken, she found it near impossible to get to sleep again now they were outside. It had been a rough few days, but they had coped well enough. Charlie cracked the whip hard, but they were making good distance, and Todd was on the mend. Where they were going to though..... Jess had no idea, and she thought by now they should have really come up with some kind of rough plan. She was never told much of the Outside Wastes, only gossip from Security that had been out on a scout around the area close to the Vault. They were other Vaults, but how far away, she did not know. They hadn't seen another living soul since they set out, and Jess wondered how many people did live in the Wastelands? How many were making a life in the bleak landscape? "Todd? How you feeling?" She asked, sitting up. "What's the Plan for Today?" |
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Work Status: @ Uni (Hold 'till December.) | |
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| v_lazy_dragon | Nov 11 2009, 10:58 PM Post #125 |
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Enforcer
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"Morning Jess - I'm not too bad. A mite stiff, but I should be able to walk today" He kept his voice low, trying not to disturb the others. Jess stretched and padded across the camp to sit next to him against the rock. "I guess today is when we've got to decide what we do next. I'm going to be well enough to be able to move about under my own steam so we don't have to stay in one place any more..." he lapses off and looks at the wasteland, now bathed in a gentle orange glow "... but where we go, I don't know. I guess we can talk it over with the others - see if Charlie herad any rumours about the wastes or if Russell overheard anything whilst fixing some of the vault electronics. I certainly didn't. For all guys used to boast about going 'Out there' they never really said anything about it." |
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-Xander "I know not what weapons WWIII will be fought with, but WW IV will be fought with sticks and stones" Einstein. Check out my modern wargaming website: Black-Ops-Command | |
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| Ninjamonkey73 | Nov 12 2009, 09:34 AM Post #126 |
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Tribal Savage
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Dexter continued to wait. He heard muffled explosions, probably caused by Gary, and some shouting in the distance. Was it over? Probably not... Sweat dripped from his extremities. His eyes played tricks on him, showing him a kaleidoscopic light show within the confines of the dark cabinet. He thought about Ara, alone outside the Church. He mouthed a single word: "Fuck." He opened the cabinet and carefully made his way to the back door. |
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| DAWGIE | Nov 12 2009, 02:38 PM Post #127 |
Merc
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BACON, crisp, hot, with toast, hash brown potatoes, two eggs over easy, seasoned to taste with salt, pepper, hot sauce, a huge mug of coffee with milk and sugar , were looking back at CHARLIE from the top of the table ; the smell was orgasmic, CHARLIE's big mouth watered and ample belly growled loudly in anticipation of the first long over due bite . he loaded his fork to the max, dipped his toast into the thick yellow egg yolk, closed his big blue eyes in anticipation of things to come . . . and woke up to the harsh reality of CHARLIE WORLD NOW, regretfully leaving the sweet dreams of CHARLIE WORLD THEN behind. . . . his face was cold. . . the ground was hard . . . his back hurt . . . there was a small mountain wedged between his ample buttocks . . . his nose was stuffed up. . . sinuses felt like malignant dwarves were in their working them over with picks . . . his belly growled like a lion guarding its prey against hyenas . . . he heard TODD and JESS talking in low voices nearby, but not a peep from RUSS (other than a steady buzz saw snore). judging by the light, it must be around dawn thirty. LORD, the last thing CHARLIE wanted to do was crawl out of his sleeping bag and begin another day in THE WASTELAND! the past days had been harsh, very harsh, when compared with the idyllic days in the ye olde vault, but CHARLIE suspected that it had actually been the equivalent of a stroll the vault's atrium when compared to the REAL WORLD of the WASTELANDS. they had successfully avoided any further contact with the raiders that took down the vault and by default they had also avoided contact with any other vault survivors . . . IF THERE WERE ANY OTHER VAULT SURVIVORS . . . they had also avoided contact with any of THE WASTE- LANDS dangerous wildlife, (stories about giant scorpions circulating among the SECURITY MESS might be inflated, but the photos survey teams had brought back of them looked pretty convincing to OLE CHARLIE!!!!!), mutations, radiation hazards,, air hazards, biological hazards, weather hazards, and etc, to date, but CHARLIE knew that would not last . . . he wished they had been able to put more distance between them and the ruined vault, but, it had taken an incredible amount of effort to get this far dragging TODD and improvised sledges of supplies, clothing, weapons, ammo, and etc. CHARLIE had wisely decided that any campfires were out of the question, so they had been hunkered down here eating cold field rations, keeping a wary watch, slinking off in pairs to dig needed "cat holes", fill them with bio wastes, then cover up same . CHARLIE had not a clue as to what THE PLAN was, other than to survive. the precious EYES ONLY survey maps were largely blank, but there were a few scattered settlements (unless the raiders, mutants, weather, wildlife, etc, etc, had destroyed them) and the site of several vaults (that might or might not still survive) marked on it. unfortunately, the neares vault was a long way from where they were. the pre-WAR maps were chock full of info about once populous places, centers of government, and military installations that were now radioactive craters, abandoned ruins "peopled" with skeletons, roadways that probably were long gone. . . even the terrain features had been altered by THE WAR. the pre-WAR landscapes had been changed by the hell on EARTH that was unleashed. CRAP! he could not hide in his sleeping bag any longer- hydraulic pressure was going to force him out and about. with a loud smoan (combination scream and moan), he unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up with all of the grace of FRANKENSTEIN'S monster. . . "IT' ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE" he staged whispered to WASTELANDS in general. seeing the startled look on the faces of TODD and JESS, he knew they had heard him. "it is a line from an ancient pre WAR black/white 2-D movie." more blank looks. "forget it. where is the flush plumbing, hot showers, and hot breakfast, served on dishes, made to order?" |
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| Schrodinger's Cat | Nov 12 2009, 10:33 PM Post #128 |
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Raider
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"forget it. where is the flush plumbing, hot showers, and hot breakfast, served on dishes, made to order?" Jess smiled. Despite their situation, Charlie seemed to be cheery throughout. "I think behind that tree stump" She answered, and giggled. "Seriously though, we have some canned meat if you want? There's probably some beans or lentils too, I'll have a rummage around." She grabbed the Pack nearest to her. "Russ still seems to be fast asleep, I don't know how he does it...Here we are" She said, producing a set of cans from the Bag. Within a few minutes, breakfast was ready, using the small stove they had brought with them to warm the meat and the beans. Jess was starving, but made sure to pace herself and make the meal last. Russ still slept, so she made sure to save some for him. "So, Charlie, which direction we off today? Is there anywhere we can actually go?" Charlie, mid chew, waited till he was finished before answering. He seemed to think it over, and opened his mouth to answer. It was then the sound of an explosion disturbed the otherwise silent wastes. |
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Work Status: @ Uni (Hold 'till December.) | |
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| v_lazy_dragon | Nov 13 2009, 12:57 PM Post #129 |
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Enforcer
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Todd had been enjoying the Spam & Beans Jess had cooked up - but at the explosion he rapidly put the plate down, and jumped into a crouch, wincing at the sudden shooting pain from his bruise. "That sounded pretty damn close Charlie - a couple of hundred meters maybe?" as he starts to move over to where his pump action was propped agaisnt a rock |
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-Xander "I know not what weapons WWIII will be fought with, but WW IV will be fought with sticks and stones" Einstein. Check out my modern wargaming website: Black-Ops-Command | |
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| DAWGIE | Nov 13 2009, 01:39 PM Post #130 |
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Merc
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CHARLIE went face down at the blast, adding dirt and gravel to the food already in his mouth. when nothing else happened, he looked up and saw TODD scrambling toward his shotgun, JESS frozen in place, and as yet no reaction from RUSS. he spat, spraying food, dirt and gravel. WTFO? he rolled over onto his left side, clawed the pistol from its holster on his right hip, and thumbed off the safety. he cursed himself for leaning his SMG against the rock he had had his back to, tried to hook his right foot in the sling and drag it within reach, failed. SHIT! expecting to see raiders in uncounted numbers swarming toward the camp from all sides at any second, CHARLIE was acutely aware that he was not wearing any body armor: it was laying on the ground beside the SMG. STUPID! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID! CHARLIE wormed his way over to his SMG, holstered the pistol, grabbed the SMG, chambered a round, flipped off the safety, and popped up for a quick peak over his rock. NOTHING! "anybody hit? anybody see anything?" |
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| DAWGIE | Nov 18 2009, 03:29 PM Post #131 |
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Merc
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"anybody hit? anybody see anything?" it was at this point in time that the first huge raindrops started to plop down on and all around them . . . WTFO? CHARLIE who had never been outside before, had completely forgotten that rainfall in the wastelands was a rare but natural event. apparently none of them had thought about "rain" as an outdoors event, witness the soon to be drenched sleeping bags, blankets, etc, and the four compact dome tents still secured inside their individual carriers. raindrop the size of hydroponics garden grapes were coming straight down, in a rain that was getting increasing heavier, as far as the eye could see. . . even as CHARLIE was digesting this bit of info, there was a terrifying lightning strike about 100 yards away. said lightning bolt blew a nearby long dead tree into flaming splinters, gouged a hole in the grounds and dazzled his eyes. the concussion from the bolt was like a physical blow, and the noise was worse than any explosion CHARLIE had ever heard before. HOLY SHIT! and then the wind started to blow, howling out of the west, blowing debris before it, and changing the vertical rain into a new wonder - horizontal rain! the sky above was full thick, boiling masses of black, gray, and greenish looking clouds with the occasional jagged bolt of lightning stabbing downwards and thunder rolling across the wastelands. WHY ME GOD? and GOD responded by drawing CHARLIE'S attention to the water coursing down the slopes and beginning to form puddles on the bottom of their once comfy hidey-hole . . . . CHARLIE thought he heard a VOICE FROM ON HIGH responding to his unvoiced question, and the answer was not a happy one: "BECAUSE. . . YOU. . . CHARLIE. . . PISSED. . . ME . . .. OFF . . . ." CHARLIE dimly remembered a tidbit from one of those deadly boring SECURITY training 3-Ds. something about arid areas, particularly _LOW_ arid areas, bring prone to "flash flooding". he eyeballed their temperary sanctuary, a depression, with several other , smaller depressions joining it, that wandered aimlessly down slope from the campsite. he eyeballed the hillside above and around them that blocked an outside view of the campsite. he eyeballed the dried, baked solid earth that was fast becoming red mud. . . "HOLY SHIT! COME ON GUYS! WE GOTTA GET OUR SHIT TOGETHER AND GET OUT OF THIS DITCH!" puzzled looks from TODD and JESS; no response from RUSS. "THIS DITCH IS GONNA BE A LAKE REAL SOON! WE GOTTA GET US AND OUR STUFF TO HIGHER GROUND" he pointed up slope. "NOW! NOW! DAMMIT!" he grabbed the still sleeping RUSS and dragged him from the little ravine, struggling up slope in the slippery mud, dropped him in place close to the hill crest, turned, went back toward, the camp, slipping, sliding, and finally shooting downwards on his wide butt, rendering the air blue as he went . . . |
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| Ninjamonkey73 | Nov 20 2009, 07:28 AM Post #132 |
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Tribal Savage
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As he crept towards the back door of the church, Dex allowed himself to ponder the big picture a bit... it helped to ease his nerves considering the horrible, stifling paranoia of his immediate, smaller picture. Was this whole situation a byproduct of Gary's... weirdness? Until a few minutes ago, Dexter had thought Gary and his "green flashes" were just about the most bizarre thing he had ever seen, but now... with the "Raider" leader throwing fireworks with equal ease... it seemed eerily natural. It was as if Gary belonged here somehow, in these ruins, among these violent madmen. He crouched as low as he could, and reached up to press the bar on the fire door, then stopped. Was it possible -- even remotely possible -- that the alarm was still active? Dexter's mind raced. If there was no alarm, there was nothing to worry about; he could slip quietly out the back way, then magically think up a plan. But if an alarm sounded, enemies would rush to investigate... ...which meant that they would rush away from Gary and Ara. Dexter took a deep breath, grimaced, and pressed the bar. The door squeaked open. There was no alarm. Dexter squinted into the lowering light of evening. Strange shapes loomed before him. He crept forward. The ground seemed to be covered with chips of wood. There was a large metal scaffolding of some kind to his left, and a small row of flimsy-looking metal chutes to his right. Ahead of him was a pair of metal A-frames connected by a vertical bar, with chains hanging from the top, and harnesses of some kind attached to the chains. Brightly-colored spheres and matching clubs littered the ground. What in the world...? The area behind the church was enclosed by a chainlink fence, perhaps five feet high. It would have been no problem to hop over it, if there weren't already large gaps in the chainlink. Dexter slowly, silently moved towards one of the gaps, pausing momentarily to pick up one of the brightly-colored clubs... only to find that it was practically weightless. Hollow plastic, useless for crushing bones. He discarded it and moved on. There still seemed to be quite a bit of commotion both inside the church and outside of it, but not here. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. |
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| v_lazy_dragon | Nov 20 2009, 08:24 AM Post #133 |
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Enforcer
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"NOW! NOW! DAMMIT!" With Charlie's sudden activity expalined, those words kicked Todd into action. Grabbing his shotgun from against the tree, he slides his head and left arm into the sling, keeping the barrel pointed down. He was sure he had heard about doing that in one of the few wilderness survival talks he'd been on. Grabbing a pile of packs of 'gear' (at this point not really bothering to look at what he was picking up) he slings one across his back, humps anothewr onto each shoulder and grabs the carry handles of as many as he can carry - and starts to stumble forward up the slow. His stomach hurts like hell, the heavy rucksacks and dufflebags stretching the bruised skin, as he bends low and keeps moving. He sees Charlie reach the top of the ridge and drop Russell, before turning around to head back down. Jess must be behind him somewhere. Almost at the top he hears a string of cursing in Charlies deep voice, and turns to see the older security man shooting down the hill on his butt. It would have been highly amusing if Todd hadn't suddenly felt his feet start to slip. His wounded leg was feeling the stress of having to hare up a hill carry piles of bags, and it was all Todd could do to keep his feet and not go a sliding. Eventually, after a bit of fancy foot work, he reaches the top, and starts dropping packs far enough from the ridge top that they hopefully wouldn't get washed away. He looked over at Russell - the kid was still sleeping. Man! that wasn't right - wlaking over he bent down, wincing, to check if the kid was still alive - he was, and his breathing was deep, regular. Lifting the younger man's head, top props it up on pack - not a comfortable pillow, but there was less chance of him rolling over and drowning in the mud. Russells head was very hot, as if he was running a high fever. Not really having chance to deal with the situation right now, Todd turns and starts backtowrds the ridge top to try and salvage some more gear... |
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-Xander "I know not what weapons WWIII will be fought with, but WW IV will be fought with sticks and stones" Einstein. Check out my modern wargaming website: Black-Ops-Command | |
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| Schrodinger's Cat | Nov 22 2009, 09:54 PM Post #134 |
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Raider
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The rain came so fast, Jess didn't really register what was happening. Soaked through to the skin, she quickly ferried as much equipment as she could grab, and scrambled up the hill, slipping slightly. Making it to the top, she saw Charlie and Todd go down to grab some more. A flash of lightning struck the ground nearby, and she let out a small yelp. Was all rain like this? it was then she noticed Russell. He was still sleeping..... Fearing the worst, she made her way over to him. He seemed alright, except for a slight temperature and the fact he was still asleep..... Examining closer, she made out 2 small bite marks on his arm. Had he been poisoned? The bites were pretty big for a normal insect, but who knew what was out here. "Jess! Help us grab some stuff quick!" |
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Work Status: @ Uni (Hold 'till December.) | |
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| DAWGIE | Dec 2 2009, 03:33 PM Post #135 |
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Merc
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AND THEN THE RAIN CAME-even harder than before! by now the somewhat worse for wear vault survivors were soaked to the skin, covered in slimey mud, and at least CHARLIE was wondering what GOD was going to hit them with next, just to see how they would handle the situation. the tents, gear, weapons, supplies, and SLEEPING BEAUTY were on on higher ground now, which was good; the ravine was fast becoming a brown torrent and any thing or anyone still down there was gone for good! CHARLIE helped JESS drag RUSS into his bubble tent, and watched her crawl in beside him to see WTHO was wrong with him. CHARLIE was patoently holding his canteen cup collecting clear rain water for her to use on RUSS, and miserably letting the heavy rain wash away most of the mud that he was covered with. when he got clean enough, he was going to crawl into his bubble tent and put on his extra set of dry clothes, then crawl into the sleeping bag and get warm again. lightning struck nearby with another blinding flash and ear busting blast, so CHARLIE decided to squat while filling the cup/taking his rain bath. standing tall did not seem like a very good idea right now (witness the multiple lightning blasted dead trees on the sky line and face of the ridge). . . CHARLIE waited patiently while centuries of biblical rain poured from the sky, biblical winds howled across the wastelands, and GOD randomly blasted something nearby into smithereens with a bolt of lightning just for fun. CHARLIE had reservatons about life OUTSIDE before he was forced to abandon the comfy vault, and recent events had confirmed that things were going to be a lot different OUTSIDE. his ample gut growled balefully. he shivered with cold. snot drooled out of his big nose in a stream of yuck. his feet hurt. his back hurt. the raindrops bouncing off his balding noggin felt like sledgehammer blows. |
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| v_lazy_dragon | Dec 3 2009, 11:17 PM Post #136 |
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Enforcer
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Todd watched Charlie's antics with the canteen, and then decided that collecting water was a preetty good idea. He hurridly rummaged through the groups various packs and bags, pulling out cups, pans, mess tins, anything which would act as a water holder. He ducked each time the thunder boomed or the lightning flashed. After 5 or 6 bags, Todd gave up. There should be enough containers ought, and besides he was fed up of getting soaked through. He walked morosely over to his bubble tent, shook himself to try to get some of the rain off - he wasn't sure it made any difference to how wet he was - and crawled in. ... The hours drag by, and eventually the rain starts to slacken, and then abate entirely. Todd lies on the nylon floor of his tent, still sodden through, and with a small puddle forming around his body. Wit hthe rain having gone off he gets up and walks over to the tent where Russell & Jess were huddled - lifting the flap, he sticks his head in "How is he doing Jess?" Edited by v_lazy_dragon, Dec 4 2009, 06:56 PM.
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-Xander "I know not what weapons WWIII will be fought with, but WW IV will be fought with sticks and stones" Einstein. Check out my modern wargaming website: Black-Ops-Command | |
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