Defiant_Blob
(￣^￣)ゞ
"If you're asking me to shoot for you, what's in it for me? And don't tell me some crap like being able to live in your outpost. I did just fine on my own," Mecra stated, "And yes, I'm an amazing shot."
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The Afterstory : A Post Apocalyptic Roleplay [Free-To-Join]
- Thread starter Specter2k11
- Start date
The time sweeper hears some people, so he quickly hides into a wardrobe in one of the houses. He overhears some of the conversation.
"So how far did he go?"
"I don't know, but be wary."
"Damn kid, deserves to die. Let's hope this flanking works."
"I doubt it. He might be back at that base of his already..."
Interested, the feline sneakily followed the strangers to their destination, having his sword ready in case they spot him.
"So how far did he go?"
"I don't know, but be wary."
"Damn kid, deserves to die. Let's hope this flanking works."
"I doubt it. He might be back at that base of his already..."
Interested, the feline sneakily followed the strangers to their destination, having his sword ready in case they spot him.
In a desert far away from Haven, a lonely man walks. He does not know where he is going, nor what he left behind. The heat burns his skin a solid bronze, and his brown hair has been lightened nearly blonde. He cannot recall when he last drank water and it has been even longer since he had a good meal.
He stumbles over a dead bush and his face slams onto the hard desert sands, cracked from the lack of rain. His leg is tangled up in the brush, so he gives it a kick and the whole bush springs up from the ground. He rips the bush off him, and brushes himself down. He continues walking east.
He stumbles over a dead bush and his face slams onto the hard desert sands, cracked from the lack of rain. His leg is tangled up in the brush, so he gives it a kick and the whole bush springs up from the ground. He rips the bush off him, and brushes himself down. He continues walking east.
JKangaroo
Your Local, Neighborhood Marsupial
[[ 77_is_the_best I'm sure you can be either a bandit or civilian, seeing the main post. So go out! Form your tale. Join in whenever!... What's your story stranger? (And if I'm wrong and you cant be a bandit, I'm sure Sp3ct will say later.)]]
I turn slowly from my stupor...
And to face me, was the features of a young boy, no younger then twelve.
He just stood there, a rusted pistol shaking between his thin hands, a look of terror and confusion on his face.
He was trying to force me to follow him to a group of his friends, but by the cracks in his voice and body movement, he wasn't appearing to show any intimidation or want to do what he was currently doing... But what choice did I have when there was a gun pointed at my head?
I sighed and shook my head slowly.
I asked him if he was a bandit. It seems he wasn't, but a group of them saved his life, and so now he does their dirty work in debt. I felt sorry for the lad, having to get mixed up in all this.
And yet, I followed him, to what I knew was to my doom, that was, unless whatever had happened to this world hadn't already sealed that path...
I turn slowly from my stupor...
And to face me, was the features of a young boy, no younger then twelve.
He just stood there, a rusted pistol shaking between his thin hands, a look of terror and confusion on his face.
He was trying to force me to follow him to a group of his friends, but by the cracks in his voice and body movement, he wasn't appearing to show any intimidation or want to do what he was currently doing... But what choice did I have when there was a gun pointed at my head?
I sighed and shook my head slowly.
I asked him if he was a bandit. It seems he wasn't, but a group of them saved his life, and so now he does their dirty work in debt. I felt sorry for the lad, having to get mixed up in all this.
And yet, I followed him, to what I knew was to my doom, that was, unless whatever had happened to this world hadn't already sealed that path...
Sploorky
Member
As the wind whips his face, a man calmly walks through the wasteland. He's a man of his mid 20s, jet black hair and a lightly tanned body, a shirt and pants made of animal fur. Despite the sand being blown at his bare body, he doesn't break his brisk stride. He's made very good progress today, about 8 miles. As he walks, he thinks "Why exactly did I decide to continue my journey today? I knew how harsh the wind is in the desert. I should have just stayed in my tiny cave, maybe search for some rats for meat." He shrugs his thoughts off. "No use thinking about it, just keep walking. Just keep doing something, at least."
Now, this man doesn't have any specific place to go. He just walks, picking up whatever he can on the way. He's made countless shelters(if you could call small dug out holes that), traveled countless miles. Has he met countless people? No, of course not. In fact, he doubts there are other people in this wasteland of horror.
Now, this man doesn't have any specific place to go. He just walks, picking up whatever he can on the way. He's made countless shelters(if you could call small dug out holes that), traveled countless miles. Has he met countless people? No, of course not. In fact, he doubts there are other people in this wasteland of horror.
Pistols...Knives...swords...blood...this is what it comes to. A black clad figure sprints and dives through what's left of lime green forest. He runs from someone. BANG. A pistol is fired. All of a sudden the figure comes into an opening. A trap! One of the pursuers takes a step forward, easily recognizable as a bandit by the pistol hanging from his belt. With only jacket/cape of 20 knives he knows he is beat. "Well what would a 15 year old be doin around here?" The bandit moves closer. "Stay back" the boy warned. He still moves closer, with no visible weopons he's not scared. lucky him. "Why? You have no Weop-" A knive enters his body and the boy almost at Speeds take off through the dead forest again. A few go to follow him. "Stop! We missed them! We spent too long on him!" The bandits clear out quickly muttering "we need the seed" I need food too. I'm going to follow them. He walks back into the opening and picks out the knife still stuck into the bandit's heart. Click. The boy spins around. Dammit! How could I be so careless! A very young boy, who doesn't look like a bandit has a pistol ained at him. He has a prisoner. hes scared The boy in black reaches for a knife. Even at 30 meters he knows he can hit the heart. Bang. crap, my foot...
[Editted past here in]
The boy walks over to him and hold the gun to him. "Your name?" Writhing in pain all he could get out was "Mitch..el." the boy takes of Mitchel's hood to see that his skin is pale white and his hair is jet black. He looks to be about 17 but he can't be much older than 15. He looks like he is built for speed and agility. He feels a sense of pride knowing he took down such a foe. Then he come to the rows and rows of knives under his jacket. Mitchel mourners something unintelligible. He had blacked out.
[Editted past here in]
The boy walks over to him and hold the gun to him. "Your name?" Writhing in pain all he could get out was "Mitch..el." the boy takes of Mitchel's hood to see that his skin is pale white and his hair is jet black. He looks to be about 17 but he can't be much older than 15. He looks like he is built for speed and agility. He feels a sense of pride knowing he took down such a foe. Then he come to the rows and rows of knives under his jacket. Mitchel mourners something unintelligible. He had blacked out.
Defiant_Blob
(￣^￣)ゞ
"Like I said, I was doing just fine on my own. I had all my essentials covered, and I can do it again, kid. How about I, say, get full access to your armory, whenever I want. I'm not about to live off some supermarket trash, so I'll need some better hunting equipment. And maybe I can take out some bandits while I'm at it," Mecra answers as he walks into Haven. Wow, this place is kinda stunning. Looks like they really know how to live life here. But I still don't trust them entirely. "Ah, also. I'll be setting up my own camp a mile or two from here, to sleep. I prefer sleeping on my own."
The sun burns directly overhead. The sweat rolls down into his eyes and begin to sting them. As he wipes them with his hands, he notices a dark mound on his left towards the sandstone cliffs. He wanders in its direction.
As he approaches the curious mound, he notices that it is a large backpack, like one would use on a hiking trip. The backpack lies on a pile of clothes, and as he moves even closer, he notices that a skeletal body dwells beneath the cloth. The body is stiff as he tries to remove the backpack from its bony frame. He tries to tuck an arm through the loop, but notices that a strapped is wrapped around the front, and he will have to remove that first.
He flips the body and a deathly maw greets him. The remaining tissue not picked by the animals on the face is dry and hard, the eye sockets hollow. He avoids staring and begins undoing the buckle wrapped around his chest. He quickly removes the arms from the loop and carries the backpack a few paces away. He sets it down and begins examining its contents.
As he approaches the curious mound, he notices that it is a large backpack, like one would use on a hiking trip. The backpack lies on a pile of clothes, and as he moves even closer, he notices that a skeletal body dwells beneath the cloth. The body is stiff as he tries to remove the backpack from its bony frame. He tries to tuck an arm through the loop, but notices that a strapped is wrapped around the front, and he will have to remove that first.
He flips the body and a deathly maw greets him. The remaining tissue not picked by the animals on the face is dry and hard, the eye sockets hollow. He avoids staring and begins undoing the buckle wrapped around his chest. He quickly removes the arms from the loop and carries the backpack a few paces away. He sets it down and begins examining its contents.
The sun seems to glare down on a man lying flat on his stomach. The area around him was a mix of sand and grass, lying on a large hill as he felt like an eagle looking down at his prey... Steam could be seen coming off his back; yet the man remained motionless. He wore a white dress suit with a white tie and white shoes. The sports jacket of his suit appeared to be covered in sand; grains of sand covered his white pants aswell.
He continued to look through his binoculars at the two men a mile away from him. His rifle stood on a bipod right beside his hip, resting beside him. No sweat seemed to drip down from his face, yet the heat rained on him like wearing a suit in a tanning booth. Although it was not pleasant, the man enjoyed the feeling of being classy.
He continued to look at both of the men outside of the base. ...Who are these guys; why have they decided to come near this odd place... Still looking at the men, he did not break a sweat; he knew he was too far away from the men for them to know he was there...
He continued to look through his binoculars at the two men a mile away from him. His rifle stood on a bipod right beside his hip, resting beside him. No sweat seemed to drip down from his face, yet the heat rained on him like wearing a suit in a tanning booth. Although it was not pleasant, the man enjoyed the feeling of being classy.
He continued to look at both of the men outside of the base. ...Who are these guys; why have they decided to come near this odd place... Still looking at the men, he did not break a sweat; he knew he was too far away from the men for them to know he was there...
The man atop the hill noticed that the man seemed to point in his general direction; figuring that he either saw him or something, he knew he had to move. Sighing softly, he put away his binoculars and lifted his scoped hunting rifle directly into the air, slinging it over his back as he would begin to descend the hill opposite of the direction the man was heading. Wanting to have a little fun, the man decided to leave the man a small gift: he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag filled to the top with ham and pepperoni. This ham and pepperoni seem to be a bit bloody for the person to find it. He leaves a note with the pepperoni, which would read:
This place, tomorrow.
And with that, he descended the hill.
This place, tomorrow.
And with that, he descended the hill.
Getting bored of just following the bandits, the time sweeper decides to take one out. He takes out his bow and aims for the spot right under his ear. He hits spot on and kills the man. The others start to get suspicious.
"What the hell was that?"
"We're being watched."
"Well no shit Sherlock! We need to be more careful!"
The bandits continued on, being more cautious of their surroundings. When they get out of sight, the feline cuts out pieces of the human, puts it in the backpack he had, takes the backpack, and begins following the bandits again.
"What the hell was that?"
"We're being watched."
"Well no shit Sherlock! We need to be more careful!"
The bandits continued on, being more cautious of their surroundings. When they get out of sight, the feline cuts out pieces of the human, puts it in the backpack he had, takes the backpack, and begins following the bandits again.
JKangaroo
Your Local, Neighborhood Marsupial
The sky seemed to darken, or perhaps it was just my imagination in the dreaded heat.
But after many moments, the child and I arrived where his gang supposedly awaited for his return.
Again... Dust... Not a single living soul seemed to inhabit the ruined area.
The kid frowned, and with a face without expression, I scanned the hidden alcoves for anything... anyone... a sign...
Heh... I should have been scared in a situation like this... A supposed captive, the world seeming to be at its end, and yet, I wished to see a sign of life.
And yet there was nothing...
Just dust... and more dust...
Until I spied a skull, still fresh, with an arrow in its side.
I motioned the kid away before he could spy the sight.
We decided to rest awhile, perhaps they would return...
and as I leaned against a crumbling wall... I thought...
A kid like that doesn't deserve being in such a group, with such a future, and witnessing such a sight...
Perhaps...
Maybe that kid shouldn't even be alive in a world like this...
But after many moments, the child and I arrived where his gang supposedly awaited for his return.
Again... Dust... Not a single living soul seemed to inhabit the ruined area.
The kid frowned, and with a face without expression, I scanned the hidden alcoves for anything... anyone... a sign...
Heh... I should have been scared in a situation like this... A supposed captive, the world seeming to be at its end, and yet, I wished to see a sign of life.
And yet there was nothing...
Just dust... and more dust...
Until I spied a skull, still fresh, with an arrow in its side.
I motioned the kid away before he could spy the sight.
We decided to rest awhile, perhaps they would return...
and as I leaned against a crumbling wall... I thought...
A kid like that doesn't deserve being in such a group, with such a future, and witnessing such a sight...
Perhaps...
Maybe that kid shouldn't even be alive in a world like this...
Specter2k11
Haunting People Since 2011
"... On one condition." Mark replies.
"You will need someone to accompany you. Your request is granted but take into account that we usually use a large portion of the armory as a tool to fend off those accursed bandits. Anyways, as for the guy that's going to accompany you, it will be arranged inside when you meet our leader." Mark continues.
"Just don't do anything stupid. I've got my eye on you for this one."
"You will need someone to accompany you. Your request is granted but take into account that we usually use a large portion of the armory as a tool to fend off those accursed bandits. Anyways, as for the guy that's going to accompany you, it will be arranged inside when you meet our leader." Mark continues.
"Just don't do anything stupid. I've got my eye on you for this one."
Argh my foot... It hurts so much. Ok where am I? A campsite. I'm tied to a tree. My knives are gone. And that boy. But wait. Where Is the prisoner? I look at the meat in which the kid is eating and I almost vomit. No... "Ahh your awake! Would you like some food?" i just stare at him, eye him down. "Ok your call." He falls asleep? Fool. Bet he didn't take my knife hidden in my boot. Inthe span of 10 seconds Mitchel is free of the rope and is limping over to the boy. "Die!" He wakes as the knife enters his body. Hehe let's take a look at his map shall I? Hmm what is this? An outpost of some kind? Looks people could be here. I need medical attention. Mitchel grabs his knives and leaves the warmth and light of the fire in the general direction of this outpost.
As the man is about to search through the bag, a crackling sound is heard behind him, which is following by a clap of thunder.
He turns around, to see the sky darken with a wall of purplish-grey clouds flowing over the hills in the distance. His eyes widen.
Shit!
He retrieves the backpack and breaks for the cliffs on his left. He examines every crevice in the walls, hoping to find some sort of cover. He races against the storm, which howls and booms behind him.
At last he finds a cutout cave in one of the cliffs, deep enough and large enough for him to make a temporary shelter.
After a few moments, the rain begins to fall. A vigorous downpour, the ground sizzles with every tear, for this is not normal rain, it is acid.
At the height of the organism's epidemic, when the bodies overflowed the graves, the population grew restless and sought an end to this deathly plague. With little time to provide cures individually, the scientists of the day began devising a mass cure that hoped to rid the disease. They sought to release a manufactured gas called Rememdium, which was used as a last ditch effort for a cure which the scientists believed could be filtered into the population quickly via the weather systems. Something went amiss, and the gas began to cause chemical triggers which resulted in a variety of strong acids to develop with the presence of strong electric storms. The acids can melt through a variety of materials, even some metals. The human skin does not do well with these acids, and water should be carefully tested where these acidic clouds prevail. The clouds are recognizable by the slight purplish hue they give off.
[I can change this about the rain, if need be.]
He turns around, to see the sky darken with a wall of purplish-grey clouds flowing over the hills in the distance. His eyes widen.
Shit!
He retrieves the backpack and breaks for the cliffs on his left. He examines every crevice in the walls, hoping to find some sort of cover. He races against the storm, which howls and booms behind him.
At last he finds a cutout cave in one of the cliffs, deep enough and large enough for him to make a temporary shelter.
After a few moments, the rain begins to fall. A vigorous downpour, the ground sizzles with every tear, for this is not normal rain, it is acid.
At the height of the organism's epidemic, when the bodies overflowed the graves, the population grew restless and sought an end to this deathly plague. With little time to provide cures individually, the scientists of the day began devising a mass cure that hoped to rid the disease. They sought to release a manufactured gas called Rememdium, which was used as a last ditch effort for a cure which the scientists believed could be filtered into the population quickly via the weather systems. Something went amiss, and the gas began to cause chemical triggers which resulted in a variety of strong acids to develop with the presence of strong electric storms. The acids can melt through a variety of materials, even some metals. The human skin does not do well with these acids, and water should be carefully tested where these acidic clouds prevail. The clouds are recognizable by the slight purplish hue they give off.
[I can change this about the rain, if need be.]
A dimly lit room, creaking, lightly colored wooden floorboards and wooden walls. The White Suit opens the small door to this setting, placing his white fedora on a small shaft of wood pointing outward from the room; afterwards takes off his white sports jacket, revealing a white collar underneath, placing his jacket on a crude stump inside of his shelter. His rifle is placed right beside the jacket, as well as his binoculars. His house is built underground, a large amount of leaves cover the actual entrance to the shaft towards his house.
The man walks towards a pile of large boxes in the corner of the square-shaped room. He opens one up, grabbing a small can of pasta, placing it over an earlier lit fire, warming up the entrails of the can to prepare for his indulging. He takes the rusty iron pot away from the fire and later diminishes it, looking at his warmed.food, eating it while reminiscing about the men he saw.
They seem to be an enjoyable bunch; perhaps I'll continue observing them.
After eating his food, he washed his face with some water from a puddle in his home and made his way towards a nicely sewn blanket which lies on some couch cushions. He closes his eyes, ready to sleep for the night...
The man walks towards a pile of large boxes in the corner of the square-shaped room. He opens one up, grabbing a small can of pasta, placing it over an earlier lit fire, warming up the entrails of the can to prepare for his indulging. He takes the rusty iron pot away from the fire and later diminishes it, looking at his warmed.food, eating it while reminiscing about the men he saw.
They seem to be an enjoyable bunch; perhaps I'll continue observing them.
After eating his food, he washed his face with some water from a puddle in his home and made his way towards a nicely sewn blanket which lies on some couch cushions. He closes his eyes, ready to sleep for the night...
M
midnightgirl24
Guest
[Well I'm rusty at this, but I'll give it a shot.]
A young girl stops and stares, looking deep into the wasteland. Her white hair brushes against her face as a slight wind blows. She stares intently, as though she is trying to see beyond the wasteland. She starts to have many questions run through her mind.
Where will I find food and water?
Will I find shelter?
Will I finally find someone?
Will they be friendly?
She ponders each question, but shakes each off.
I can't let my nerves get to me. That will probably be the death of me.
She turns slightly, looking over her shoulder, wondering which direction she should head. She sighs deeply, wishing the decision would be easier. She eventually decides to walk South.
She slowly walks forward, hoping to have some of her questions answered.
A young girl stops and stares, looking deep into the wasteland. Her white hair brushes against her face as a slight wind blows. She stares intently, as though she is trying to see beyond the wasteland. She starts to have many questions run through her mind.
Where will I find food and water?
Will I find shelter?
Will I finally find someone?
Will they be friendly?
She ponders each question, but shakes each off.
I can't let my nerves get to me. That will probably be the death of me.
She turns slightly, looking over her shoulder, wondering which direction she should head. She sighs deeply, wishing the decision would be easier. She eventually decides to walk South.
She slowly walks forward, hoping to have some of her questions answered.
Specter2k11
Haunting People Since 2011
"The last time i saw them, it looks like a very organized group of bandits. They have around 9 or 10 people in that group. Most of them have automated guns, and one of them is a sniper. Good god, that sniper almost shot me while i was running." Ray tells.
"Here they come! I see them on the horizon. Looks like you were right, Ray." adds Mark.
"Come up at the tower and help me with this. Ray, go inside and store the seeds. NOW."
The sounds of very faint footsteps are heard. The bandits approaches Haven's gate. Mark then pushes the gate button, closing the gate shut. Ray then proceeded to run into what looks like a military barracks.
"Here they come! I see them on the horizon. Looks like you were right, Ray." adds Mark.
"Come up at the tower and help me with this. Ray, go inside and store the seeds. NOW."
The sounds of very faint footsteps are heard. The bandits approaches Haven's gate. Mark then pushes the gate button, closing the gate shut. Ray then proceeded to run into what looks like a military barracks.
Defiant_Blob
(￣^￣)ゞ
Mecra climbs the tower, sizing up the weapon that Mark had mentioned earlier. He takes a look through the dusty scope towards the bandits, causing him to widen his eyes. Is that... could it be? What the hell is she doing in a group of rag tag bandits?!
Mecra looks over at Mark, who was also surveying the bandits in the distance. He takes a shot, nearly missing the woman Mecra was thinking about. "Mark," Mecra says sternly. "Hold your fire."
"Wah?" Mark looked over his shoulder. Mecra was aiming the rifle inches from Mark's head.
"I said hold your fire, or I won't hold mine."
"So, you're one of them," Mark said sullenly.
"No, but I'm not one of you. At least, not yet. Now, get the rest of the guards to hold their fire as well."
"Are you mad? What, will we just sit here doing nothing?"
"Just do what I tell you to, or I'll blow your head off."
"Give me a reason why you're doing this first."
"Fine, you see that woman in that group? With the purple bandana? She's a friend. I have no idea why she's with those bandits, but I'd rather blow this whole town up than let her die while I have something to say."
"So, what's your plan?" Mark questions.
"... I don't know. At least not yet," Mecra worriedly explains.
"How about this. I have two types of ammo. Normal killing ammo, and tranquilizer ammo. We'll make her go unconscious and bring her in after the fight. I'll send word to the others to not kill her."
Mecra smiles. "Yeah, that sounds good... thank you."
"Don't mention it. But mind this, if you can't get her to cooperate after the fight, and she tries anything, she will be killed on sight."
"Don't worry, I should be able to talk to her."
Mecra aims the rifle back down to the bandits, "You go send the word. I'll take care of as many bandits as I can. When you get back, you can tranquilize her and we'll bring her in. Okay?"
"Now that sounds like a plan."
Mecra looks over at Mark, who was also surveying the bandits in the distance. He takes a shot, nearly missing the woman Mecra was thinking about. "Mark," Mecra says sternly. "Hold your fire."
"Wah?" Mark looked over his shoulder. Mecra was aiming the rifle inches from Mark's head.
"I said hold your fire, or I won't hold mine."
"So, you're one of them," Mark said sullenly.
"No, but I'm not one of you. At least, not yet. Now, get the rest of the guards to hold their fire as well."
"Are you mad? What, will we just sit here doing nothing?"
"Just do what I tell you to, or I'll blow your head off."
"Give me a reason why you're doing this first."
"Fine, you see that woman in that group? With the purple bandana? She's a friend. I have no idea why she's with those bandits, but I'd rather blow this whole town up than let her die while I have something to say."
"So, what's your plan?" Mark questions.
"... I don't know. At least not yet," Mecra worriedly explains.
"How about this. I have two types of ammo. Normal killing ammo, and tranquilizer ammo. We'll make her go unconscious and bring her in after the fight. I'll send word to the others to not kill her."
Mecra smiles. "Yeah, that sounds good... thank you."
"Don't mention it. But mind this, if you can't get her to cooperate after the fight, and she tries anything, she will be killed on sight."
"Don't worry, I should be able to talk to her."
Mecra aims the rifle back down to the bandits, "You go send the word. I'll take care of as many bandits as I can. When you get back, you can tranquilize her and we'll bring her in. Okay?"
"Now that sounds like a plan."